Hillard released the imprisoned arm, consciously chilled by the tone. There was a patent raillery, a quizzical insolence, which convinced Hillard that the Italian had not given chase out of an idle purpose. While this idea was forming in his mind, the Italian inspected his cuff, brushed his sleeve, and then recalled that he was bareheaded. He laughed shortly. "We shall meet again," he said softly. "I hope not," replied Hillard frankly, at the same time placing himself so as to block any sudden attempt to take up the chase. "However, you may find me at the Hotel de Londres." The Italian laughed again. "You understand the language well," debatingly. "And the people, too." Hillard had no desire to pass the time of day with his opponent. "Well, I have said that we shall meet again, and it must be so." "And your hat, as well as mine, is still in the Casino. The night is cold." The Italian tugged impatiently at his mustache and permitted his glance to wander over Hillard critically. No, a struggle, much as he longed for it, would not be wise. He swung round on his heel and walked rapidly down the street, much to Hillard's relief. Presently the Italian took the corner, and Hillard turned to reassure Kitty. But Kitty had vanished! CHAPTER XV MANY NAPOLEONS Having yawned luxuriously, Merrihew sighed with perfect content. The pretty woman sitting opposite smiled at him tenderly, and he smiled back, abstractedly, as a man sometimes will when his mind tries to gather in comprehensively a thought and a picture which are totally different. Before him, in neat little lustrous stacks, stood seven thousand francs in gold, three hundred and fifty effigies of Napoleon the Little. And this was the thought which divided the smile with the picture. Seven thousand francs, fourteen hundred dollars, more than half the sum of his letter of credit! And all this prodigious fortune for a little gold put here, and a little gold put there, wisely, scientifically; for he would have strenuously denied that it was due to bald, blind luck. If only the boys at the club could see him now! He wet his lips suggestively, but the lust for gold was stronger than the call of tobacco. Tobacco could wait; fortune might not. Still, he took out a cigar, bit off the end, and put it back in his pocket. And where the deuce had Hillard gone? Twenty minutes to eleven, and no sign of him since the play began.