Is he not of the precious metal all
compact? Stands he not, in the amiable ripeness of his years, a living
representative of the Golden Age? _'O bella eta dell' oro_!'"

And to my horror, he then and there executed a frantic _pas seul_.

"Gracious powers!" I exclaimed. "Are you mad?"

"Yes--raving mad. Have you any objection?"

"But, my dear fellow--in the face of day--in the streets of Paris! We
shall get taken up by the police!"

"Then suppose we get out of the streets of Paris? I'm tired enough,
Heaven knows, of cultivating the arid soil of the Pave. See, it's a
glorious afternoon. Let's go somewhere."

"With all my heart. Where?"

"_Ah, mon Dieu! ca m'est egal_. Enghien--Vincennes--St.
Cloud--Versailles ... anywhere you like. Most probably there's a fete
going on somewhere, if we only knew where,"

"Can't we find out?"

"Oh, yes--we can drop into a Cafe and look at the _Petites Affiches_;
only that entails an absinthe; or we can go into the nearest Omnibus
Bureau and see the notices on the walls, which will be cheaper."

So we threaded our way along the narrow thoroughfares of the Ile de la
Cite, and came presently to an Omnibus Bureau on the Quai de l'Horloge,
overlooking the Pont Neuf and the river. Here the first thing we saw was
a flaming placard setting forth the pleasures and attractions of the
great annual fete at Courbevoie; a village on the banks of the Seine, a
mile or two beyond Neuilly.

"_Voila, notre affaire_!" said Mueller, gaily. "We can't do better than
steer straight for Courbevoie."

Saying which, he hailed a passing fiacre and bade the coachman drive to
the Embarcadere of the Rive Droite.

"We shall amuse ourselves famously at Courbevoie," he said, as we
rattled over the stones. "We'll dine at the Toison d'Or--an excellent
little restaurant overlooking the river; and if you're fond of angling,
we can hire a punt and catch our own fish for dinner. Then there will be
plenty of fiddling and dancing at the guingettes and gardens in the
evening. By the way, though, I've no money! That is to say, none worth
speaking of--_voila!_... one franc, one piece of fifty centimes, another
of twenty centimes, and some sous. I hope your pockets are better lined
than mine."

"Not much, I fear," I replied, pulling out my porte-monnaie, and
emptying the contents into my hand. They amounted to nine francs and
seventy-five centimes.

"_Parbleu_! we've just eleven francs and a half between us," said