enant-General of
Police, Messire Voyer d'Argenson. After waiting about half an hour,
during which time he impatiently examined the clock of the Samaritaine,
his glance, wandering till then, appeared to rest with satisfaction on
an individual who, coming from the Place Dauphine, turned to the right,
and advanced toward him.

The man who thus attracted the attention of the young chevalier was a
powerfully-built fellow of five feet ten, wearing, instead of a peruke,
a forest of his own black hair, slightly grizzled, dressed in a manner
half-bourgeois, half-military, ornamented with a shoulder-knot which had
once been crimson, but from exposure to sun and rain had become a dirty
orange. He was armed with a long sword slung in a belt, and which bumped
ceaselessly against the calves of his legs. Finally, he wore a hat once
furnished with a plume and lace, and which--in remembrance, no doubt, of
its past splendor--its owner had stuck so much over his left ear, that
it seemed as if only a miracle of equilibrium could keep it in its
place. There was altogether in the countenance and in the carriage and
bearing of the man (who seemed from forty to forty-five years of age,
and who advanced swaggering and keeping the middle of the road, curling
his mustache with one hand, and with the other signing to the carriages
to give place), such a character of insolent carelessness, that the
cavalier who watched him smiled involuntarily, as he murmured to
himself, "I believe this is my man."

In consequence of this probability, he walked straight up to the
new-comer, with the evident intention of speaking to him. The latter,
though he evidently did not know the cavalier, seeing that he was going
to address him, placed himself in the third position, and waited, one
hand on his sword and the other on his mustache, to hear what the person
who was coming up had to say to him. Indeed, as the man with the orange
ribbon had foreseen, the young cavalier stopped his horse by him, and
touching his hat--"Sir," said he, "I think I may conclude, from your
appearance and manner, that you are a gentleman; am I mistaken?"

"No, palsam-bleu!" replied he to whom this strange question was
addressed, touching his hat in his turn. "I am delighted that my
appearance speaks so well for me, for, however little you would think
that you were giving me my proper title, you may call me captain."

"I am enchanted that you are a soldier; it is an additional security t