She replaced the revolver in her pocket. "It is my answer to your question, monsieur," she said. "That is the way I and my friends often talk to people who annoy us; and now I shall wish you good-day. You will find other sights in Montmartre to interest you." Brett laughed easily, and bowed low. "Believe me," he said, "I will find few performers so expert and, may I add, so discreet. We will meet again, and perhaps test your skill." Without another word the party returned to the front room of the restaurant, and Brett and Fairholme passed into the street where their cab was waiting. "I suppose she meant," said Fairholme "that if we were not jolly careful she would put a bullet through our hearts as easily as through those glass bulbs." "Such was her intention," said Brett, dryly. "But women never have true dramatic genius. That was a piece of melodrama which might suffice with many of her class. It amused me, but it was a waste of time on her part." "Anyhow, we shall not get much out of her in the way of information." "Oh, yes, we will. She will tell us everything. She has told me a great deal already." "What?" cried his lordship. "Did that shooting affair convey anything more to you than what I have said?" "Of course. What need was there for such a trick? In the first place it is very simple. You or I could do it after ten minutes' practice with an expanding charge and a show pistol. Secondly, she admitted that the Cabaret Noir is a centre of operations for the gang in whom we are interested. By the way, I should like to know her name." He directed the driver to wait for them at a street corner some little distance further on. Close to where they stood an itinerant vendor was selling some mechanical toys. Brett bought one. The price was twenty sous. He gave the man a two-franc piece and refused the change. "Do you know," he said, "who is the proprietor of the Cabaret Noir?" "Certainly, monsieur," replied the gutter-merchant; "it is Gros Jean. His name is Beaucaire." "Ah! And the lady who lives there, a dark pretty woman with white skin, who is she?" "That is his daughter," said the man. "She is known as La Belle Chasseuse." "Why such a name?" "Because she is clever with firearms. She used to be in a circus, but she left the profession a year ago." "And does she live here constantly?" "I cannot say. I think she goes away a great deal. She was travelling recently; she came back--let me see--last Tuesday night." "Thank you," said Brett. The two re-entered their cab, and Brett told the driver to proceed as rapidly as possible to the Rue St. Honoré. "I hope to goodness," he said to Fairholme, "that Captain Gaultier has not left Paris already; these Foreign Office messengers are liable to be despatched to the other end of the earth at a moment's notice." "Why do you wish to see him?" said Fairholme.