I'll
strike. You were not obliged to invite me here. It isn't my business to
furnish amusement to parties who've drunk too much wine. And why
should you despise me? It's true I haven't any money while you have
plenty--that I work and you carouse. Still that's no reason why
you should scorn me. Besides, those who are poor in the morning are
sometimes rich in the evening. Every dog has his day. I have an idea
that I shall have some coin when yours is all gone. Then it will be
my turn to laugh; and as I'm a good-natured fellow, I will give you my
half-smoked cigars."

M. Wilkie seemed delighted. He had climbed on to the piano and seated
himself, with his feet on the keyboard; and there, as on a judgment
seat, he listened and applauded, alternately taking Chupin's part, and
then the viscount's. "Bravo, gamin!" or, "Give it to him, Coralth!" he
shouted in turn.

This irritated the viscount exceedingly. "I see that we shall be obliged
to call in the police to settle the affair," he said, sneeringly.

"The police!" roared Chupin. "Ah! that won't do, you scamp--" But his
voice died away in his throat, and he stood motionless, speechless, with
his arm raised as if he were about to strike, and his eyes dilated with
astonishment.

For a change of expression in M. de Coralth's face had enlightened him;
and he suddenly recollected when and under what circumstances he had
known this so-called viscount. He remembered, too, the name he had borne
when he first met him. "Oh!" he stammered; "oh! oh!"

However, the effect of this discovery was to dispel his anger, or rather
to restore his calmness, and, addressing M. de Coralth, he exclaimed:
"Don't be angry at what I've said, m'sieur; it was only a jest--I
know that there's a wide difference between a poor devil like me and a
viscount like you--I haven't a sou, you see, and that maddens me. But
I'm not so very bad-looking, fortunately, and I'm always hoping that
the daughter of some rich banker will fall in love with me and marry me.
Some people have such luck, you know. If I meet with any you may be sure
I shall pass myself off as the lost child of some great personage--of
a duke, for instance--and if the real son exists, and troubles me, why
I'll quietly put him out of the way, if possible."

With but one exception the persons present did not understand a single
word of this apparent nonsense; and indeed the yellow-haired damsels
stared at the speaker in amazement. Still it was e