"Why," murmured the thin man on that occasion, "why are there no Saracens to-day?" "There are plenty, Mr. Welbourne," cried the shrill voice unexpectedly. "I saw some Moors in the town yesterday. They're all the same, you know." "But they don't----" the thin man paused, allowing a daring word to die on his lips. "That is--the great days of old--the days of daring and romance--are over. We live in a degenerate age." He spoke so mournfully that Miss Boundrish was much moved, and joined him in lamentation over the past, while every heart present echoed his unspoken thought, that a Saracen raid upon the Riviera might involve the abduction of Miss Boundrish, the mere idea of which filled them with joy. They were sure that she would have pleased the Saracenic taste, and doubted if her prayers would work a miracle. "Where on earth did you pick up that Somers girl, Mrs. Allonby?" the sweet girl asked one day with pleasing directness and candour. It was during a descent upon the town to see the Carnival, arranged between the thin man, Ermengarde, and Agatha. Miss Boundrish, overhearing this arrangement the night before--she always overheard everything--had offered to make a fourth in the party, so suddenly, so loudly, and with such a certainty of conferring a favour, and also so immediately in the hearing of her mother, that neither of the three was ready with a civil excuse for declining the honour, though each said sadly to the others afterwards, "Why are there no Saracens now?" "That Somers girl," Ermengarde repeated slowly and thoughtfully, as if wondering to whom she referred. "_I_ don't think much of her," continued Dorris. "You know you can't be too particular who you get to know in places like this. Very queer people in these cheap Continental pensions." "How true!" Ermengarde murmured thoughtfully. "I've never seen a Carnival, have you?" "You ought to see the Nice Carnival; this is a very one-horse thing. Did you know Miss Somers in England?" "Did you?" "Not exactly, but I knew of her. That is, I knew the man she was supposed to be engaged to. I--I knew him rather well, in fact." Miss Boundrish's smile suggested worlds. "Were you engaged to him, as well?" "Well--not exactly engaged. Poor Ivor!" with the usual gurgle. "Such an escape for him."--So Ermengarde thought.--"They say his people knew nothing about it. So you picked her up abroad?" "She--if you mean Miss Somers--picked me up once, on the floor of a corridor carriage. Not pleasant to tumble down in a faint on the floor of a train. One is thankful to be picked up and taken care of----" "By anybody, of course," with the gurgle so familiar at Les Oliviers. "Well, you'd better be on your guard, that's all. Did you lose any money, anything of value on the way?" "Miss Boundrish, what are you talking about?" was the sharp rejoinder.