nemy, occupied him exclusively.

But with the fourth bottle he became more communicative.

"You owe a long candle to your saint for your luck to-day in meeting
me," he said, with a slight hiccup.

"Ah! how so?"

"Had not I been there to give you protection you would now be under
lock and key in the depot of the Prefecture."

Hyde, in spite of himself, shuddered as he thought of his last
detention in that unsavoury prison.

"What, then, have you done, my English friend?" went on Anatole, with
drunken solemnity. "Why should the police seek your arrest?"

"But do they? I cannot believe it."

"It is as I tell you. I myself am in the 'cuisine' (the Prefecture).
Since my return from the war my illustrious services have been
rewarded by an appointment of great trust."

"In other words, you are now a police-agent, and you were set to watch
for some one like me."

"Why not you?" asked Anatole, trying, but in vain, to fix him with his
watery eyes. "In any case," he went on, "I wish to serve a comrade--at
risk to myself, perhaps."

"You shall not suffer for it, never fear, in the long run. Count
always upon me."

"They may say that I have betrayed my trust; that I put friendship
before duty. That has always been my error; I have too soft a heart."

Anatole now began to cry with emotion at his own chivalrous
self-sacrifice, which changed quickly into bravado as he cried,
striking the table noisily--

"Who cares? I would save you from the Prefect himself."

At this moment the big man who had been watching at the window
returned, accompanied by two others. He walked straight towards the
door of the wine-shop.

"_Sacre bleu! le patron_ (chief). You are lost! Quick! take me by the
throat."

Hyde jumped to his feet and promptly obeyed the curious command.

"Now struggle; throw me to the ground, bolt through the back door,"
whispered Anatole, hastily.

All which Hyde executed promptly and punctiliously. Anatole suffered
him to do as he pleased, and Hyde escaped through the back entrance
just as the other policemen rushed in at the front.

"After him! Run! Fifty francs to whoever stops him!"

But Hyde had the heels of them. He ran out and through a little
courtyard at the back communicating with the street. There he found a
_fiacre_, into which he jumped, shouting to the cabman--

"Drive on straight ahead! A napoleon for yourself."

In this way he distanced his pursuers, and half-an-hour later regained
his h