Outside, big Mistitch had crossed the canal and come to the corner where the Street of the Fountain opens on to St. Michael's Square. "What say you to a call at the Hotel de Paris, lads?" he said.

"Hist!" Sterkoff whispered. "Do you hear that step—coming up the street there?"

The illuminations burned still in the Square and sent a path of light down the narrow street. The three stopped and turned their heads. Sterkoff pointed. Mistitch—looked and smacked his ponderous thigh.