He spoke most suavely, as though he was, what he wished her to think him--a chivalrous and gallant protector, and, sooth to say, Alison was glad to hear an English voice, and to see some one who appeared like an English gentleman, and, externally, Sir Jasper certainly was one. 'This way, please; let me draw you out of the crowd,' said he, guiding her towards one of the saloon doors. 'How rude--how rough the people are,' exclaimed Alison, with reference to the crowd that separated her from Lord Cadbury, of whom she could see nothing now, and the hubbub of the _kermesse_ on the stage was stunning. 'Well,' said Sir Jasper, with a lazy smile, 'they are not the _crème de la crème_ of Antwerp, nor _crème_ of any kind; and, truth to tell, I was surprised to see you here.' 'Indeed!' exclaimed Alison, with annoyance at having been lured, as she certainly was, into a false position. At that moment Mr. Hawksleigh, who had been in the corridor, came to say that Lord Cadbury, being unable to find the young lady, had gone to the Café or Restaurant au Progrès. 'Without me!' exclaimed Alison. 'His lordship felt faint, and awaits you there.' 'Did he say so?' 'Yes,' was the reply of the unblushing Mr. Tom Hawksleigh. 'Most strange!' 'Shall we not follow him?' urged Sir Jasper, with his blandest tone. 'I ought to go home to the Hôtel St. Antoine,' said Alison, with doubt now added to her dismay. 'You can't do that alone. The Restaurant au Progrès is close by--almost a part of the theatre--and if Lord Cadbury is unwell----' 'Then let us go instantly, please.' He led her at once from the hall and down the staircase, up which fresh groups--men in evening dress and ladies in masks and dominoes--were crowding, all laughing and joyous, and thence into the Rue des Escrimeurs, where they crossed the street, and entered a brilliantly lighted café; but avoiding the great pillared dining or supper hall, which was fitted up with marble tables, crowded with guests (many of them masked dominoes), he led her upstairs to a private supper-room, preceded by a waiter, to whom he gave some instructions rapidly in French. Where was Lord Cadbury, he inquired. The waiter did not know. Among the many now in the cafè, milord might be one; but he would inquire. Meantime, what did monsieur wish for supper. In the fair cheek of Alison the delicate colour came and went, and in her eyes there was a strange look of inquiry as she glanced from one man to the other, ignorant that in an instant there was a secret understanding between them, and that the Belgian _valet de cabaret_ took in the whole situation at once. 'Supper--ah--_à la carte_--salmi of guinea fowl, Ris d'Agneau, sauce champignon, and some Moselle. Meantime, ask for his lordship.' The waiter grinned in what Alison thought a disagreeable manner, and disappeared with his towel over his arm.