," some pats of butter and a jar of honey. She
placed the tray upon the table, greeted the travellers with the
brightest of smiles, and then, as she flitted about attending to their
wants, M. Brisson retired to his bureau to put the finishing touches to
the bill.

This was a weighty business. It was not often that the little Hotel du
Nord had the privilege of entertaining guests from America, and M.
Brisson was thriftily determined to make the most of it. The price of
the room, unfortunately, had been agreed upon in advance; but there were
the meals and, above all, the extras--baggage, lights, attendance, one
special breakfast at five o'clock--one must be paid for rising in the
middle of the night!--confitures, bath--had there been a bath? No
matter! Wine, cigars--M. Brisson licked his lips as he put them all in.
Then he made a mistake of five francs in the addition, and the thing was
done. He contemplated it for a moment with satisfaction, then folded it,
slipped it into his pocket, and returned to the breakfast-room.

His guests were just rising from the table, and a glance told him that
they had done but scant justice to the meal--fully half the rolls
remained uneaten! They were in haste, then; so much the better! He
assisted them to adjust their knapsacks.

"And now the bill," said one of them, taking out his purse.

M. Brisson presented it with a bow. The other took it, glanced at the
total, and his face flushed. He opened his lips to speak, closed them
again, and his eyes ran up the column of figures. The flush deepened,
and again he opened his lips; but when he met Brisson's ferret-like
gaze, he again closed them. Without a word, he extracted from his purse
a note for a hundred francs and placed it in Brisson's hand.

"You may keep the change," he said.

"Oh, thanks, sir!" Brisson cried, and he bowed again to hide the
triumphant smile upon his lips. "Many thanks! A pleasant journey! And
when you come again to Toulon, remember the Hotel du Nord!"

The other nodded glumly, and started for the door, followed by his
companion. Brisson and his wife accompanied them, again bade them adieu,
and stood for a moment watching them, as they went down the street in
the direction of the quays.

"A hundred francs!" said Madame Brisson, and gazed with veneration at
her lord and master. "But what was your bill, then, Aristide?"

"Ninety-six francs," said Brisson, sourly, "and, for a moment, I thought
the swine was going