is fingers; for he realized there
must be some deep villainy under all this plotting and planning; he was
sure of it, since Coralth was mixed up in the affair. "I will serve
my guv'nor for nothing," he decided. "When a man is avenged, he's well
paid."

Chupin decided upon this course because he could think of no better
plan. Still, if he had been master of events he would have acted
otherwise. He would have quietly presented the government with this
inheritance which he found M. Wilkie so unworthy of. "The devil only
knows what he'll do with it," he thought. "He'll squander it as my
father squandered the fortune that was given him. It is only fools who
meet with such luck as that."

However, his meditations did not prevent him from keeping a close watch
over the restaurant, for it was of the utmost importance that M. Wilkie
should not escape him. It was now broad daylight, and customers were
leaving the establishment; for, after passing what is generally conceded
to be a joyous night, they felt the need of returning home to rest and
sleep. Chupin watched them as they emerged. There were some who came out
with drooping heads, mumbling incoherent phrases; while others who were
equally intoxicated, but more nervous, evinced considerable animation,
and sang snatches of songs, or jested loudly with the street-sweepers as
they passed on. The more sober, surprised by the sunlight, and blushing
at themselves, slunk hastily and quietly away. There was one man,
moreover, whom the waiters were obliged to carry to his cab, for he
could no longer stand on his feet.

At last Chupin saw the individual clad in black whom Wilkie had
addressed as Philippe, and who had endeavored to prevent him from
entering the restaurant, come out, and walk rapidly away. He was warmly
clad in a thick overcoat, but he shivered, and his pale, wan face
betrayed the man who is a martyr to the pleasures of others--the man who
is condemned to be up all night and sleep only in the daytime--the man
who can tell you how much folly and beastliness lurk in the depths of
the wine-cup, and who knows exactly how many yawns are expressed by the
verb "to amuse one's self." Chupin was beginning to feel uneasy. "Can M.
Wilkie and his friends have made their escape?" he wondered.

But at that very moment they made their appearance. They lingered awhile
on the pavement to chat, and Chupin had an opportunity of observing
the effect of their night's dissipation on their