to give his 'cousin' the slip, havin' got sick
of her, Stumps he went along. That's a matter of ten years ago, sir,
and blessed if I've laid eyes on him since until I seed him here in New
York to-day. Uncle died better'n two year back, aunt havin' died fust,
and he left a tidy pot of money to Stumps; and I did hear that Stumps,
who'd been barberin' in Paris, had giv' up work when he got the cash
and had set up to be a gentleman, but I didn't know as he'd set up to
be a count too. The like of this I never did see!"

"And you are then sure, you will swear, my good Stump, that this are
the same man?"

"Swear, sir! I'll swear to it 'igh and low and all day long! But I must
be goin', sir. You will please to remember that the hoss will be ready
for you at ten o'clock to-morrow mornin', sharp."

Jaune rushed down to Vandyke Brown's studio for counsel as to whether
he should go at once to the Count's lodgings and charge him with fraud
to his face, or should make the charge first to Madame Carthame. But
Brown was out. Nor was he in old Madder's studio, though about this
time he was much more likely to be there than in his own. Old Madder
said that Brown had taken Rose over to Brooklyn, to the Philharmonic,
and he believed that they were going to dinner at Mr. Mangan Brown's
afterward, and would not be in till late; and he seemed to be pretty
grumpy about it.

Jaune fumed and fretted away what was left of the afternoon and a good
part of the evening. At last Brown and Rose came home, and Brown, with
a very bad grace, suffered himself to be led away from old Madder's
threshold. To do him justice, though, when he had heard the story that
Jaune had to tell, he was all eagerness. His advice was to make the
attack instantly; and without more words they set off together, walking
briskly through the chill air of the late October night.

As they were passing along Macdougal Street--midway between Bleecker
and Houston, in front of the row of pretty houses with verandas all
over their fronts--Jaune suddenly gripped Brown's arm and drew him
quickly within one of the little front yards and into the shadow of the
high iron steps.

"Look!" he said.

On the other side of the street, in the light of the gas-lamp that
stands in the centre of the block, was the Count himself. For the
moment that he was beneath the gas-lamp they saw him clearly. His face
was set in an expression of gloomy sternness; his rapid, resolute walk
indicated a def