you to drive her to Quai Saint Michel, crack your whip; if she gives you any other address, get down from your seat, and arrange your harness. I will keep in sight."

He stepped across the street, and stood in the door of a wine-store. He had not long to wait. In a few minutes the loud cracking of a whip apprised him that Mme. Nina had started for the Archangel.

"Aha," said he, gayly, "I told her, at any rate."

At the same hour that Mme. Nina Gypsy was seeking refuge at the Archangel, so highly recommended by Fanferlot the Squirrel, Prosper Bertomy was being entered on the jailer's book at the police office.Since the moment when he had resumed his habitual composure, he had not faltered. Vainly did the people around him watch for a suspicious expression, or any sign of giving way under the danger of his situation. His face was like marble. One would have supposed him insensible to the horrors of his condition, had not his heavy breathing, and the beads of perspiration standing on his brow, betrayed the intense agony he was suffering.

At the police office, where he had to wait two hours while the commissary went to receive orders from higher authorities, he entered into conversation with the two bailiffs who had charge of him. At twelve o'clock he said he was hungry, and sent to a restaurant nearby for his breakfast, which he ate with a good appetite; he also drank nearly a bottle of wine. While he was thus occupied, several clerks from the prefecture, who have to transact business daily with the commissary of police, curiously watched him. They all formed the same opinion, and admiringly said to each other: "Well, he is made of strong material, he is!" "Yes, my dandy looks too lamb-like to be left to his own devices. He ought to have a strong escort."

When he was told that a coach was waiting for him at the door, he at once got up; but, before going out, he requested permission to light a cigar, which was granted. A flower-girl stood just by the door, with her stand filled with all varieties of flowers. He stopped and bought a bunch of violets. The girl, seeing that he was arrested, said, by way of thanks: "Good luck to you, my poor gentleman!" He appeared touched by this mark of interest and replied: "Thanks, my good woman, but 'tis a long time since I have had any."

It was magnificent weather, a bright spring morning. As the coach went along Rue Montmartre, Prosper kept his head out of the window, at the same time smilingly complaining at being imprisoned on such a 

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