The Lighted Match

"She is extremely beautiful in her lines," Louis was declaring. "I am

fond of yachts that are properly built. I am planning one myself, and

each new vessel holds for me a fresh interest."

"Ah, indeed!" The Spaniard was delighted. "Then we have fallen upon a

common enthusiasm. I am never so happy as when talking to a keen

yachtsman." Yet so long as the conversation threatened those nautical

technicalities in which he was utterly deficient, he managed to let the

other do the talking.

Manuel at last set down his cup and, looking up with a flash, as of

sudden inspiration, suggested: "But doubtless you will be stopping in

Monte Carlo a day or two? Possibly you will do me the honor of

inspecting the boat?"

The other protested that his friend was too good. He regarded himself

highly honored. He would be most charmed. But apparently the idea was

developing and Blanco was conceiving even more extended notions of

hospitality.

"Stay!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Why not breakfast with me, on board,

to-morrow at twelve? The launch will be at the landing at eleven

forty-five. I could take you cruising for a few knots, and let you test

her sailing qualities, returning in abundant time for dinner and the

amusements of the evening."

Louis gave the matter a moment's reflection, then declared that the

programme was delightful. He would not be engaged until the evening.

Blanco laughed uproariously. "It is most amusing," he declared. "I have

had supper with you--you are to breakfast with me, and I have not yet

told you my name!" He was searching for a card-case, which seemingly he

had misplaced. "I cannot find a card. No matter, my name is Sir Manuel

Blanco."

The Duke smiled as he rose from the table and took up hat and cane. "I

was equally forgetful," he said. "My name is Monsieur Breuillard."

The following day had advanced well into the afternoon, and Monsieur

Breuillard had punctuated with graceful compliment each point of

excellence in the equipment of the Isis, when Blanco led the way into

the small smoking saloon.

"Sailing qualities may not have been fairly tested," admitted Sir

Manuel, "since the sea was serene, the sky brilliant, and the breeze

insufficient to ruffle the water."

"The more charming, Monsieur!" exclaimed the guest, whose mood after a

pleasing day was mellow and complacent.

Blanco waved Monsieur Breuillard to an easy chair and pointed out

cigars. As chance would have it, he stood before the door, which he had

just closed.