ill bring you
some books to the 'Falcon,' and if you find that you have lost you shall
pay me my louis." I promised to carry out his directions, and we parted.

I was curious to see what would happen, though I by no means regarded it
as an impossibility; and on my presenting myself at eight o'clock, the
maid let me in as soon as I said that I could wait. I found a corner of
the glass door before which there was no curtain, and on applying my eye
to the place I saw my young adventurer holding his conquest in his arms
on the bed. An enormous nightcap entirely concealed her face--an
excellent precaution which favoured the bookseller's enterprise.

When the rascal saw that I had taken up my position, he did not keep me
waiting, for, getting up, he presented to my dazzled gaze, not only the
secret treasures of his sweetheart, but his own also. He was a small man,
but where the lady was most concerned he was a Hercules, and the rogue
seemed to make a parade of his proportions as if to excite my jealousy.
He turned his victim round so that I should see her under all aspects,
and treated her manfully, while she appeared to respond to his ardour
with all her might. Phidias could not have modelled his Venus on a finer
body; her form was rounded and voluptuous, and as white as Parian marble.
I was affected in a lively manner by the spectacle, and re-entered my
lodging so inflamed that if my dear Dubois had not been at hand to quench
my fire I should have been obliged to have extinguished it in the baths
of La Mata.

When I had told her my tale she wanted to know the hero of it, and at
noon she had that pleasure. The young bookseller brought me some books I
had ordered, and while paying him for them I gave him our bet and a Louis
over and above as a mark of my satisfaction at his prowess. He took it
with a smile which seemed to shew that he thought I ought to think myself
lucky to have lost. My housekeeper looked at him for some time, and asked
if he knew her; he said he did not.

"I saw you when you were a child," said she. "You are the son of M.
Mignard, minister of the Gospel. You must have been ten when I saw you."

"Possibly, madam."

"You did not care to follow your father's profession, then?"

"No madam, I feel much more inclined to the worship of the creature than
to that of the Creator, and I did not think my father's profession would
suit me."

"You are right, for a minister of the Gospel ought to be discreet, and