In a nearby café we had a drink and parted for the night. Next morning of course I had to appear again at the Grand Hotel. On foot I walked away from _Le Lapin Agile_, jumping into a taxi when I was out of sight. The taxi took me to the _Gare du Nord_; there I doubled in my tracks and presently, as if just having left a train, I took another taxi and was driven with my luggage to the hotel. I dropped around that afternoon to the Quai d’Orsay and called upon some of my acquaintances, remarking that I had come back for a little holiday. That night I had the pleasure of dining with Limantour. Thereafter I had to lead a double life. By day, I was an habitue of prominent hotels, restaurants, and clubs. I associated with young diplomats and occasionally took a pretty girl to tea. By night I lived in _Le Lapin Agile_ and consorted with thugs and their ilk. It cost me sleep, but I did not begrudge that in view of the stakes. All this time I was cultivating the acquaintance of Limantour and those around him. Shortly afterward I succeeded in taking one of the members of his household on a rather wild party and when his head was full of champagne he babbled that Limantour and his family were planning to sail for Cuba and Mexico on the following Saturday. I was also informed that on Friday, the day before the sailing, there would be a farewell reception at one of the embassies. Knowing Limantour’s habits of work as I did by this time, I was able to lay my plans with as much certainty as prevails in my profession. After weighing all the possibilities I decided to defer my attempt on him until this last Friday night. I reasoned that he would probably receive a draft of the agreement from his secretary at the club late than night. He would take it home with him and go over it with microscopic care. The next forenoon—Saturday—he would meet the Japanese envoy just long enough to finish the matter and then he would hurry to the steamer. Of course Limantour might have acted in a different way. That was the chance one has to take. Friday night came. In his luxurious limousine, Limantour and his family went to the farewell reception of the embassy. Comparatively early, he said his farewell—leaving Madame to go home later—and in his car he proceeded to the club. I saw him pass through the vestibule after leaving his chauffeur with instructions to wait. My guess as to Limantour’s movements had been right, so the plans I had made worked smoothly. I, too, had an automobile waiting near his club. Two of my men sauntered over to Limantour’s car. Under pretence of sociability they invited his chauffeur to have a drink. They led him into a little café on a side street near by, the proprietor of which was in with the gang. Limantour’s chauffeur had one drink and went to sleep. My men stripped him of his livery, which one of them donned. Presently Limantour had a new chauffeur sitting at the wheel of his limousine.