ed him away, holding him up until we reached the first bush where
I deposited him. I lay down beside him and, it seems, I fell asleep. We
must certainly have slept a long time, for it was dark when I awoke.
Boivin was snoring at my side. I shook him; he rose but he was still
drunk, though a little less so.

"We set out through the darkness across the plain. Boivin said he knew
the way. He made me turn to the left, then to the right, then to the
left. We could see neither sky nor earth, and found ourselves lost in the
midst of a kind of forest of wooden stakes, that came as high as our
noses. It was a vineyard and these were the supports. There was not a
single light on the horizon. We wandered about in this vineyard for about
an hour or two, hesitating, reaching out our arms without finding any
limit, for we kept retracing our steps.

"At length Boivin fell against a stake that tore his cheek and he
remained in a sitting posture on the ground, uttering with all his might
long and resounding hallos, while I screamed 'Help! Help!' as loud as I
could, lighting candle-matches to show the way to our rescuers, and also
to keep up my courage.

"At last a belated peasant heard us and put us on our right road. I took
Boivin to his home, but as I was leaving him on the threshold of his
garden, the door opened suddenly and his wife appeared, a candle in her
hand. She frightened me horribly.

"As soon as she saw her husband, whom she must have been waiting for
since dark, she screamed, as she darted toward me:

"'Ah, scoundrel, I knew you would bring him back drunk!'

"My, how I made my escape, running all the way to the station, and as I
thought the fury was pursuing me I shut myself in an inner room as the
train was not due for half an hour.

"That is why I never married, and why I never go out of Paris."

MOONLIGHT

Madame Julie Roubere was expecting her elder sister, Madame Henriette
Letore, who had just returned from a trip to Switzerland.

The Letore household had left nearly five weeks before. Madame Henriette
had allowed her husband to return alone to their estate in Calvados,
where some business required his attention, and had come to spend a few
days in Paris with her sister. Night came on. In the quiet parlor Madame
Roubere was reading in the twilight in an absent-minded way, raising her,
eyes whenever she heard a sound.

At last, she heard a ring at the door, and her sister appeared, wrapped
in a trav