Mademoiselle da Toscana's chauffeur scratched his chin in perplexity. In
frightening off his tempter he recognized that now he would never be able
to find out who he was. He should have played with him until mademoiselle
came out. She would have known instantly. That would have been the time
for the police. To hide in the car! What the devil! Only a madman would
have offered such a proposition. The man had been either an American or an
Englishman, for all his accuracy in the tongue. Bah! Perhaps he had heard
her sing that night, and had come away from the Opera, moonstruck. It was
not an isolated case. The fools were always pestering him, but no one had
ever offered so uncommon a bribe: five hundred francs. Mademoiselle might
not believe that part of the tale. Mademoiselle was clever. There was a
standing agreement between them that she would always give him half of
whatever was offered him in the way of bribes. It paid. It was easier to
sell his loyalty to her for two hundred and fifty francs than to betray
her for five hundred. She had yet to find him untruthful, and to-night he
would be as frank as he had always been.
But who was this fellow in the Bavarian hat, who patrolled the sidewalk?
He had been watching him when the madman approached. For an hour or more
he had walked up and down, never going twenty feet beyond the limousine.
He couldn't see the face. The long dark coat had a military cut about the
hips and shoulders. From time to time he saw him glance up at the lighted
windows. Eh, well; there were other women in the world besides
mademoiselle, several others.
He had to wait only half an hour for her appearance. He opened the door
and saw to it that she was comfortably seated; then he paused by the
window, touching his cap.
"What is it, François?"
"A gentleman offered me five hundred francs, Mademoiselle, if I would
permit him to hide in the car."
"Five hundred francs? To hide in the car? Why didn't you call the
police?"
"I started to, Mademoiselle, but he ran away."
"Oh! What was he like?" The prima donna dropped the bunch of roses on the
seat beside her.
"Oh, he looked well enough. He had the air of a gentleman. He was tall,
with light hair and mustache. But as I had never seen him before, and as
Mademoiselle wore some fine jewels, I bade him be off."
"Would you know him again?"
"Surely, Mademoiselle."
"The next time any one bothers you, call the police. You have done well,
and I shall remember it. Home."
The man in the Bavarian hat hurried back to the third car from the
limousine, and followed at a reasonably safe distance.