A Maker of History | Page 6

for the second time he omitted all mention of that missing sheet of
paper which had come into his possession. Monsieur le Baron was
obviously much interested.
"You are quite sure--of the two men?" he asked quietly.
"Quite!" Guy answered confidently. "One was----"
Madame--Flossie's friend--dropped a wineglass. Monsieur le Baron
raised his hand.

"No names," he said. "It is better not. We understand. A most
interesting adventure, Monsieur Poynton, and--to your health!"
The wine was good, and the fun of the place itself went almost to the
head. Always there were newcomers who passed down the room amidst
a chorus of greetings, always the gayest of music. Then amidst cheers
Flossie and another friend whom she called from a distant table danced
a cake-walk--danced very gracefully, and with a marvellous display of
rainbow skirts. She came back breathless, and threw herself down by
Guy's side.
"Give me some more wine!" she panted. "How close the place is!"
The younger Frenchman, who had scarcely spoken, leaned over.
"An idea!" he exclaimed. "My automobile is outside. I will drive you
all round the city. Monsieur Poynton shall see Paris undressed.
Afterwards we will go to Louis' rooms and make his man cook us a
déjeuner Anglais."
Flossie stood up and laughed.
"Who'll lend me a coat?" she cried. "I've nothing but a lace mantle."
"Plenty of Frenchmen in the car," the young Frenchman cried. "Are we
all agreed? Good! Garçon, l'addition!"
"And mine," Guy ordered.
The women departed for their wraps. Guy and the two Frenchmen
filled their pockets with cigarettes. When the bills came Guy found that
his own was a trifle, and Monsieur Louis waved aside all protest.
"We are hosts to-night, my young friend," he declared with charming
insistence. "Another time you shall have your turn. You must come
round to the club to-morrow, and we will arrange for some sport.
Allons!"
They crowded out together amidst a chorus of farewells. Guy took

Flossie's arm going down the stairs.
"I say, I'm awfully obliged to you for introducing me to your friends,"
he declared. "I'm having a ripping time!"
She laughed.
"Oh, they're all right," she declared. "Mind my skirts!"
"I say, what does 'prenez garde' mean?" he asked.
"'Take care.' Why?"
He laughed again.
"Nothing!"
CHAPTER III
A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
"Mademoiselle," the young man said, with an air of somewhat weary
politeness, "I regret to say that there is nothing more to be done!"
He was grieved and polite because Mademoiselle was beautiful and in
trouble. For the rest he was a little tired of her. Brothers of twenty-one,
who have never been in Paris before, and cannot speak the language,
must occasionally get lost, and the British Embassy is not exactly a
transported Scotland Yard.
"Then," she declared, with a vigorous little stamp of her shapely foot,
"I don't see what we keep an Ambassador here for at all--or any of you.
It is scandalous!"
The Hon. Nigel Fergusson dropped his eyeglass and surveyed the
young lady attentively.
"My dear Miss Poynton," he said, "I will not presume to argue with you.
We are here, I suppose, for some purpose or other. Whether we fulfil it

or not may well be a matter of opinion. But that purpose is certainly not
to look after any young idiot--you must excuse my speaking
plainly--who runs amuck in this most fascinating city. In your case the
Chief has gone out of his way to help you. He has interviewed the chief
of police himself, brought his influence to bear in various quarters, and
I can tell you conscientiously that everything which possibly can be
done is being done at the present moment. If you wish for my advice it
is this: Send for some friend to keep you company here, and try to be
patient. You are in all probability making yourself needlessly
miserable."
She looked at him a little reproachfully. He noticed, however, with
secret joy that she was drawing on her gloves.
"Patient! He was to meet me here ten days ago. He arrived at the hotel.
His clothes are all there, and his bill unpaid. He went out the night of
his arrival, and has never returned. Patient! Well, I am much obliged to
you, Mr. Fergusson. I have no doubt that you have done all that your
duty required. Good afternoon!"
"Good afternoon, Miss Poynton, and don't be too despondent.
Remember that the French police are the cleverest in the world, and
they are working for you."
She looked up at him scornfully.
"Police, indeed!" she answered. "Do you know that all they have done
so far is to keep sending for me to go and look at dead bodies down at
the Morgue? I think that I shall send over for an English detective."
"You might do worse,"