leave here; and, if
you have no particular reason for remaining--"

"None; I know no one."

"_Allons_, then," said he, gayly, taking my arm. And I soon found myself
descending the marble stairs beside the man I had expected to stand
opposed to in deadly conflict a few hours later.

CHAPTER XXV. THE SUPPER AT "BEAUVILLIERS'S"

"Where to?," asked the coachman, as we entered the _caleche_.

"Beauvilliers," said the marquis, throwing himself back in his seat, and
remaining for some minutes silent.

At last, as if suddenly recollecting that we were strangers to each
other, he said, "You know Beauvilliers, of course?"

"No," replied I, with hesitation; "I really have not any acquaintance."

"Parbleu," said he, laughing, "you ought at least to have his
friendship. He is the most celebrated restaurateur of this or any
other age; no one has carried the great art of the cuisine to a higher
perfection, and his cellars are unequalled in Paris. But you shall
pronounce for yourself."

"Unhappily my judgment is of little value. Do you forget that the diet
roll of the Polytechnique is a bad school for gastronomy?"

"But a glorious preparation for it," interrupted he. "How delightful
must be the enjoyment to the unsophisticated palate of those first
impressions which a _carpe a la Chambord_, a pheasant _truffe_, a dish
of _ortolans a la Provengale_, inspire! But here we are. Our party is
a small one,--an old prefet of the South, an abbe, a secretary of the
Russian embassy, and ourselves."

This information he gave me as we mounted a narrow and winding stair,
dimly lighted by a single lamp. On reaching the landing, however, a
waiter stood in readiness to usher us into a small apartment decorated
with all the luxury of gold and plate glass, so profusely employed in
the interior of all cafes. The guests already mentioned were there, and
evidently awaiting our arrival with no small impatience.

"As usual, Henri," said the old man, whom I guessed to be the
prefet,--"as usual, an hour behind your appointment."

"Forgive him. Monsieur," said abbe, with a simper. "The fascinations of
a Court--"

The grimace the old man made at this last word threw the whole party
into a roar of laughter, which only ceased by the marquis presenting me
in all form to each of his friends.

"A table, a table, for Heaven's sake!" cried the prefet, ringing the
bell, and bustling about the room with a fidgety impatience.

This was, however, unn