orst catastrophe that can overtake you
is to be back in the market-halls of the country villages from which I
rescued you. I'll have you in Paris yet in spite of yourself. Leave this
to me."

And he went out to attend to the printing. Nor did his preparations
end there. He wrote a piquant article on the glories of the Comedie de
l'Art, and its resurrection by the improvising troupe of the great mime
Florimond Binet. Binet's name was not Florimond; it was just Pierre.
But Andre-Louis had a great sense of the theatre. That article was an
amplification of the stimulating matter contained in the playbills;
and he persuaded Basque, who had relations in Nantes, to use all the
influence he could command, and all the bribery they could afford, to
get that article printed in the "Courrier Nantais" a couple of days
before the arrival of the Binet Troupe.

Basque had succeeded, and, considering the undoubted literary merits and
intrinsic interest of the article, this is not at all surprising.

And so it was upon an already expectant city that Binet and his company
descended in that first week of February. M. Binet would have made his
entrance in the usual manner--a full-dress parade with banging drums and
crashing cymbals. But to this Andre-Louis offered the most relentless
opposition.

"We should but discover our poverty," said he. "Instead, we will creep
into the city unobserved, and leave ourselves to the imagination of the
public."

He had his way, of course. M. Binet, worn already with battling against
the strong waters of this young man's will, was altogether unequal to
the contest now that he found Climene in alliance with Scaramouche,
adding her insistence to his, and joining with him in reprobation of her
father's sluggish and reactionary wits. Metaphorically, M. Binet threw
up his arms, and cursing the day on which he had taken this young man
into his troupe, he allowed the current to carry him whither it would.
He was persuaded that he would be drowned in the end. Meanwhile he
would drown his vexation in Burgundy. At least there was abundance of
Burgundy. Never in his life had he found Burgundy so plentiful. Perhaps
things were not as bad as he imagined, after all. He reflected that,
when all was said, he had to thank Scaramouche for the Burgundy. Whilst
fearing the worst, he would hope for the best.

And it was very much the worst that he feared as he waited in the wings
when the curtain rose on that first perfo