g the mistake, when a
secret impulse restrained the disavowal. The person who addressed him
was a slight young man, fashionably dressed, with no other disguise
than a half-mask of black velvet, which did not conceal his light
hair.

"I perceive you know me," said Lacour, favoring the mistake; "though
you have the advantage of me. I cannot possibly conjecture whom I am
addressing."

The masked laughed lightly.

"Perhaps it would be of no use for me to unmask," was the reply; "but
if I tell you I have something of importance to communicate to
you--something in reference to your application to the emperor for
preferment, you may be disposed to listen to me."

"With all my heart."

"I see you are tired of this noisy scene," said the mask, "and so in
faith am I. Besides, this is no place to talk of business. What say
you to a moonlight walk to my lodgings, in the Rue Montmartre? There
we can discuss our affairs over a glass of champagne."

"I will willingly accompany you," said Lacour, "if you will give me a
few minutes to speak to a friend, with whom I had a previous
appointment."

"Make haste, then," said the mask; "you will find me here for fifteen
minutes."

Lacour hastened to the nearest post, and made himself known to the
commandant.

"Quick!" said he, "I want a sergeant and a dozen _gens d'armes_. In
fifteen minutes I shall leave the opera house, in company with a young
man, for the Rue Montmartre. Let the squad follow us without appearing
to do so. Keep in the shadow of the houses. We shall enter a house. As
soon as the door has closed, demand instant admittance of the porter.
Let the sergeant follow hard upon my heels, and wait outside the door
of whatever room I enter. At a call from me, let him be ready to burst
in and secure the person with whom I am in company."

As soon as he had given these directions, the police officer hastened
back to the opera house, where the mask was still awaiting him. Arm in
arm they left the hall, and chatting familiarly, entered the Rue
Montmartre, and soon arrived at an old house of seven stories, to
which they were admitted by the porter. Lacour's heart beat as he
accompanied his guide, in the dark, up three pairs of stairs--but
before he had reached the head of the third flight, he heard the
street door open and shut below, and knew that the sergeant had obeyed
his directions, and that help was at hand in case his suspicions
proved true.

The mask opened the door