d that he
would not only order it, but eat it and preside at it with all the
gayety and audacity in life.

Then would come the horrible retribution of the bill!

I felt myself turn red and hot at the mere thought of it.

Then a dastardly idea insinuated itself into my mind. I had my
return-ticket in my waistcoat-pocket:--what if I slipped away presently
to the station and went back to Paris by the next train, leaving my
clever friend to improvise his way out of his own scrape as best
he could?

In the meanwhile, as I was rowing with the stream, we soon got back to
Courbevoie.

"_Are_ you mad?" I said, as, having landed the ladies, Mueller and I
delivered up the boat to its owner.

"Didn't I admit it, two or three hours ago?" he replied. "I wonder you
don't get tired, _mon cher_, of asking the same question so often."

"Four francs, fifty centimes, Messieurs," said the boatman, having made
fast his boat to the landing-place.

"Four francs, fifty centimes!" I echoed, in dismay.

Even Mueller looked aghast.

"My good fellow," he said, "do you take us for coiners?"

"Hire of boat, two francs the hour. These gentlemen have been out
nearly one hour and a half--three francs. Hire of bait and
fishing-tackle, one franc fifty. Total, four francs and a half," replied
the boatman, putting out a great brown palm.

Mueller, who was acting as cashier and paymaster, pulled out his purse,
deposited one solitary half-franc in the middle of that brown palm, and
suggested that the boatman and he should toss up for the remaining four
francs--or race for them--or play for them--or fight for them. The
boatman, however, indignantly rejected each successive proposal, and,
being paid at last, retired with a _decrescendo_ of oaths.

"_Tiens_!" said Mueller, reflectively. "We have but one franc left. One
franc, two sous, and a centime. _Vive la France!_"

"And you have actually asked that wretched old woman and her niece to
dinner!"

"And I have actually solicited that excellent and admirable woman,
Madame Marotte, relict of the late lamented Jacques Marotte, umbrella
maker, of number one hundred and two, Rue du Faubourg St. Denis, and her
beautiful and accomplished niece, Mademoiselle Marie Charpentier, to
honor us with their company this evening. _Dis-donc,_ what shall we give
them for dinner?"

"Precisely what you invited them to, I should guess--the fish we caught
this afternoon."

"Agreed. And what else?"

"Say--a dis