o more sleeping under
hedges and tightening of belts. Adversity was behind him. He placed a
hand upon Scaramouche's shoulder, and surveyed him with a smile whose
oiliness not even his red paint and colossal false nose could dissemble.

"And what have you to say to me now?" he asked him. "Was I wrong when
I assured you that you would succeed? Do you think I have followed my
fortunes in the theatre for a lifetime without knowing a born actor when
I see one? You are my discovery, Scaramouche. I have discovered you
to yourself. I have set your feet upon the road to fame and fortune. I
await your thanks."

Scaramouche laughed at him, and his laugh was not altogether pleasant.

"Always Pantaloon!" said he.

The great countenance became overcast. "I see that you do not yet
forgive me the little stratagem by which I forced you to do justice to
yourself. Ungrateful dog! As if I could have had any purpose but to make
you; and I have done so. Continue as you have begun, and you will end in
Paris. You may yet tread the stage of the Comedie Francaise, the rival
of Talma, Fleury, and Dugazon. When that happens to you perhaps you will
feel the gratitude that is due to old Binet, for you will owe it all to
this soft-hearted old fool."

"If you were as good an actor on the stage as you are in private," said
Scaramouche, "you would yourself have won to the Comedie Francaise long
since. But I bear no rancour, M. Binet." He laughed, and put out his
hand.

Binet fell upon it and wrung it heartily.

"That, at least, is something," he declared. "My boy, I have great plans
for you--for us. To-morrow we go to Maure; there is a fair there to the
end of this week. Then on Monday we take our chances at Pipriac, and
after that we must consider. It may be that I am about to realize the
dream of my life. There must have been upwards of fifteen louis taken
to-night. Where the devil is that rascal Cordemais?"

Cordemais was the name of the original Scaramouche, who had so
unfortunately twisted his ankle. That Binet should refer to him by his
secular designation was a sign that in the Binet company at least he had
fallen for ever from the lofty eminence of Scaramouche.

"Let us go and find him, and then we'll away to the inn and crack a
bottle of the best Burgundy, perhaps two bottles."

But Cordemais was not readily to be found. None of the company had
seen him since the close of the performance. M. Binet went round to the
entrance. Cordema