VIIITHE MAGIC LANTERN

“MYDEAREUGÈNE:“It is the last of July, and you haven’t come to see us yet; can it be that life in Paris has made you entirely forgetful of the relations who love you and think constantly of you and your future?——”

“MYDEAREUGÈNE:

“It is the last of July, and you haven’t come to see us yet; can it be that life in Paris has made you entirely forgetful of the relations who love you and think constantly of you and your future?——”

My future! Oh, yes! that means another marriage on the carpet. What a mania it is of Amélie’s! alwaystrying to induce me to marry! It is worse than the conventional guardian of comedy. But let us go on:

“It seems to me that you must be tired of those numerous conquests, of those gallant adventures, of those women who have no other guide than pleasure, and who forget you as quickly as they adore you.——”

“It seems to me that you must be tired of those numerous conquests, of those gallant adventures, of those women who have no other guide than pleasure, and who forget you as quickly as they adore you.——”

Aha! sarcasm! You are mistaken, my dear sister; I am not tired of making conquests; those that I make are not all so simple as you think, said I to myself. But in the provinces people are even more spiteful, more evil-tongued than in Paris; and since my sister has left the capital, she takes it upon herself to lecture me. But at heart she is kindness itself! I cannot be angry with her for constantly thinking of me. But where was I?

“As quickly as they adore you. I often hear of you from people who come here from Paris; I know that you are more heedless than ever, that you think of nothing but your pleasures, that you deceive all your mistresses, that they pay you back in your own coin.——”

“As quickly as they adore you. I often hear of you from people who come here from Paris; I know that you are more heedless than ever, that you think of nothing but your pleasures, that you deceive all your mistresses, that they pay you back in your own coin.——”

How well she divines the truth! it is astonishing!

“We never hear of any sensible action on your part.——”

“We never hear of any sensible action on your part.——”

Ah! my dear sister, if you had known the story of the night I had just passed! And people slander me, and call me a libertine!—But you were very, very pretty, Nicette! and I was really entitled to great credit for my self-restraint.

“I trust, however, that you are not incorrigible. Come to us very soon. We have pretty women here, too; they are modest and virtuous, and I should suppose that that would give them an additional attraction.——”

“I trust, however, that you are not incorrigible. Come to us very soon. We have pretty women here, too; they are modest and virtuous, and I should suppose that that would give them an additional attraction.——”

Oh, of course! very pretty women! stiff, affected, prudish, or simpering! And such costumes! In a word,genuine provincials—I need say no more. As for their virtue, it is possible that—but it is not safe to trust to appearances, as I know better than most; for I would have sworn that Nicette was a little wanton.

“My husband sends a memorandum of a few errands he would like you to do for him. He is organizing grand fishing parties for your visit, and I look forward with delight to the prospect of embracing you.“AMÉLIEDÉNETERRE.”

“My husband sends a memorandum of a few errands he would like you to do for him. He is organizing grand fishing parties for your visit, and I look forward with delight to the prospect of embracing you.

“AMÉLIEDÉNETERRE.”

I determined to go to Melun—in a few days. There were several business matters that I must first attend to. Moreover, I should be very glad to know what Nicette was going to do; I was deeply interested in that young woman, and I did not propose to lose sight of her.

I left my apartment and was going downstairs; but I could not resist my desire to speak to my neighbor Raymond. I wished to thank him for his discretion. I rang at his door; no one answered, but I heard a noise within. I rang again, and that time the bellrope remained in my hand. He did not open the door. I felt sure that he had bored a hole in his door and had seen that it was I. No matter: he could not always avoid me; meanwhile, that he might know that it was I who had broken his bellrope, I tied it to my own.

I went downstairs at last; and on the first floor I met Madame Bertin and her two daughters, going to mass.

I bowed; they returned my bow, but with a frigid air very different from the amiable greeting they were accustomed to bestow on me. The two young ladies stood aside without raising their eyes, and the mother’s face wore a glacial expression that made me afraid to speak to her.

“This is the result of the infernal chatter of Raymond and Madame Martin and the concierge,” I thought; “these ladies know that Nicette passed the night in my rooms; that is to say, the mamma knows it, and that is why she ordered her daughters to pass me without raising their eyes, without smiling, and, above all, without speaking to me.”

But you will tell me, the milliner also used to pass the night in your rooms. Ah! that was very different. Agathe was dressed like everybody else, and nobody noticed her; moreover, there were several people in the house for whom she made hats; and no one ever knew certainly whom she was going to see. So that I was able to retain Madame Bertin’s good graces, and was admitted to her society, when Mademoiselle Agathe honored me with her favors. And now I was tabooed because Nicette, the pretty flower girl, had passed the night in my rooms. And you know how it all came about. But the world is made that way; it judges by the exterior before it knows what is within. Be whatever you choose, but observe the proprieties; save appearances, and you will be received everywhere.

These reflections made me angry. I left the house, cursing those people who see everything in the same light and refuse to depart from the narrow circle that custom has marked out. I paced the streets angrily, I dined angrily, I drank my coffee angrily, and my frame of mind had not changed when, finding myself at the foot of the Champs-Élysées, I sat down in a chair, the back of which was against a large tree.

I had been sitting against the tree for some time; the darkness had dispersed some of the saunterers; and those who remained plunged deeper into the cross paths, seeking, as it seemed, by preference the darkest and least-frequented spots. Doubtless they had their reasons for that. I do not know precisely what I was thinking about, when I heard heavy steps approach and stop behind me. I turned and saw a man carrying what we call a magic lantern. He set his apparatus down against the tree; he had not seen me, or did not notice me. He lighted his lantern to exhibit his pictures, whereupon I at once thought of Florian’s monkey; the reminiscence made me laugh, and I prepared to listen to the owner of the lantern, although I feared that the comparison would be unfavorable to him.

I heard him mutter between his teeth as he arranged his lights:

“Ah! the hussy! the rascal! where has she been these three hours, since she left me on the pretext of going to feed the brat? She’s playing some game on me. If it wasn’t a show day, how quickly I’d drop the whole business!—Never mind, Madame Trousquin, I’ll find a way to solve my doubts; and if I see anything crooked, there’ll be a sharp and effective reckoning!”

The poor man was evidently jealous; he swore and stamped and glared from side to side, but Madame Trousquin did not appear. By way of compensation, thegleam of the magic lantern attracted a girl and a young soldier, the latter of whom took his seat close beside the former, bidding the showman to close the curtain around them. He enveloped them in an old blue or gray sheet,—it was impossible to distinguish the color,—and I could not help thinking that a magic lantern may be at times a very great convenience.

Père Trousquin began his performance, interrupting himself frequently to swear at his wife, who did not return; and I listened attentively, although I could see nothing, not being under the curtain; but I had an idea that the spectators for whom the pictures were being explained were not looking at them.

“First of all, messieurs and mesdames, you see the sun, the moon, the stars, and the little fishes. Farther on, the products of the soil, such as trees, vegetables, animals, caves, waterfalls, rattlesnakes. Pray examine Monsieur Sun, whom you can’t look at because he’s so bright; and Madame Moon, who is full because she’s in her first quarter. See those stars, how fast they travel, as if the devil was carrying ’em off!—Three hours to put Fifi to bed! Ah! the slut! how I’ll make her dance to-night!—See Venus, glistening like a pinchbeck pin! See the shepherd’s star! The shepherd Tircis, I suppose, seeing what his reputation is. And there’s the Three Kings, who are always together. And the Chariot, that travels like those you see in the mountains of Russia. And Mercury and Jupiter. And the Virgin and the Twins. And the Bull and the Goat. Anybody can understand about them. Do you see the Scales? Do you see the Scorpion?—a wicked beast he is! All these, messieurs and mesdames, are planets that determine the nervousinfectionsof the people born under theiraffluence.The planet Venus is for wanton women, the Shepherd for good-looking youths, the Three Kings for heroes, the Chariot for coachmen, Jupiter for roistering blades, Mercury for apothecaries, the Virgin for little girls, and the Goat for many worthy gentlemen whom you know. Observe, messieurs and mesdames, in the middle of that great black cloud, full of stars, between the Bear and the Ram, you’ll see a big, hairy comet, with a tail longer than a fox’s. That brilliant meteor has in all ages announced the end of the world; with its tail or its head it is capable of overturning our globe, which is held in place only by a thread, and broiling us all like chestnuts.”

At this point, a movement under the curtain led me to surmise that the comet had aroused great curiosity.

“One moment, messieurs and mesdames, and you’ll see what you will see.”

Père Trousquin pulled a cord to change the picture, and, after several very emphatic oaths, resumed his explanation, not changing his voice a quarter of a tone.

“This, messieurs and mesdames, shows you the interior of the palace of the great Kin-Kin-Li-King, Emperor of China and King of all the Pekins. You perceive him seated in his beautiful gilt armchair of state, in full ceremonial costume, surrounded by learned mandarins and national guardsmen. He is giving a public audience and receiving petitions from all the Chinese of the suburbs. Observe, in a corner, that father leaning on his daughter and a bamboo stick; he has come to demand justice upon a seducer who has made that poor innocent creature the mother of five little children, and who feeds them on blows alone. See, messieurs, how the ill-fated father’s features gleam with wrath and indignation; read the sorrow, pain, and repentance in the girl’s eyes. Thatman just to the left, wrapped in a brown cloak, with only his nose visible, is the seducer, awaiting his condemnation. See how pale and cadaverous his face is, how hollow his eyes, and how tremulous his gait; well he knows that he will not be let off cheap. Farther on, in the background——”

A stout female appeared at this juncture, panting for breath, and interrupted the explanation of the picture. I presumed that it was Madame Trousquin, and the dialogue that ensued between her and the owner of the lantern proved to me that my conjecture was well founded.

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

Ah! here you are at last, you cursed street walker!—Farther away, in the background—(To his wife.) You’ll pay me for this, that’s all I’ve got to say to you!—Farther away, in the background, that wretched creature whom the guards are taking away, and who is struggling and writhing as if he had the colic, is a deserter, who has just deserted and was going to the enemy’s camp on treason bent; his business will soon be settled; he’ll be shot and then hung.

MADAMETROUSQUIN. (during her husband’s explanation).

Hoity-toity! what are you making so much noise about? Didn’t I have to put Fifi to bed and make the soup? And I’d like to know if it ain’t a good, long walk from the Champs-Élysées to Rue Jean-Pain-Mollet!

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

You lie, I tell you; you went off at five o’clock, and here it is nine. Where in the devil have you been? Pull the cord.

Madame Trousquin placed on a stool a bowl which she had under her apron, then assumed her post on that side of the lantern from which the change of pictures was operated.

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

This, messieurs and mesdames, represents a view of Athens, in Greece.—(To his wife.) Put my soup on the charcoal and tell me where you’ve been.

MADAMETROUSQUIN.

Why, I’ve been at home, I tell you, you jealous fool! I met Angélique and talked with her a minute. Have you much of an audience?

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

Observe the beauty of the sky and water. Observe the palaces, the columns and temples, built by the Romans; note those magnificent statues, of which but few fragments remain. See that circus, in which they used to hold bull fights, to train the young men to be strong.—(To his wife.) I’m satisfied that you’ve been gallivanting with Grugeon.—See, in the distance, the famous Partiates fighting with their fists like Englishmen, and playing the game of Siam with a large roulette table.—(To his wife.) He asked you to take a glass of beer in a private room.—That handsome young man you see at the right is Alcibiades, with Socrates, his teacher, who is teaching him things he don’t know.

While I listened I saw the curtain move more violently, and I heard the girl say in an undertone:

“Oh! how stupid! Ah! how stupid! I tell you I won’t!”

Père Trousquin motioned to his wife to pull the cord, and resumed his harangue.

“This, messieurs and mesdames, is taken from mythology; it is the magnificent Judgment of Solomon, called the Wise, who is preparing to carve a little child, exactly as if it was a pie. Observe the consternation of the little one as he awaits his fate, with his legs in the air; observe the fiendish glee of that shrewish stepmother, who looks on, dry-eyed, as if someone was going to give her a slice of rabbit; but observe the grief of the real mother, who seeks to turn aside the cleaver which already threatens the innocent child’s navel.”

THEYOUNGWOMAN(under the curtain).

Ah! the villain! ah! the villain! he keeps right on. What a stupid!

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

Don’t be alarmed, there won’t be any cutting done; nature is about to speak.—(To his wife.) Give me my soup; I’m hungry.—The mighty Solomon, looking at the two mothers with Argus eyes, says to himself—(To his wife.) In God’s name, why don’t you get through with the onions?—“This child cannot have two mothers; if it was two fathers, that might be, such things have been seen.”—(To his wife.) You know something about that.—“Now, there’s a snake in the grass here; the real mother’s affection manifests itself by a deluge of tears; but this other vixen of a mother, who’s as placid as Baptiste,”—(To his wife.) It smells as if it was burned.—“has no maternal entrails; so the case is decided!”—Pull the cord.—“This, messieurs and mesdames, represents King David doing battle with the giant Goliath, theterror of the Philistines.”—(To his wife.) Why don’t you look and see if it’s right?—See with what force David hurls the stone that lays the giant in the dust.

MADAMETROUSQUIN. (looking over the lantern).

This ain’t the one; you’re showing ’em the Battle of Marengo now.

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

As I was saying, messieurs and mesdames, you see the famous Battle of Marengo, won by the French troops.—(To his wife.) You always put in too many carrots.

MADAMETROUSQUIN.

You don’t say! you want to choose your vegetables, do you? You’re getting to be very particular. How much have you made to-day?

MONSIEURTROUSQUIN.

Eighteen sous.—Note the gunners and the cuirassiers; see how the sabres play, while the cannonballs meet in mid air and the shells spread fire and blood on all sides; see the hussars, the dragoons, the trumpets, and the drums! hear the shrieks of the dead and dying, the moans of the wounded and vanquished. See that young soldier on the right, defending his flag with his teeth, because both his arms have been cut off; and at the left, that officer who has three dead horses upon him, and who forgets that he is suffocating while he takes aim at the enemy’s general. See the dust, the flame, the smoke, the carnage, and the corpses that embellish the picture. The action is superb, you see; the battlewaxes hotter and more furious——

At this point, the explanation was interrupted by an unforeseen catastrophe: the young woman and the soldier, who were evidently taking the liveliest interest in the battle,—for I kept hearing exclamations from the damsel and energetic monosyllables from her companion,—not content with moving the curtain, threw themselves violently against the magic lantern, at the most critical point of the Battle of Marengo. The shock was so violent that the ambulatory theatre could not sustain it; it fell backward, and the spectators fell upon it, while the manager of the establishment was thrown to the ground with his bowl of soup, and Madame Trousquin was entangled by the cords that she held in each hand.

I was left standing alone in the midst of the devastation, for my great tree preserved me from all peril. What a grotesque picture was presented to my eyes! Solomon and the great Kin-Kin-Li-King were lying in a heap with the gardens of the Luxembourg and of Athens; the sun no longer shone, the moon was covered with oil, the comet shorn of its tail. Père Trousquin was struggling under his broken lantern, still holding in his hand the handle of his bowl; and the young woman had fallen in a posture that disclosed beauty which would have put to shame the most perfect moon that ever graced a magic lantern. The young soldier’s head was in Père Trousquin’s bowl; his face was covered by carrots and onions; he seemed to be caught in such a way that he could not extricate himself from the trap. As for Mère Trousquin, she had fallen gracefully; her cords had held her up, and the curtain of the lantern concealed what might have caused her modesty to blush. However, as those who are least hurt always make the most noise, Madame Trousquin’s shrieks were simply deafening; her husband utteredthe most frightful oaths, and the young woman groaned plaintively. The soldier alone made no outcry; I believe that he found the soup and vegetables to his liking. All the idlers in the neighborhood were attracted to the broken lantern by the uproar, the shrieks and oaths; and I was surrounded in an instant by a crowd of people who came from I don’t know where; for a moment before I could not see a soul on the Champs-Élysées. My retreat was cut off; I could not make my way out of the crowd; but I was not sorry to see how it would end. After shouting and swearing to their heart’s content, the unfortunates tried to extricate themselves from the tangle they were in: the soldier succeeded in uncovering his face, the girl rose and arranged her skirts. Mère Trousquin disentangled herself from her cords, the magic lantern was lifted from the ground, and Père Trousquin struggled to his feet. The soldier tried to slink away with his companion; but he could not elude the owner of the lantern, who insisted that he should pay for the damages.

“My glasses are smashed,” said Père Trousquin; “you’ve spoiled my sun and moon, you’ve broken my Judgment of Solomon and my Chinese palace, and ruined my views of Greece; you’ve got to pay me for all that.”

“Go to the devil!” said the soldier, repairing the disorder of his costume as best he could. “I won’t pay you for anything at all. What do I care for your Chinese and your Solomon! your sun and moon look just like the night lights you buy for a sou; and as for your fat, just put it in your lamps.”

“You broke my lantern, and you’ve got to pay me for it.”

“You’re an old drunkard; if your lantern wasn’t firm on its legs, it’s no fault of mine.”

“You tumbled against it during the Battle of Marengo.”

“You threw it over, yourself, trying to imitate cannon.”

“You made me break my bowl.”

“You’re responsible for my tearing my breeches.”

“Besides, my lantern is a moral and respectable show, and I don’t propose to have it used for——”

“I say! stop that, or I’ll cut out your tongue!”

The soldier put his hand to his sword; the crowd instantly made a backward movement, the girl clung to her friend’s arm, and Mère Trousquin pulled her husband out of range, taking the stool for a buckler. The two adversaries measured each other with their eyes for several minutes, without moving. The soldier gave no sign of paying, and Père Trousquin did not seem to be in a mood to let him go away until he had remunerated him for his losses. Thereupon I concluded that there was but one way to adjust the affair without bloodshed. The magic lantern episode had amused me, and had entirely dispelled my ill humor; it was no more than fair that I should act as mediator in the dispute. I alone had remained near the combatants; for the bystanders held themselves respectfully aloof from the sword and the stool. I felt in my pocket and took out two five-franc pieces, which I tossed upon the damaged lantern.

“There,” said I to the proprietor, “is the means to restore your palaces and your planets; but take my advice, and another time don’t fasten your curtain so closely round your audience. Children’s theatres are frequented now by people of all ages; if you don’t believe me, ask Séraphin, who receivespetite-maîtressesat his show, because of the darkness in the hall during his arabesque fires.”

Père Trousquin stared with all his eyes; his wife pounced on the two coins, and the soldier was allowed to go his way with his companion; which he did not do without bowing to me most respectfully.

I too walked away, and turned into Rue de Rivoli. I looked at my watch; it was only nine o’clock, and I have never been fond of going to bed early, especially when I am in the mood for amusing myself. As the scene of the magic lantern had put me in that mood, I determined to encourage such a desirable disposition.

How was I to amuse myself? There are thousands of ways in Paris, you will say; but, in the matter of pleasure, you must never promise yourself too much, if you wish to have a little. In a large assembly, for six agreeable people you will find twenty bores; in a small party, your friends may have business affairs that annoy them; the ladies, sick headaches or the vapors; and you often pass a very dull hour where you looked forward to much entertainment. The wisest plan, therefore, is not to count upon anything. But I remembered that there was a grand fête at Tivoli. It was nine o’clock; if I took a cab, I should arrive just at the height of the evening.

A lovely spot, that Tivoli Garden! When I stepped within its gates, it seemed to me that I entered one of those enchanted sojourns so splendidly described in theThousand and One Nights. The music, the illuminations, the sports of all sorts, the fireworks—everything combined to dazzle the eyes and excite the imagination. What a pity it seemed when a vulgar face and a fishwoman’s costume marred the beauty of the picture and reminded me that I was in a public garden, where any decently dressed person could enter on payment of three francs twelve sous!

Before I had taken twenty steps in the garden, I had seen many things. What beautiful avenues! How those garlands of fire burst on the sight! Yonder, people gathered in crowds, gazed at one another, scrutinized costumes, and sought acquaintances: it was the Boulevard de Gand of Tivoli. Farther on, the lights became less frequent; an occasional lamp guided your steps without betraying you. The couples were more widely scattered; they no longer went about to exhibit themselves; some, indeed, seemed to try to evade observation, to desire darkness and mystery. Happy thickets! how often have you sheltered love and pleasure! how many kisses have been given and received under cover of your dense foliage! Ah! if you could speak!—But I seemedto hear voices close at hand; I had thoughtlessly turned my steps in the direction of those solitary thickets, where I, being alone, had nothing to hope for. As I circled a clump of shrubs, I saw something white on the grass; a gentleman and a lady were there, discussing some very weighty and secret matter no doubt, for I thought that they were whispering to each other. But my presence disturbed them; the lady, with a little shriek, pushed her companion away; whereupon I walked quickly in another direction. What pleasure can there be in interfering with that of other people?

I determined to go back to the crowd, to leave those thickets, where it almost angered me to be alone. Once more I was in the bright light. I heard the rumbling of cars; I was near the mountains which all the women ascend—thegrande dameand the working girl, the milliner and the modest laundress, the kept woman and the little schoolgirl. What delight they all seem to take in the descent! And yet, the resistance of the air disarranges their hair, loosens their hats, and blows their curls all about; but they submit to that sacrifice for the pleasure of going like the wind for twenty seconds. Keen enjoyment is depicted on all the faces in the cars; only an occasional Englishman retains his gravity during the trip.

I was alone, so I did not make the ascent; it seemed to me that to enjoy that pastime you must be seated beside a woman whom you like; then you may put your arm about a slender waist and press a shapely figure; as you fly down the incline, you may venture much; for you are sure of not being repulsed, your companion being so bewildered by the rapidity of the descent that she has not time to be angry.

All pleasures turn to the advantage of love. What pleasure is not increased twofold by the presence of the loved one? In the dance, on the cars, under the thickets, there must be two to be happy; without a woman, how can one abandon one’s self to the most delicious sensations, the most loving outpourings of the heart? Only through her do we know that we have a heart. But enough of these ideas, to which the garden gave rise! I walked across several squares, attracted by music; it was a singer. Ah! I did not stop there; if I had, Tivoli would have ceased to be a place of enchantment.

Suddenly my eyes fell upon a number of armchairs swinging in the air and travelling round and round, with ladies seated in them; it was a Russian swing. Why did all the men walk in that direction and stand, with their noses in the air and a smile on their faces, watching the chairs turn? Ah! I saw that the wind lifted the ladies’ skirts more or less, so that one could catch a glimpse of a leg and sometimes of a knee. The game seemed to amuse the performers as much as the spectators. The ladies apparently did not realize what it was that absorbed the attention of the gentlemen, and did not hear the wanton jests in which most of the latter indulged; for they continued to fly through the air, laughing like madcaps. But the machine stopped; it was time to alight. I remained, in order to see the ladies at closer quarters. Mon Dieu! messieurs, you surely did not need to give yourselves a crick in the neck to catch a glimpse of an ankle! So far as I could judge, you might have obtained a sight of a great deal more, without much trouble. I quitted the Russian swing for Bobèche’s performance, and found an enormous crowd in front of the stage. I looked about in vain for a chair; I could not find one that wasunoccupied. So I was compelled to remain standing. I sidled in among the elect, and I saw something, at all events, even if I did not see Bobèche; I saw the evident enjoyment of all the young men who, like myself, were standing. And yet they could not see anything; but they were with ladies who stood on chairs, and they supported them, to guard against accident; their arms were passed around the ladies’ skirts, and the ladies leaned on their shoulders. I could understand how pleasant that must be. But I saw one lady who seemed on the point of falling. Why did nobody support her? Because she was a matron. But a becurled and befrizzled young woman, who would have been pretty had not her costume been so absurd for a public garden, hurried to the elderly lady’s side.

“Wait, mamma,” she said; “I’ll put my chair behind yours, and then you can lean on me; I’ll hold you up.”

The mother consented to this arrangement, and the young woman remounted her chair, which she placed behind her mamma’s; but I noticed that she had somebody to support her; a tall, light-haired youngster kept his eyes on her all the time; he stationed himself close beside her, looked at her, and made signs to her. The young woman looked at nothing but Bobèche; and as she explained the performance to her mother, she took a little note from her glove and dropped it into the young man’s hand, without the slightest confusion or affectation, and without interrupting her conversation. Really, our young ladies display a fascinating grace in all that they do; the world is progressing toward perfection.

The tall youth crumpled the note in his hand; he longed to read it at once, but he dared not. I wasamused by his impatience; I was curious to see what he would do. But an elderly couple arrived, dragging their chairs after them; the woman planted herself directly in front of me, almost resting against my face, while her husband deprived me of what little view I had by standing beside her.

I could endure it no longer; to induce me to remain with my head on a level with the waists of all that multitude, I felt that something deeply interesting was necessary. I was not at all desirous to maintain my juxtaposition to the enormous circumference which obscured my vision. So I extricated myself, not without difficulty, from the chairs and legs and dresses that surrounded me. When I was outside the circle, I stopped to breathe a bit; it is good to inhale the fresh air when one has seen Bobèche, even out of doors.

I followed a noble avenue of lindens which led to the large tract of grass set aside for swings and seesaws and blind-man’s-buff and the Egyptian bird, and a thousand other things, of which the prettiest are those one does not see. I heard ladies’ voices imploring their escorts not to go so fast; while the latter, to display their strength and skill, made all the play they could with their loins and knees, at the risk of making their companions in the swings swoon from fright: that was a new way to make one’s self agreeable, I thought.

I heard the voice of lamentation near by. It was a small boy of twelve or thirteen years, who wanted to seesaw with a tall lout of eighteen at least. No sooner had the latter gone to the ground on his end of the plank which served as a tilt, than the little fellow at the other end received a violent shock that threw him over the little iron bar behind which stood those awaiting their turn.The poor child fell; luckily, it was on the soft turf, and he was not hurt; but he limped away, while the tall zany plumed himself on the shaking-up he had given him. A very pretty game is this seesawing; but I should advise those who indulge in it to have the ground mattressed; for I know by experience that falls are frequent and dangerous.

But what was that report? It brought me involuntarily to a standstill. Was I near a display of fireworks? No; the Egyptian bird had just been set off. How proud the man seemed who had done the trick! To be sure, it was only the eleventh time that he had fired. A stout party seized the wire. I recognized him: it was Raymond. I should have been astonished not to fall in with him, for the fellow was everywhere.

“I’ll bet,” he said in a bantering tone to the man who had just fired, taking pains to raise his voice in order to attract attention, “I’ll bet, my dear fellow [he knows everybody], that I release the spring in three shots.”

“I’ll bet you don’t; it isn’t so easy as you seem to think.”

“Easy! easy! if it was easy, there’d be no merit in it. I have an absolutely accurate eye. Come, I’ll bet you an ice.”

“That you do it in three trials?”

“Yes; in fact, I’m certain that I shan’t have to try three times.”

“I’ll take your bet.”

“All right; now you’ll see.”

I halted, feeling perfectly certain, for my part, that my neighbor would make a fool of himself in some way. The man who managed the machine was reloading the iron box to which the spring was attached.

“Get out of the way!” cried Raymond, impatient to display his skill, and raising the bird as high in the air as his arms allowed.

The box was closed and the man stepped aside; Raymond threw the bird with such accuracy that the piece of iron, after following a zigzag course, struck six inches from the target. My neighbor was not discouraged, but threw the bird again—with no better success.

“It’s all out of equilibrium,” he cried; “the wire’s crooked, it isn’t my fault.”

“This is your last shot.”

“Oh! this one will do the business.”

Raymond took aim for at least three minutes; at last the bird flew through the air. It finished its flight; but there was no report.

“I’ve won! I’ve won!” cried Raymond’s adversary; “you owe me an ice.”

“Oh! I don’t know whether you’ve won or not; that depends. I am sure that the bird’s beak moved the spring, and the reason it didn’t go off must be that the powder’s damp.”

“You’re trying to crawl out of it! you’ve lost, and you owe me an ice!”

“Well! I demand my revenge!”

“Oh! that’s fair enough; I agree. That will make two ices instead of one.”

“We’ll see about that. I say, my man, just go and overhaul the spring; I’m sure there’s something out of order that prevented the thing from going off.”

To please his customer, the man opened the box and examined it. Meanwhile, my neighbor had taken the bird; and, annoyed at having lost his first bet, he scrutinized the iron beak, measured it with his eye, and triedto make sure that the bird was perfectly balanced, lifting it carefully by the two wings.

“I see what the matter is, I see what it is,” he said confidently; “if I had examined it like this before, I shouldn’t have missed a shot. You must hold the bird very lightly, with the tips of your fingers, and throw it without any jerk.”

As he spoke, Monsieur Raymond threw the bird, which struck the head of the unfortunate man who was looking to see if the spring was in perfect order. The poor man was seriously wounded; he fell to the ground with horrible yells, and everybody ran toward him. Monsieur Raymond took advantage of the confusion to escape. He forced a passage through the crowd, pushing everybody aside with his arms and elbows; he leaped over chairs, ran like a madman through the groups seated on the grass, tripped over the legs of apetite-maîtressewho was chatting unconcernedly with a young officer, fell heavily upon her, and with his stomach crushed a bust that luckily was made of tulle. The lady shrieked, in order to make people think that it was her flesh that was flattened out; and the officer sprang to his feet, in a rage at the disappearance of charms which he had believed to be genuine. He seized a chair and pursued Raymond, who was already far away; for fear lent him wings.

I amused myself by following my neighbor, who had lost his hat in the scuffle. I saw him running on and getting into fresh difficulty every minute; he ran into a swing, collided with the wooden horses, overturned two girls who were dancing in a little open space, knocked over all the tubs of shrubs that came in his way, and finally, to elude his pursuers, rushed out into the mainavenue, hoping to lose himself in the crowd. But as he passed under a garland of colored lanterns, which was not far enough from the ground and hung down a little at the sides, Monsieur Raymond, trying to outstrip everybody, became entangled in the illuminations; the rope broke, and all the little colored lanterns fell on the promenaders, who, in an instant, were smeared with oil. The ladies uttered heartrending shrieks when they saw their toques, their feathers, and their gowns dripping with lamp oil; nor were the young men less enraged, for their coats and waistcoats and frills were all ruined, and diffused an execrable odor. Once more Raymond found himself the object of general animadversion, and the poor devil, panting for breath, was obliged to continue his flight. He leaped over a hedge, in order to get away from the avenue more quickly; he did not know where to go; and he finally entered the enclosure set apart for the fireworks, despite the shouts of an old pensioner who told him that he could not go there. He rushed through the bombs, mortars, rockets, pinwheels, and Roman candles, while the pensioner shouted for the gendarmes to come to arrest a man who was smashing everything he saw and seemed determined to prevent the pyrotechnic display that was in preparation. The police arrived; Raymond had barely time to hurl himself through a transparency, which he burst with his head; at last he disappeared. Tranquillity was restored; the damage that my neighbor had done was repaired as far as possible; and I returned toward the centre of activity, laughing at Raymond’s mishaps, which had afforded me abundant satisfaction for his petty mischief-making that morning.

“Faith!” I said to myself, as I walked toward the dancing enclosure; “if I had come to Tivoli for no otherpurpose than to witness Raymond’s prowess, my evening would have been a great success. But I am in a lucky vein; perhaps fate has other meetings in store for me.”

I paused near a juggler’s booth; the crowd was as large as in front of Bobèche’s; but there was somewhat less confusion. Most of the spectators were seated, and I succeeded, although I was in the last row, in seeing a part of what was going on; the man did tricks with cards, stole rings, and changed a glass of wine into a bouquet. All this delighted the audience, who made no attempt to detect his confederates, and pretended not to see the preparations which are essential for tricks performedwithout preparation.

“He’s a magician!” said a little man, opening his eyes to their fullest extent and looking stupidly about him. “Faith! I can’t understand it, can you, wife?”

“Oh! I want to see for myself,” replied the little man’s better half; and she motioned to the juggler that she wanted to draw a card. He approached, chattering in Italian, German, and English, the result being an utterly incomprehensible jargon which completely enchanted the audience.

The lady drew an eight of spades, which she then replaced in the pack and shuffled the cards; but our magician was certain of guessing the card, because the pack he offered her contained eights of spades and nothing else; and while he bewildered his hearers by his constant jabbering, he slipped his hand behind the little man, who, when another trick was being performed, was suddenly requested to rise, and was stupefied to find under him the card that his wife had drawn.

I walked away from the sleight-of-hand booth; but, happening to put my hand in my pocket, I failed to findmy handkerchief. That trick was better than any of the juggler’s; it had been done very adroitly; luckily, I was not wearing my watch seal.

Behold me at last before the enclosure consecrated to the dance. But it was no longer good form to dance in the public gardens; only at village fêtes did our young Parisian exquisites condescend to execute a balance and a ladies’ chain in the open air. Here, none but hucksters, petty bourgeoises, and grisettes dare to abandon themselves to the joys of the dance; they know nothing of conventions, of good form; they want to enjoy themselves, and they are so happy when dancing! their pleasure is depicted on their faces! they hop and skip with such hearty good will! By the faces of the fair damsels who were watching the dancers I could see that good form is sometimes very ill-humored; but they avenged themselves by criticising those who defied convention. They sneered and laughed at the others, and made unkind remarks; good form and propriety never forbid that. They ridiculed everything that they could not do; they spoke slightingly of what in their hearts they loved: it was the fable of the fox and the grapes again.

But the spectators were most numerous around one particular quadrille; the dancers were surrounded by a triple row. I was certain that there must be some unusually pretty face there, or some particularly absurd costume. I approached and succeeded in forcing my way to the front. I looked at one of the dancers: she had an insignificant face and a commonplace dress; she could not be the object of such universal curiosity.

“She is mighty pretty.”

“Oh! you wait till you see how gracefully she dances!”

These remarks were made by two young men who stood near me. Thereupon I glanced over the different performers in the quadrille, and my eyes soon rested on a young woman wearing a little cap with a bunch of roses on it.

I admired the young woman’s piquant face; her eyes were animated by the excitement of dancing; her enjoyment made her bosom rise and fall more rapidly, and the flattering murmur that arose on all sides brought a vivid flush to her cheeks. What woman is insensible to praise? Did you ever meet one who was, reader? If so, I advise you to register her name on your tablets.

But, as I scrutinized the pretty dancer, a sudden reminiscence flashed through my mind: those features, that figure, the bunch of roses, and the plan of coming to Tivoli. Unquestionably it was Mademoiselle Caroline; it was my little flowermaker of the preceding evening. Thoughtless fool that I was! I had forgotten her, and had been strolling about the garden without trying to find her! But since chance had brought me into her presence, I determined to make the most of it, and, good form or not, to try to obtain a dance with her, so that I might speak with her.

But suppose that anybody who knew me should see me dancing at Tivoli! I felt brave enough to defy the criticism and mockery of the young men and the pleasantry of the ladies; and as I contemplated Caroline’s seductive features, I said to myself, with Rousseau: “I must be happy! ’tis man’s first need!”—Now, to be happy, it was necessary first of all that I should dance with Caroline.

The contradance came to an end, and the men escorted their partners to their seats. I followed my little flowermaker with my eyes, and saw her take her seat beside a plainly dressed old woman, evidently her aunt. Her partner remained by her side; he was the Jules of the preceding evening. In due time, another girl came up with her partner and sat beside Caroline; this completed the party, which, as I remembered, was to consist of four persons.

I walked back and forth in the neighborhood of Mademoiselle Caroline and her friends for a long while; I passed before the group and stared at the pretty creature; but she paid no attention to me. I saw that I must make up my mind to invite her to dance, but I had difficulty in doing it; for I felt that I should look like a petty shop-clerk who was in the habit of going to Tivoli to dance on Sundays. While I was making these reflections, the orchestra played the prelude; that decided me, and I walked toward the young women. But just as I was on the point of delivering my invitation, the pretty flowermaker rose and gave her hand to a young man, who had got the start of me, and who led her out to dance. I had arrived too late; so much for listening to my absurd self-esteem! However, I swore that I would not be behindhand for the next contradance; and for fearof being defrauded again, I hastened to the quadrille in which Mademoiselle Caroline was performing, and then and there engaged her for the next one. She accepted, and I was overjoyed; I stood near her, mingling my words of praise with those of several other young men; and while her partner was executing theavant deux, I complimented her on her bunch of roses and apologized for my awkwardness of the previous evening. At that, she looked up at me and smiled, and took more notice of me; I had reason to believe that her scrutiny did not result to my disadvantage. From time to time, I ventured a word or two to the effect that I had come to Tivoli solely in the hope of meeting her; she did not reply, but I saw that she listened; if she were ever so little of a coquette, I felt sure of making my way! And she was, she must be; for all women are. The dance at an end, I impatiently awaited the following one, when I should be able to talk with Caroline, and it would be easy for me to find out how far I might hope. In the briefest interview I can generally tell what manner of person I have to do with, and I rarely make a mistake; not that I believe all that they say to me, but I divine how much hope they are willing to give me. Women, being more expansive than men, have a certainlaisser allerwhich says a great deal to one who is accustomed to deal with them. When they have wit, a mere hint discloses it; when they have nothing but jargon, they murder you with it; when they have nothing to say, there is no possibility of mistake. Montaigne said: “Style makes the man;” I think that he might well have said also: “Conversation makes the woman;” but I beg his pardon for presuming to express my opinion in conjunction with his.

Mademoiselle Caroline was escorted to her seat. While waiting for the next contradance, which would furnish me with the means of judging her more accurately, I strolled through the thickets that surrounded the dancing enclosure. I preferred not to remain like a noodle beside the little flowermaker, nor to parade up and down in front of her. But the moment drew near when I might hope to squeeze her tiny fingers and press her hand tenderly in mine. Give me the dance for lovers! you can boldly reveal your secret sentiments, you can declare them without speaking a word. I am inclined to think that that is why the young women have so great a fondness for that exercise and enjoy themselves so heartily at balls. How many avowals have been made and reciprocated while forming a ladies’ chain or a trenise! and despite their active surveillance, their mammas are powerless to prevent that.

But the time passed; I strolled back toward my partner. Mon Dieu! what a noise! what an uproar! what confusion in the garden! The first bomb had just been fired, and everybody was running toward the great central square, dragging their chairs, or carrying them in their arms.

“The fireworks! the fireworks!” people shouted on all sides.

What a rush! In heaven’s name, had they never seen fireworks before in their lives? How they pushed and jostled and fought, to pass one another! What a hurly-burly! But what had become of Caroline? I hurried to the dancing enclosure—it was deserted; everybody had abandoned it for the fireworks. Where my pretty grisette had been sitting, I saw two men fighting for a chair, pulling it in opposite directions; each of themfinally carried away half, which must have been exceedingly useful. I was not in luck with Mademoiselle Caroline; she disappeared at the moment that I was going to join her. However, I did not lose all hope; I assumed that she had gone to see the fireworks, and I determined to try to find her there.

I walked in the direction that the crowd had taken; but at the sight of that moving mass, one half of which concealed the other,—for some had climbed upon the chairs, while others clung to the frames,—I felt that it would be absurd to look for anyone there. So I resigned myself to wait until the display was over; perhaps the dancing would be renewed then, and I should see her again. Meanwhile, I walked around the outskirts of the crowd, and saw almost as much of the fireworks as those who stood on their chairs. I also observed several couples, who, instead of joining the crowd, went in the opposite direction and concealed themselves in the obscure shrubbery; they evidently had not come to Tivoli for the fireworks; but I am convinced, none the less, that they had been waiting impatiently for them to begin, and that the display would afford them as much pleasure as those who waited for it with their noses in the air.

There was a set piece representing Ixion crushed by the thunderbolts of Jupiter; and I heard a gentleman explaining it to his family, while he supported his wife and held up his little girl, who shrieked at every explosion.

“Who’s that tall man in a red cloak riding horseback on a bird?” inquired the child.

“That’s Jupiter, my dear, on a bird-of-paradise.”

“And what’s that stick he’s shaking in his hand?”

“That’s his thunderbolt to whip men who aren’t good.”

“Oh! yes; like my school teacher’s switch.”

“Who was this Ixion, my dear?” queried his better half.

“A Roman, I believe. Wait and let me think. Oh, yes! he’s the one that wanted to drive Jupiter’s chariot. He’ll be struck by lightning, as you’ll see.”

“What does that mean, my dear?”

“That means that he’ll be thrown into that big hole, which is hell, and once there——”

“Oh, yes! I understand; then he’ll be struck by lightning; quite right, too.”

“Oh! oh! oh! I’m afraid!” cried a little boy, who had hidden under the chairs.

“Hush, Octave! if you squirm so, you’ll make us fall. I won’t bring you to Tivoli again; you’re too big a coward. For shame! a big boy, nine years old, who plays with my national guardsman’s cap all day long, and don’t dare to look at a rocket!”

At that moment a mortar burst with a great noise, and Octave gave a leap which overturned his mother’s chair; she fell, dragging with her her husband and daughter, the latter of whom tried to save herself by clinging to a gentleman’s coat; which coat, being decidedly old, could not stand the strain; the skirt remained in the child’s hand, and the owner began to shoutthief! thinking that somebody had stolen his handkerchief, and unable to find even his pocket. At the same instant there was a more deafening and more prolonged report; innumerable bursts of flame darted in all directions, twisting and writhing like serpents, dazzling the eye and filling the garden momentarily with a magical, supernatural brilliancy, as if the whole expanse were on fire; but the noise, the glare, and the false daylight lasted but a moment; a few rocket sticks, cartridges, and the débrisof bombs fell in the garden, and in many instances upon the sightseers, spreading terror and confusion among them. I saw one lady whose hat was burned, another whose shawl was riddled with little holes made by the sparks from a rocket; and it seemed to me that that was paying rather dear for the pleasure of witnessing a display of fireworks. I turned away, well pleased not to have received a splash from the pyrotechnic drama, but greatly surprised that I had not seen my neighbor Raymond in some transparency; for, having lost sight of him among the preparations for the display, I expected to see him appear during the final discharge.

I returned to the dancing enclosure. My invited partner was not there; I was compelled, therefore, to abandon all hope of finding Caroline. I watched the throng of honest bourgeois, who, as soon as the last of the fireworks was discharged, set off for their firesides, content with their evening’s enjoyment, which was to last them throughout the week. I strolled at random along the avenues, where the colored lanterns were beginning to flicker and grow dim. Suddenly I heard a little bell, and, although the hearty laughter of some young people near by, the whispering of the ladies, and the distant sound of the dance dispelled all possible illusion touching the reality of the hermitage, I went up none the less to the abode of the so-called sorcerer, who, with the assistance of a long beard, a wand, a pointed hat, a gray frock, and a horn three feet long, undertook to tell fortunes at a very moderate price.

Young girls have always had a great fondness for having their fortunes told. Those who are inexperienced are consumed with the longing to know whether a handsome dark young man or a pretty blond will come soonto tell them something; those who are not novices are anxious to be informed as to the fidelity of their lovers, and at the same time to know whether other men are in love with them; the pretty ones know that they will make conquests, the ill-favored delude themselves concerning their charms; desire arouses hope in all, and all are content. I was agreeably surprised to see my young flowermaker awaiting her turn to have her fortune told. I walked toward her; she saw me and blushed; that was a good sign. But her aunt and Monsieur Jules were close by; I could not speak to her. An idea came into my mind while the soothsayer was finishing his séance with the young woman who was with Caroline. I took out my tablets,—a forehanded man always carries them,—withdrew to a lamp post, and with a lead pencil scrawled a most passionate and appealing declaration, which was utterly devoid of sense, but would flatter the girl, I felt sure.

Then I rejoined the curious onlookers, taking care to get close to the soothsayer. Caroline had taken her friend’s place, and the magic horn was already applied to her ear, when I pulled the sorcerer’s frock; I pointed to my note, on which I had laid a five-franc piece. He put out his hand and grasped it; those fellows readily understand one’s meaning. All this was done without attracting the attention of the bystanders. Mademoiselle Caroline was told a thousand pleasant things, no doubt, for she laughed like a madwoman; at times she seemed perturbed and surprised, and glanced furtively at me. I was sure that the soothsayer was talking about me; that knave knew his business; I heartily commend him to the sex. At last he took the girl’s hand and handed her her horoscope, slipping my note into her hand at the same time, and bidding her to postpone reading it until she went to bed. It seemedto me that Mademoiselle Caroline understood, for she thrust the paper into her bosom before joining her aunt.

At last she went away with her whole party, and I did not follow her. I had an idea that my hermit could tell me all that I wanted to know; for he had spoken to her in an undertone, and she had replied many times by the medium of the horn.

My man came to me and led me into his hermitage, where he dashed into the subject at once, without waiting for me to question him.

“Her name’s Caroline.”

“I know it.”

“She makes flowers.”

“I know that too.”

“She’s eighteen years old.”

“So I should think.”

“She hasn’t any lover.”

“So I hoped.”

“She means to remain virtuous.”

“I doubt it.”

“She has noticed you.”

“I think it likely.”

“She is attracted to you.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“She works on Rue Sainte-Apolline, from eight in the morning till eight in the evening.”

“That is all I want to know.”

I rewarded the invaluable soothsayer and returned to the garden, which was beginning to be deserted. I walked in the direction of the exit, enchanted to know at last where I could find Mademoiselle Caroline.

As I passed before a silhouette booth, I imagined that I heard a voice which was not unfamiliar to me. I stopped.People were disputing in the small oiled-paper studio, and I recognized my neighbor Raymond’s voice. What in the devil was he doing there? I listened; the maker of silhouettes said:

“It’s half-past eleven, monsieur; everybody’s gone, and I must shut up shop, too.”

“One more silhouette, my friend, and I’ll go.”

“You’ve been here in my studio more than two hours, monsieur; I have cut you out seventeen times already.”

“Well, this will make eighteen. Oh! I can’t have too many portraits; I shall find places enough for them! everybody’s asking me for one.”

“I tell you that I must close my shop, monsieur.”

“Close it, if you choose; I’ll stay inside; I don’t propose to go yet.”

“You will go, monsieur.”

“One more silhouette!”

“No, monsieur, you can’t have it.”

I could not restrain a roar of laughter, aroused by the desperate decision of Raymond, who, in his fear of being arrested for all the stupid things he had done during the evening, had sought shelter in the silhouette booth, which he was absolutely determined not to abandon. But my laughter caused great perturbation in my neighbor’s soul.

“Hark!” he said to the painter with scissors; “didn’t you hear? There’s somebody close by. You told me the garden was empty.”

“Pay me, monsieur, and be off; or I’ll go and fetch the guard to put you out.”

The threat of the guard made Raymond shudder; he realized that he must leave the friendly shelter of the booth; but before venturing into the garden, he thrusthis head out of the door, to see if anyone was on the watch for him. The first person he saw was your humble servant, whose inclination to laugh was vastly increased at sight of the pale and discomposed features of his neighbor. Raymond was uncertain whether he had better hide again or not, when he saw me; but he made the best of the meeting, and, being certain that I would not impose upon his unfortunate plight, he clung to me as to the anchor of salvation.

“My dear Monsieur Dorsan, how delighted I am to meet you! If you knew all that has happened to me to-night in this infernal garden!”

“Oh! I know! it’s made noise enough.”

“Mon Dieu! do they mean to arrest me?”

“Why, it’s very possible. The man that you hurt is in a very bad way; the young men whose coats you ruined are collected at the gate; the damage you did in the garden amounts to considerable, and——”

“Oh! what an unlucky devil!”—And Raymond rushed back into the silhouette booth, despite the remonstrances of the proprietor, who seized him by the coat and tried to put him out.

“Save me, neighbor, I have no hope except in you!”

“Very well, I’ll do it; although you played me a most contemptible trick last night.”

“Oh! I promise you—I swear—it was mere chance. I will contradict all that I said, if that will gratify you; I will say that the girl slept with me.”

“No, no; if you please, Monsieur Raymond, you will be careful never to mention her.—But let us begin by leaving this silhouette emporium. Follow me.”

“I am with you, my dear neighbor.—Give me my portraits; how much are they?”

“Seventeen, at forty sous, makes just thirty-four francs, monsieur.”

“The devil! that’s rather dear!”

“It’s the regular price.”

“Come, come,” I said to Raymond, whose lugubrious face was not worth thirty-four francs at that moment; “you can make a lot of your friends happy with them; that’s some little compensation.”

Raymond paid, with a sigh, and seized my arm, imploring me to protect him.

“I ask nothing better,” said I; “but you must appreciate the fact that I can’t stand my ground alone against half a hundred young men who are waiting for you at the gate, and are to all appearance determined to make it bad for you.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that; but I can’t pass the night here; I have no hat, and I should certainly take cold; and to-morrow night I am to sing the aria fromJocondeat a musical party.”

“This is very embarrassing. Do you want to risk going out at the gate?”

“No, indeed! These young men, when they get excited, are very brutal.”

“I see but one way, then, and that is to climb over the wall.”

“But suppose I am taken for a thief?”

“Never fear; I have a scheme in my head. Come!”

We took the darkest paths. Raymond followed me in fear and trembling. I led him to the wall on Rue de Clichy, and bade him sit on the ground behind a clump of trees.

“Stay here; I’ll go out of the gate and come around to the opposite side of the wall on Rue de Clichy. Whenthere seems to be an opportune moment for you to climb over without risk, I will give the signal.”

“What signal?”

“I will clap my hands twice.”

“Agreed. The wall’s rather high; but still, rather than be beaten to a jelly—I can’t hesitate.”

“Adieu! patience; don’t make a noise, don’t stir, but wait for the signal.”

“Oh! I won’t fail. You couldn’t lend me your hat, could you?”

“Impossible; I have to sing in a duet to-morrow.”

“Then I’ll put my handkerchief over my head.”

“That will be very wise.”

“By the way, if they question you at the gate, you must say that I’ve gone.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Don’t leave me too long.”

“Of course, I shan’t suggest your showing yourself while I see anybody prowling about.”

“Dear Dorsan! I am tremendously obliged to you.”

“Adieu! I go to keep watch for you.”

I took my leave of Raymond, laughing inwardly at his plight and his poltroonery. At last I left the garden; it was high time, for they were just going to close the gates. As I passed, I glanced down Rue de Clichy, where my neighbor supposed that I was doing sentry duty in his behalf; and I strolled leisurely homeward, leaving dear Raymond to wait for my signal. His conduct of the preceding evening merited that little retaliation; moreover, the most speedy revenge is always the best.

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