ound it and, text in hand, began a long account of the action, with
names, dates, moments of excitement, and many quotations in extenso.

"Yes, my young friend, two hundred and eighteen thousand francs did I
win in that action for Monsieur Prebois, of Bourges; you know Prebois,
the manufacturer?"

"By name."

At last he put the note-book back on its shelf, and deigned to remember
that I had come about the Junian Latins.

"In which of the authorities do you find a difficulty?"

"My difficulty lies in the want of authorities, sir, I wish to find out
whether the Junian Latins had not a special dress."

"To be sure." He scratched his head. "Gaius says nothing on the point?"

"No."

"Papinian?"

"No."

"Justinian?"

"No."

"Then I see only one resource."

"What is that?"

"Go to see Charnot."

I felt myself growing pale, and stammered, with a piteous look:

"Monsieur Charnot, of the Acad--"

"The Academy of Inscriptions; an intimate friend of mine, who will
welcome you like a son, for he has none himself, poor man!"

"But perhaps the question is hardly important enough for me to trouble
him like this--"

"Hey? Not important enough? All new questions are important. Charnot
specializes on coins. Coins and costumes are all one. I will write to
tell him you are coming."

"I beg, sir--"

"Nonsense; Nonsense; I'll write him this very evening. He will be
delighted to see you. I know him well, you understand. He is like me; he
likes industrious young men."

M. Flamaran held out his hand.

"Good-by, young man. Marry as soon as you have taken your degree."

I did not recover from the shock till I was halfway across the
Luxembourg Gardens, near the Tennis Court, when I sat down, overcome.
See what comes of enthusiasm and going to call on your tutor! Ah, young
three-and-twenty, when will you learn wisdom?

CHAPTER III. AN APOLOGY

9 P.M.

I have made up my mind. I shall go to see M. Charnot. But before that
I shall go to his publisher's and find out something about this famous
man's works, of which I know nothing whatever.

December 31st

He lives in the Rue de l'Universite.

I have called. I have seen him. I owe this to an accident, to the
servant's forgetting her orders.

As I entered, on the stroke of five, he was spinning a spiral twist of
paper beneath the lamplight to amuse his daughter--he a member of the
Institute, she a girl o