" echoed Regnier. And both men burst out laughing.

"Look here, Ewart," he said, "you'd better get on that demon automobile
of yours and run back to your own London. You're far too innocent to be
here, on the Cote d'Azur, in Carnival time."

"And yet I fancy I know the Riviera and its ways as well as most men," I
remarked.

"Well, however much you know, you're evidently deceived in Pierrette."

"She'd deceive the very devil himself," remarked the man whom my friend
had addressed as Raoul. "Did she mention me after I had passed?"

"No. But she seemed somewhat upset at the encounter."

"No doubt," he laughed. "No doubt. Perhaps she'll express a sudden
desire to return to Paris to-morrow! I shouldn't wonder."

"But tell me, Regnier," I urged, "why should I drop her?"

"I suppose Bindo has placed her in your hands, eh? He's left the
Riviera, and left you to look after her!"

"Well, and what of that? Do you object? We're not interfering with any
of your plans, are we?"

The pair exchanged glances. In the countenances of both was a curious
look, one which aroused my suspicion.

"Oh, my dear fellow, not at all!" laughed Regnier. "I'm only telling you
for your own good."

"Then you imply that she might betray us to the police, eh?"

"No, not that at all."

"Well, what?"

The pair looked at each other a second time, and then Regnier said--

"Unfortunately, Ewart, you don't know Pierrette--or her friend."

"Friend! Is it a male friend?"

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. He's a mystery."

"Well," I declared, "I don't fear this Mister Mystery. Why should I?"

"Then I tell you this--if you continue to dance attendance on her as
you are doing you'll one night get a knife in your back. And you
wouldn't be the first fellow who's received a stab in the dark through
acquaintanceship with the pretty Pierrette, I can tell you that!"

"Then this mysterious person is jealous!" I laughed. "Well, let him be.
I find Pierrette amusing, and she adores motoring. Your advice, _mon
cher_ Regnier, is well meant, but I don't see any reason to discard my
little charge."

"Then you won't take my advice?" he asked in an irritated tone.

"Certainly not. I thank you for it, but I repeat that I'm quite well
able to look after myself in case of a 'scrap'--and further, that I
don't fear the jealous lover in the least degree."

"Then, if you don't heed," he said, "you must take the consequences."

And the pair, turning on