'Meddlechip,' echoed Vandeloup, as if to himself; 'my faith!'

'Yes,' broke in Bellthorp, quickly; 'the one we were speaking of at the club--do you know him?'

'I fancy I do,' said Vandeloup, with a strange smile. 'You must excuse me to your supper to-night.'

'No, we won't,' said Barty, firmly; 'you must come.'

'Then I'll look in later,' said Vandeloup, who had not the slightest intention of going. 'Will that do?'

'I suppose it will have to,' said Bellthorp, in an injured tone; 'but why can't you come now?'

'I've got to see about some business,' said Vandeloup.

'What, at this hour of the night?' cried Jarper, in a voice of disgust.

Vandeloup nodded, and lit a cigarette.

'Well, mind you come in later,' said Barty, and then he and his friends left the bar, after making Vandeloup promise faithfully he would come.

Gaston sauntered slowly up to the coffee bar, and asked for a cup in his usual musical voice, but when the stout gentleman heard him speak he turned pale and looked up. The thin one had gone off to talk to someone else, so when Vandeloup got his coffee he turned slowly round and looked straight at Meddlechip seated in the chair.

'Good evening, M. Kestrike,' he said, quietly.

Meddlechip, whose face was usually red and florid-looking, turned ghastly pale, and sprang to his feet.

'Octave Braulard!' he gasped, placing his coffee cup on the counter.

'At your service,' said Vandeloup, looking rapidly round to see that no one overheard the name, 'but here I am Gaston Vandeloup.'

Meddlechip pa.s.sed his handkerchief over his face and moistened his dry lips with his tongue.

'How did you get here?' he asked, in a strangled voice.

'It's a long story,' said M. Vandeloup, putting his coffee cup down and wiping his lips with his handkerchief; 'suppose we go and have supper somewhere, and I'll tell you all about it.'

'I don't want any supper,' said Meddlechip, sullenly, his face having regained its normal colour. 'Possibly not, but I do,' replied Vandeloup, sweetly, taking his arm; 'come, let us go.'

Meddlechip did not resist, but walked pa.s.sively out of the bar with Vandeloup, much to the astonishment of the thin gentleman, who called out to him but without getting any answer.

Meddlechip went to the cloak room and put on his coat and hat. Then he followed Vandeloup down the stairs and paused at the door while the Frenchman hailed a hansom. When it drove up, however, he stopped short at the edge of the pavement.

'I won't go,' he said, determinedly.

Vandeloup looked at him with a peculiar gleam in his dark eyes, and bowed.

'Let me persuade you, Monsieur,' he said, blandly, holding the door of the cab open.

Meddlechip glanced at him, and then, with a sigh of resignation, entered the cab, followed by Vandeloup.

'Where to, sir?' asked the cabman, through the trap.

'To Leslie's Supper Rooms,' replied the Frenchman, and the cab drove off.

CHAPTER IV

THE CASE OF ADELE BLONDET

Leslie's Supper Rooms in Bourke Street East were very well known--that is, among a certain cla.s.s. Religious people and steady businessmen knew nothing about such a place except by reputation, and looked upon it, with horror, as a haunt of vice and dissipation.

Though Leslie's, in common with other places had to close at a certain hour, yet when the shutters were up, the door closed, and the lights extinguished in the front of the house, there was plenty of life and bustle going on at the back, where there were charmingly furnished little rooms for supper parties. Barty Jarper had engaged one of these apartments, and with about a dozen young men was having a good time of it when Vandeloup and Meddlechip drove up. After dismissing the cab and looking up and down the street to see that no policeman was in sight, Vandeloup knocked at the door in a peculiar manner, and it was immediately opened in a stealthy kind of way. Gaston gave his name, whereupon they were allowed to enter, and the door was closed after them in the same quiet manner, all of which was very distasteful to Mr Meddlechip, who, being a public man and a prominent citizen, felt that he was breaking the laws he had a.s.sisted to make. He looked round in some disgust at the crowds of waiters, and at the glimpses he caught every now and then of gentlemen in evening dress, and what annoyed him more than anything else--ladies in bright array. Oh! a dissipated place was Leslie's, and even in the daytime had a rakish-looking appearance as if it had been up all night and knew a thing or two. Mr Meddlechip would have retreated from this den of iniquity if he could, but as he wanted to have a thorough explanation with Vandeloup, he meekly followed the Frenchman through a well-lighted pa.s.sage, with statues on either side holding lamps, to a little room beautifully furnished, wherein a supper table was laid out. Here the waiter who conducted them took their hats and Meddlechip's coat and hung them up, then waited respectfully for M. Vandeloup to give his orders. A portly looking waiter he was, with a white waistcoat, a white shirt, which bulged out in a most obtrusive manner, and a large white cravat, which was tied round an equally large white collar. When he walked he rolled along like a white-crested wave, and with his napkin under his arm, the heel of one foot in the hollow of the other, and his large red face, surmounted by a few straggling tufts of black hair, he was truly wonderful to behold.

This magnificent creature, who answered to the name of Gurchy, received Vandeloup's orders with a majestic bend of his head, then rolling up to Mr Meddlechip, he presented the bill of fare to that gentleman, who, however, refused it.

'I don't want any supper,' he said, curtly.

Gurchy, though a waiter, was human, and looked astonished, while Vandeloup remonstrated in a suave manner.

'But, my dear sir,' he said, leaning back in his chair, 'you must have something to eat. I a.s.sure you,' with a significant smile, 'you will need it.'

Meddlechip's lips twitched a little as the Frenchman spoke, then, with an uneasy laugh, he ordered something, and drew his chair up to the table.

'And, waiter,' said Vandeloup, softly, as Gurchy was rolling out of the door, 'bring some wine, will you? Pommery, I think, is best,' he added, turning to Meddlechip.

'What you like,' returned that gentleman, impatiently, 'I don't care.'

'That's a great mistake,' replied Gaston, coolly; 'bad wine plays the deuce with one's digestion--two bottles of Pommery, waiter.'

Gurchy nodded, that is to say his head disappeared for a moment in the foam of his collar, then re-appeared again as he slowly rolled out of the door and vanished.

'Now, then, sir,' said Meddlechip, sharply, rising from his seat and closing the door, 'what did you bring me here for?'

M. Vandeloup raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'How energetic you are, my dear Kestrike,' he said, smoothly, lying down on the sofa, and contemplating his shoes with great satisfaction; 'just the same noisy, jolly fellow as of yore.'

'd.a.m.n you!' said the other, fiercely, at which Gaston laughed.

'You had better leave that to G.o.d,' he answered, mockingly; 'he understands more about it than you do.'

'Oh, I know you of old,' said Meddlechip, walking up and down excitedly; 'I know you of old, with your sneers and your coolness, but it won't do here,' stopping opposite the sofa, and glaring down at Vandeloup; 'it won't do here!'

'So you've said twice,' replied M. Vandeloup, with a yawn. 'How do you want me to conduct myself? Do tell me; I am always open to improvement.'

'You must leave Australia,' said Meddlechip, sharply, and breathing hard.