' sailed. It might have been two o'clock. I had eaten
nothing; I had not a cent in my pockets and I was walking along the
boulevards, loafing, and thinking how I could procure some money.

"I had crossed several streets, when a carriage stopped close to me; and
I saw a very fine gentleman step out, a cigar in his mouth, a gold
chain across his waistcoat, and a flower in his buttonhole. He entered a
glove-shop.

"At once I said to myself, 'Curious! I have seen that head somewhere.'

"Thereupon, I go to work, and remain fixed to the front of the shop, a
little at the side, though, you know, at a place where, without being
seen myself, I could very well watch my individual, who laughed and
talked, showing his white teeth, while a pretty girl was trying on
a pair of gloves. The more I looked at him, the more I thought,
'Positively, Bagnolet, although that sweet soul don't look as if he were
a member of your society, you know him.'

"However, as I could not put a name to that figure, I was going on my
way, when suddenly my memory came back to me, and I said, '_Cretonne_,
it is an old comrade. I shall get my dinner.'

"After all, I was not positively sure; because why? Fifteen years make a
difference in a man, especially when he does not particularly care to be
recognized. But I had a little way of my own to make the thing sure.

"I waited, therefore, for my man; and, at the moment when he crossed the
sidewalk to get into his carriage, I stepped up, and cried out, though
not very loud, 'Eh, Chevassat!'

"The scamp! They might have fired a cannon at his ear, and he would not
have jumped as he did when I spoke to him. And white he was,--as white
as his collar. But, nevertheless, he was not without his compass, the
screw. He puts up his eyeglass, and looks at me up and down; and then he
says in his finest manner, 'What is it, my good fellow? Do you want to
speak to me?'

"Thereupon, quite sure of my business now, I say, 'Yes, to you, Justin
Chevassat. Don't you recall me? Evariste Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet;
eh? Do you recollect now?' However, the gentleman continued to hold his
head high, and to look at me. At last he says, '_If_ you do not clear
out, I will call a policeman.' Well, the mustard got into my nose, and I
began to cry, to annoy him, so as to collect a crowd,--

"'What, what! Policemen, just call them, please do! They will take us
before a magistrate. If I am mistaken, they won't hang me; but, if I am
not