"I am sure of it," he answered.

It was not for me to dispute what he said. I merely shrugged my shoulders. Yet, as a matter of fact, I was expecting every moment to find the hand of a gendarme upon my shoulder. I expected it as the carriage stopped before the restaurant and we crossed the pavement. I expected it even when two men who were sitting in the anteroom of the restaurant rose up to meet us. Louis, standing between, performed an introduction.

"Monsieur Decresson and Monsieur Grisson," he said, stretching out his hand, "permit me to make you acquainted with Monsieur le Capitaine Rotherby, a retired officer in the English army, and brother of the Earl of Welmington."

The two men bowed politely and held out their hands. They were both typical well-dressed, good-looking Frenchmen, apparently of the upper cla.s.s. Monsieur Decresson had a narrow black beard, a military moustache, a high forehead, pale complexion, and thoughtful eyes.

Monsieur Grisson was shorter, with lighter-colored hair, something of a fop in his attire, and certainly more genial in his manner.

"It is a pleasure," they both declared, "to have the honor of meeting Monsieur le Capitaine."

The usual inanities followed. Then Monsieur Decresson pointed with his hand into the restaurant.

"If monsieur will do us the honor to join us," he said, "we will take luncheon. Afterwards," he continued, "we can talk over our coffee and liqueurs. It would be well for us to become better acquainted."

I saw no reason to object. I was, in fact, exceedingly hungry. We lunched at a corner table in the famous restaurant, and I am bound to admit that we lunched exceedingly well. During the progress of the meal our conversation was absolutely general. All the events of the previous night were carefully ignored. When at last, however, we sat over our coffee and liqueurs, Monsieur Decresson, after a moment's pause, turned his melancholy gray eyes on me.

"Capitaine Rotherby," he said, "my friend and I represent a little group of people who have some interest in the place where we met last night. We are deputed to ask you to explain, if you can, your conduct,--your attack, which it seemed to us was absolutely unprovoked, upon an habitue of the place and an a.s.sociate of our own."

"There is only one explanation which I can make," I answered slowly.

"I went there, as Louis will tell you, absolutely a stranger, and absolutely by chance. Chance decreed that I should meet face to face the one man in the world against whom I bear a grudge, the one man whom I had sworn to punish whenever and wherever I might meet him."

Monsieur Decresson bowed.

"There are situations," he admitted, "which can only be dealt with in that manner. Do not think me personal or inquisitive, I beg of you, but--I ask in your own interests--what had you against this man Tapilow?"

"Monsieur Decresson," I said, "I will answer you frankly. The man whom I punished last night, I punished because I have proved him to be guilty of conduct unbecoming to a gentleman. I punished him because he broke the one social law which in my country, at any rate, may not be transgressed with impunity."

"What you are saying now," Monsieur Grisson interrupted, "amounts to an accusation. Tapilow is known to us. These things must be spoken of seriously. You speak upon your honor as an English soldier and a gentleman?"

"Messieurs," I answered, turning to both of them, "it is agreed. I speak to you as I would speak to the judge before whom I should stand if I had murdered this man, and I tell you both, upon my honor, that the treatment which he received from me he merited. He borrowed my money and my brother's money. He accepted the hospitality of my brother's house, the friendship of his friends. In return, he robbed him of the woman whom he loved."

"The quarrel," Monsieur Decresson said softly, "seems, then, to have been another's."

"Messieurs," I answered, "my brother is an invalid for life. The quarrel, therefore, was mine."

Decresson and his companion exchanged glances. I leaned back in my chair. The three of them talked together earnestly for several minutes in an undertone. Then Louis, with a little sigh of relief, rose to his feet and came over to my side.

"It is finished," he declared. "Monsieur Decresson and Monsieur Grisson are of one mind in this matter. The man Tapilow's punishment was deserved."

I looked from one to the other of them in wonder.

"But I do not understand!" I exclaimed. "You mean to say, then, that even if Tapilow himself should wish it--"

Monsieur Decresson smiled grimly.

"What happens in the Cafe des Deux Epingles," he said, "happens outside the world. Without special permission it would not be possible for Monsieur Tapilow to speak to the police of this a.s.sault. Buy your _Figaro_ every evening," he continued, "and soon you will read. In the meantime, I recommend you, monsieur, not to stay too long in Paris."

They took leave of me with some solemnity on the pavement outside the restaurant, but Monsieur Decresson, before stepping into his automobile, drew me a little on one side.

"Capitaine Rotherby," he said, "you have been dealt with to-day as a very privileged person. You were brought to the Cafe des Deux Epingles a stranger, almost a guest, and your behavior there might very well have been resented by us."

"If I have not said much," I answered, "please do not believe me any the less grateful."

"Let that go," Monsieur Decresson said coldly. "Only I would remind you of this. You are a young man, but your experience has doubtless told you that in this world one does not often go out of one's way to serve a stranger for no purpose at all. There is a chance that the time may come when we shall ask you, perhaps through Louis here, perhaps through some other person, to repay in some measure your debt. If that time should come, I trust that you will not prove ungrateful."

"I think," I answered confidently, "that there is no fear of that."

Monsieur Decresson touched Louis on the shoulder and motioned him to enter the automobile which was waiting. With many bows and solemn salutes the great car swung off and left me there alone. I watched it until it disappeared, and then, turning in the opposite direction, started to walk toward the Ritz. Curiously enough it never occurred to me to doubt for a moment the a.s.surance which had been given me. I had no longer the slightest fear of arrest.

On the way I pa.s.sed the Cafe de Paris. Then I suddenly remembered that strange little note from the girl with the turquoises. I never stopped to consider whether or not I was doing a wise thing. I opened the swing doors and pa.s.sed into the restaurant. It was almost empty, except for a few people who had sat late over their luncheon. I called Leon to me.

"Leon," I said, "you remember me? I am Captain Rotherby."

He held up his hand.

"It is enough, monsieur," he declared. "If monsieur would be so good."

He drew me a little on one side.

"Mademoiselle still waits," he said in an undertone. "If monsieur will ascend."

"Upstairs?" I asked.

Leon bowed and smiled.

"Mademoiselle is in one of the smaller rooms," he said. "Will monsieur follow me?"

"Why, certainly," I answered.

CHAPTER VII

A DOUBLE a.s.sIGNATION

I followed Leon upstairs to the region of smaller apartments. At the door of one of these he knocked, and a feminine voice at once bade us enter.

Mademoiselle was sitting upon a lounge, smoking a cigarette. On the table before her stood an empty coffee-cup and an empty liqueur-gla.s.s. She looked at me with a little grimace.

"At last!" she exclaimed.

"It is the gentleman whom mademoiselle was expecting?" Leon asked discreetly.

"Certainly," she answered. "You may go, Leon."

We were alone. She gave me her fingers, which I raised to my lips.