A low cry suddenly broke the silence--a quick exclamation of alarm. It was a language Paul remembered well, for his Queen had often talked to him caressingly in her own strange tongue. He started and turned his head, to see a tongue of flame leaping shoulder-high behind him. The match had fallen on some inflammable drapery and set the place afire. He seized a rug and tried to smother the blaze, but the little house was a tinder box. The lady had not moved meanwhile. But as the sound of running feet and a loud call of "_Au feu! Au feu!_" shattered the quiet, she sprang like a frightened fawn out into the darkness. An instant later, blinded by the glare of the conflagration, Paul followed. He was too late. The darkness had swallowed her completely, and with the blaze still dazzling his eyes Paul could scarcely see even the hurrying forms that came racing up the path. In a few moments the tea-house was a ruin. Paul hurried to the hotel, where several startled guests had gathered in somewhat scanty attire, alarmed by the cry of fire ringing out into the still night. But the lady of the midnight kiss was not there. CHAPTER VI Too stirred within his heart to sleep, Paul paced the lawn, in the vain hope of seeing her again. He was walking lightly over the wet grass with almost silent feet, so occupied with his thoughts that he came near to walking into a couple talking beneath a tree. When, however, he beheld them, he came to a sudden standstill, all his senses alive, his quick intuition telling him he was in the presence of some matter of moment. A little portly man with an evident air of authority was talking to a woman in a flowing cloak. Emphasizing his remarks with true Gallic gestures, but with all his excitement making an evident effort to be guarded in his tone, he was all oblivious to Paul's presence. The girl Paul could not see plainly, but it was with some unaccountable notion of doing her a service, and not with the remotest idea of eavesdropping, that he stepped softly and silently to the further side of a tree trunk. Then he heard the girl's voice saying in low, quiet, earnest accents: "Why will you not let me rest? Why do you pursue me in this way? Surely it is inhuman to adopt these methods. Is it fair to follow me to a place like this and insult me in this way?" The man mumbled something which Paul could not catch. Then he heard the girl utter a little cry. "Look!" she exclaimed eagerly. "Look! I will make you an offer. Free me from this horrible nightmare, give me your word that you will not persecute me further, and I will give you these." Paul heard the rustle of draperies, and was conscious that the girl reached out her hands. The man greedily took something from her. His head was bent over the object, whatever it might be, long and earnestly.