"I did not know we were to be traveling companions," he said, with a
smile.

"Nor did we," added Blake. "You are going back to France, then?"

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders in characteristic fashion.

"Who knows?" he asked. "I am in the service of my beloved country. I go
where I am sent. I am under orders, Messieurs, and until I report in
Paris I know not what duty I am to perform. But I am charmed to see you
again, and rest assured I shall not repeat my lamentable blunder."

"No, I'll take good care you don't run into me," muttered Macaroni.

"And you, my friends of the movies--you camera men, as you call
yourselves--you are going to France also?"

"We don't know where we are going, any more than you do," said Blake.

"Ah, then you are in the duty, too? You are under orders?"

"In a way, yes," said Blake. "We are, if you will excuse me for saying
so, on a sort of mission----"

"Ah, I understand, monsieur! A thousand pardons. It is a secret mission,
is it not? Tut! Tut! I must not ask! You, too, are soldiers in a way. I
must not talk about it. Forget that I have asked you. I am as silent as
the graveyard. What is that delightful slang you have--remember it no
more? Ah, I have blundered! Forget it! Now I have it! I shall forget