ight!"

He had gone on raising his voice at every phrase, for all the while the
landlord was very placidly retiring; and now, when the last glimmer of
light had vanished from the arch, and the last footstep died away in the
interior, Leon turned to his wife with a heroic countenance.

"Elvira," said he, "I have now a duty in life. I shall destroy that man
as Eugene Sue destroyed the concierge. Let us come at once to the
Gendarmerie and begin our vengeance."

He picked up the guitar-case, which had been propped against the wall,
and they set forth through the silent and ill-lighted town with burning
hearts.

The Gendarmerie was concealed beside the telegraph-office at the bottom
of a vast court, which was partly laid out in gardens; and here all the
shepherds of the public lay locked in grateful sleep. It took a deal of
knocking to waken one; and he, when he came at last to the door, could
find no other remark but that "it was none of his business." Leon
reasoned with him, threatened him, besought him; "here," he said, "was
Madame Berthelini in evening dress--a delicate woman--in an interesting
condition"--the last was thrown in, I fancy, for effect; and to all this
the man-at-arms made the same answer--

"It is none of my business," said he.

"Very well," said Leon, "then we shall go to the Commissary." Thither
they went; the office was closed and dark; but the house was close by,
and Leon was soon swinging the bell like a madman. The Commissary's wife
appeared at the window. She was a thread-paper creature, and informed
them that the Commissary had not yet come home.

"Is he at the Maire's?" demanded Leon.

She thought that was not unlikely.

"Where is the Maire's house?" he asked.

And she gave him some rather vague information on that point.

"Stay you here, Elvira," said Leon, "lest I should miss him by the way.
If, when I return, I find you here no longer, I shall follow at once to
the Black Head."

And he set out to find the Maire's. It took him some ten minutes'
wandering among blind lanes, and when he arrived it was already half an
hour past midnight. A long white garden wall overhung by some thick
chestnuts, a door with a letter-box, and an iron bell-pull--that was all
that could be seen of the Maire's domicile. Leon took the bell-pull in
both hands, and danced furiously upon the side-walk. The bell itself was
just upon the other side of the wall; it responded to his activity, and
scattered an al