"Anything you say, sir," agreed Frank. "I suppose I shouldn't have hit that fellow, but he wouldn't let me by." "Don't worry about that. You did exactly right," declared Lord Hastings. "Come on." He led the way in the direction from which they had come. CHAPTER IV. MARIE DULCÉ. Things seemed to have quieted down when the three found themselves again before the café. Apparently there had been but a faint-hearted pursuit. All breathed easier. "They can't have believed very much in that spy story," remarked Frank. "It would seem that way," agreed Lord Hastings. "Evidently they took your friend's words as the ravings of a man intoxicated." "A good thing, too, sir," said Jack. "None of them will molest us, unless it is the doughty lieutenant himself." "We don't need to worry about him, I guess," said Lord Hastings. "Now we must get busy. I wonder----" as a sudden thought struck him, "if your friend," he turned to Frank, "the young lady, I mean, couldn't give us, or get for us, the information we desire." "I guess she could, sir," replied Frank, "if we could find her." "She probably is still in the café," said Jack. "And so probably is Lieutenant Holzen," replied Frank dryly. "True," said Lord Hastings. "We can't afford to risk another encounter. Guess we'll have to hunt up the place she lives. All we have to do is ask where Mademoiselle--by the way, Frank, what is her name?" "I don't know, sir. She didn't tell me." "What?" exclaimed Lord Hastings in surprise. "You are a nice gallant, you are. So you failed to find out her name, eh?" "Yes, sir. She was just going to tell me when the music stopped." Jack laughed. "Maybe she wasn't so anxious to tell you," he said. "Now look here," said Frank, "don't let's start that again. If it touches you on a sore spot, I'll drop the subject." "Oh, all right," said Jack. "Well, the matter should not be so difficult, anyhow," declared Lord Hastings. "We'll ask someone the name of the young lady who sings." "Perfectly simple, sir," agreed Jack. "Whom shall we ask?" "The first person we see," was the reply. Lord Hastings led the way down the street. An officer approached. Lord Hastings accosted him in German. "I have recently been ordered to Heligoland," he said. "A moment ago I was in yonder café," pointing, "and the young singer in there bears such a striking resemblance to the daughter of a friend of mine that I should like to know if she is the same." "And the name of the young lady to whom you refer?" questioned the German. "Henrietta! Henrietta Blucher!" The German laughed. "Then you are mistaken," he said pleasantly. "The young lady who sings in yonder café is Marie Dulcé and she is a French girl." "I had not taken her to be French," returned Lord Hastings. "Can you tell me where she lives?"