The Marquis of G. took down Mme. de St. Cyr; Stahl preceded me, with Delphine. As we sat at table, G. was at the right, I at the left of our hostess. Next G. sat Delphine; below her, the Baron; so that we were nearly _vis-a-vis_. I was now as fully convinced that Mme. de St. Cyr's cellar was the one, as the day before I had been that the other was; I longed to reach it. Hay had given the stone to a butler--doubtless this--the moment of its theft; but, not being aware of Mme. de St. Cyr's previous share in the adventure, had probably not afforded her another. And thus I concluded her to be ignorant of the game we were about to play; and I imagined, with the interest that one carries into a romance, the little preliminary scene between the Baron and Madame that must have already taken place, being charmed by the cheerfulness with which she endured the loss of the promised reward. As the Baron entered the dining-room. I saw him withdraw his glove, and move the jewelled hand across his hair while passing the solemn butler, who gave it a quick recognition;--the next moment we were seated. It was a dinner _à la Russe_; that is, only wines were on the table, clustered around a central ornament,--a bunch of tall silver rushes and flag-leaves, on whose airy tip danced _fleurs-de-lis_ of frosted silver, a design of Delphine's,--the dishes being on side-tables, from which the guests were served as they signified their choice of the variety on their cards. Our number not being large, and the custom so informal, rendered it pleasant. I had just finished my oysters and was pouring out a glass of Chablis, when another plate was set before the Baron. "His Excellency has no salt," murmured the butler,--at the same time placing one beside him. A glance, at entrance, had taught me that most of the service was uniform; this dainty little _salière_ I had noticed on the buffet, solitary, and unlike the others. What a fool had I been! Those gaps in the Baron's remarks caused by the paving-stones, how easily were they to be supplied! "Madame?" Madame de St. Cyr. "The cellar?" A salt-cellar. How quick the flash that enlightened me while I surveyed the _salière!_ "It is exquisite! Am I never to sit at your table but some new device charms me?" I exclaimed. "Is it your design, Mademoiselle?" I said, turning to Delphine. Delphine, who had been ice to all the Baron's advances, only curled her lip. "_Des babioles!_" she said.