"Yes, you are to take it now, at once. Just leave it at the Villa du Lac.
You will come for us--you will come, that is, for _me_"--Monsieur Wachner
raised his voice--"to-morrow morning at half-past six. I desire to catch
the 7.10 train to Paris."

There was a jingle of silver, and then Sylvia caught the man's answering,
"_Merci, c'est entendu, M'sieur._"

But L'Ami Fritz did not come back at once to the dining-room. He went out
into the garden and accompanied the man down to the gate.

When he came back again he put a large key on the dining-table.

"There!" he said, with a grunt of satisfaction. "Now there will be
nothing to disturb us any more."

They all three sat down at the round dining-table. To Sylvia's surprise
a very simple meal was set out before them. There was only one small dish
of galantine. When Sylvia Bailey had been to supper with the Wachners
before, there had always been two or three tempting cold dishes, and
some dainty friandises as well, the whole evidently procured from the
excellent confectioner who drives such a roaring trade at Lacville.
To-night, in addition to the few slices of galantine, there was only
a little fruit.

Then a very odd thing happened.

L'Ami Fritz helped first his wife and himself largely, then Sylvia more
frugally. It was perhaps a slight matter, the more so that Monsieur