l, as little sympathetic as Sarah, a girl who
always has a cold in her head, and who has already deceived you.'
'Deceived me!' cried La Brede, waving his long arms. 'Deceived me! and
with whom?'--'With me.' As he knew I never lied, he panted for my life.
Luckily my life is a tough one."

"You put him in bed for three months, I hear."

"Almost as long as that, yes. And now, my friend, do me a service. I am a
bear, a savage, a ghost! Assist me to return to life. Let us go and sup
with some sprightly people whose virtue is extraordinary."

"Agreed! That is recommended by my physician."

"From Cairo? Nothing could be better, my Prince."

Half an hour later Louis de Camors, the Prince d'Errol, and a half-dozen
guests of both sexes, took possession of an apartment, the closed doors
of which we must respect.

Next morning, at gray dawn, the party was about to disperse; and at the
moment a ragpicker, with a gray beard, was wandering up and down before
the restaurant, raking with his hook in the refuse that awaited the
public sweepers. In closing his purse, with an unsteady hand, Camors let
fall a shining louis d'or, which rolled into the mud on the sidewalk. The
ragpicker looked up with a timid smile.

"Ah! Monsieur," he said, "what falls into the trench should belong to the
soldier."

"Pick it up with your teeth, then," answered Camors, laughing, "and it is
yours."

The man hesitated, flushed under his sunburned cheeks, and threw a look
of deadly hatred upon the laughing group round him. Then he knelt, buried
his chest in the mire, and sprang up next moment with the coin clenched
between his sharp white teeth. The spectators applauded. The chiffonnier
smiled a dark smile, and turned away.

"Hello, my friend!" cried Camors, touching his arm, "would you like to
earn five Louis? If so, give me a knock-down blow. That will give you
pleasure and do me good."

The man turned, looked him steadily in the eye, then suddenly dealt him
such a blow in the face that he reeled against the opposite wall. The
young men standing by made a movement to fall upon the graybeard.

"Let no one harm him!" cried Camors. "Here, my man, are your hundred
francs."

"Keep them," replied the other, "I am paid;" and walked away.

"Bravo, Belisarius!" laughed Camors. "Faith, gentlemen, I do not know
whether you agree with me, but I am really charmed with this little
episode. I must go dream upon it. By-bye, young ladies! Good-day,
Prince!"