Why, I was half dead with fatigue, and now I
am myself again. Be quick, booby! My hat! Time is getting on. Where is
it?"

"Where is what?" the bewildered Charlot asked.

"Why, this place," Valgrand answered irritably: "this rue Messier. Look
it up in the directory."

Valgrand stamped impatiently up and down the room while Charlot
hurriedly turned over the pages of the directory, muttering the
syllables at the top of each as he ran through them in alphabetical
order.

"J ... K ... L ... M ... Ma ... Me ...--Why, M. Valgrand----"

"What's the matter?"

"Why, it is the street where the prison is!"

"The Sante? Where Gurn is--in the condemned cell?" Valgrand cocked his
hat rakishly on one side. "And I have an assignation at the prison?"

"Not exactly, but not far off: right opposite; yes, number 22 must be
right opposite."

"Right opposite the prison!" Valgrand exclaimed gaily. "The choice of
the spot, and the desire to see me in my costume as Gurn, are evidence
of a positive refinement in sensation! See? The lady, and I--the
counterpart of Gurn--and, right opposite, the real Gurn in his cell!
Quick, man: my cloak! My cane!"

"Do think, sir," Charlot protested: "it is absolutely absurd! A man like
you----"

"A man like me," Valgrand roared, "would keep an appointment like this
if he had to walk on his head to get there! Good-night!" and carolling
gaily, Valgrand strode down the corridor.

* * * * *

Charlot was accustomed to these wild vagaries on his master's part, for
Valgrand was the most daring and inveterate rake it is possible to
imagine. But while he was tidying up the litter in the room, after
Valgrand had left him, the dresser shook his head.

"What a pity it is! And he such a great artiste! These women will make
an absolute fool of him! Why, he hasn't even taken his gloves or his
scarf!" There was a tap at the door, and the door-keeper looked in.

"Can I turn out the lights?" he enquired. "Has M. Valgrand gone?"

"Yes," said the dresser absently, "he has gone."

"A great night," said the door-keeper. "Have you seen the last edition
of the _Capitale_, the eleven o'clock edition? There's a notice of us
already. The papers don't lose any time nowadays. They say it is a great
success."

"Let's look at it," said the dresser, and, glancing through the notice,
added, "yes, that's quite true: 'M. Valgrand has achieved his finest
triumph in his last creation.'" He loo