sy, except--to be sure--" he
suddenly thought of Anatole, who still waited outside, and who came in
at the summons of his friend.

"Oh, you are with Monsieur?" The official's face brightened the moment
he saw Anatole. "It is all right, then. Give the gentleman the
certificate. This friend"--he laid the slightest stress on the
word--"will be answerable for him, of course."

"Now, Anatole, tell me what all this means," said Hyde, as he left the
Mairie with the document he deemed of so much importance in his
pocket.

"Not here," said the Frenchman, looking over his shoulder, nervously.
"Let us go somewhere out of sight."

"The nearest wine-shop--I have not breakfasted yet, have you? A bottle
of red seal would suit you, I dare say," said Hyde, remembering
Anatole's little weakness.

"It is not to be refused. I am with you, comrade. At the sign of the
'Pinched Nose' we shall find the best of everything," replied Anatole,
heartily, and the pair passed into the street.

It was barely a dozen yards to the wine-shop, and they walked there
arm-in-arm in boisterous good-fellowship, elbowing their way through
the crowd in a manner that was not exactly popular.

"Take care, imbecile!" cried one hulking fellow whom Anatole had
shouldered off the path.

"Make room, then," replied our friend, rudely.

"Would you dare--" began the other, in a menacing voice, adding some
words in a lower tone.

"Excuse. I was in the wrong," said Anatole, suddenly humbled.

"You are right to avoid a quarrel," remarked Hyde, when they were
seated at table. He had been quietly amused at his companion's easy
surrender.

"I could have eaten him raw. But why should I? He is, perhaps, a
father of a family--the support of a widowed mother: if I had
destroyed him they might have come to want. No; let him go."

"All the same, he does not seem inclined to go. There he is, still
lurking about the front of the shop."

"Truly? Where?" asked Anatole, in evident perturbation. "Bah! we will
tire him of that. By the time we have finished a second bottle--"

"Or a third, if you will!" cried Hyde, cheerfully.

They had their breakfast--the most savoury dishes; ham and sour crout,
tripe after the mode of Caen, rich ripe Roquefort cheese, and had
disposed of three bottles of a rather rough but potent red wine,
before Anatole would speak on any but the most common-place topics. The
Crimea, the dreadful winter, the punishment administered to their
common e