wax tapers appeared
that striking inscription. He surveyed the room now with a more critical
eye, discovering at once that the pictures, the curtains, the carpets,
and indeed all the articles of furniture were costly and beautiful
beyond anything he had ever seen before. Evidently he was in Judge
Favart de Caumartin's house.

The moon was shining brilliantly when Coleman went forth for a short
walk in the street. Not many people were abroad, it being the
dinner-hour, but certain cafes were crowded with men and women who were
drinking champagne and discussing the dishes on well-spread tables.

At the door of one these gorgeous rooms Coleman met the young man whom a
few hours before he had seen leading the singers in the street. It
occurred to him that now was as good as any time to present his letter
to the Judge, so he forthwith stepped near him and said, lifting his
hat:

"I believe I have the honor of meeting Judge Favart de Caumartin?"

The gentleman stared at him a moment very deliberately, then, with just
a suspicion of a smile and with a courteous dignity wholly inimitable
and indescribable, doffed his queer little black cap as he spoke:

"And who does me the honor of addressing me?"

"I am Hepworth Coleman of New York?"

"Ah!"

"I hold a letter to you from Mr. Phineas Cartwright, of the firm of
Cartwright & Vanderveer, bankers."

"Indeed! I feel honored."

Coleman produced the letter and tendered it: but not without a vague
feeling of insecurity of some sort. He had not expected this peculiar
reserve and caution on the part of the Judge. Could it be that he was to
be treated as an infliction to be borne for mere policy's sake. His
distrust and doubt, however, were of short duration, for the Judge had
no sooner read the epistle, which was much longer than any mere letter
of introduction, than his whole manner changed. He held out his hand.

"I am charmed, delighted, sir," he said, with a slight creole accent
that made his voice very pleasing. "I am proud to see you. I hope you
find your rooms agreeable."

Coleman clasped his hand and felt that measure of relief which comes
when one is suddenly lifted out of a very awkward situation.

The Judge read the banker's letter over again with great deliberation
and apparently with much concentration of mind, while Coleman, who could
not remove his eyes from his fascinating dark face, stood waiting for an
opportunity to say:

"You do me infinite honor, Ju