.

SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS.
The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; the monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an exceedingly warm place.
The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
"Maurice--Maurice Carewe ?" said the bewildered Englishman.
"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me," Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly.
"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly.
"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him down into a chair.

"Confound you, could you not have made yourself known to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice ?" "Are you ashamed of it ?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from Fitzgerald's grip.
"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice.

"And your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad.

I am here incognito." "Who the deuce are you ?" "I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man.