e
permitted, I set out for the Rue Quincampoix, and soon found the house,
which was a large and spacious though somewhat sombre-looking hotel,
with a half-effaced shield over the doorway. The porter inquired if I
came on business; and on my saying "Yes," informed me that I must
call on the following morning, from eleven to two o'clock,--that the
"batonnier," for such was his rank, did not transact affairs in the
evening.

I argued and pressed my suit with all zeal; but it was only when I
produced a piece of two francs that he consented to present my card, on
which I had written a few lines to explain the urgent cause of my visit.

After a long and most impatient waiting a servant came to Bay that
monsieur would receive me, and I followed him up a spacious but dimly
lighted stair, and across a long dreary gallery, where a single lamp
shone, into a small chamber fitted up like a study. Here, although it
was autumn, the "batonnier" was seated beside a brisk fire, enjoying
his coffee. He was a small man, with a massive, well-shaped head covered
with a profusion of snow-white hair, which he wore in such careless
fashion as to make his head appear even much larger than it was;
his features were pleasing, and his eyes were singularly soft and
gentle-looking. With a voice of peculiar sweetness, and in a low tone,
he welcomed me and desired me to be seated. This done, he begged me to
state the object of my visit.

In the very fewest words I could relate it, I mentioned the sad
circumstances about which I came, told my own difficulty in the matter,
and asked for advice.

"At any other moment," said he, when I concluded, "your task would be
an easy one. You could report the event to the 'commissaire' of the
'Quarter,' state what you know, and withdraw from the affair altogether.
Now, however, the troubles in which we live excite suspicions in every
mind. Your name will be associated with the opinions for which this poor
man has given his life. The authorities will be on your track at every
moment, and every act of your life watched and reported. With whom were
you acquainted in Paris?"

"With none."

He stared with some surprise; and I told him briefly the circumstances
of my own situation.

"A strange story indeed!" said he, taking up my card from the
chimney-piece. "And your name, for I cannot decipher it here, is--"

"Carew,--Jasper Carew."

"That name is Irish, if I mistake not," said he; "at least I remember,
som