der my very nose. "Contrary to all the laws of _bon-camaraderie_, you
stole away last night, leaving your unprotected friend in the hands of
the enemy. And for what?--for the sake of a few hours' ignominious
oblivion! Look at me--I have not been to bed all night, and I am as
lively as a lobster in a lobster-pot."

"How did you get home?" I asked, rubbing my eyes; "and when?"

"I have not got home at all yet," replied my visitor. "I have come to
breakfast with you first."

Just at this moment, the _pendule_ in the adjoining room struck six.

"To breakfast!" I repeated. "At this hour?--you who never breakfast
before midday!"

"True, _mon cher_; but then you see there are reasons. In the first
place, we danced a little too long, and missed the last train, so I was
obliged to bring the dear creatures back to Paris in a fiacre. In the
second place, the driver was drunk, and the horse was groggy, and the
fiacre was in the last stage of dilapidation. The powers below only know
how many hours we were on the road; for we all fell asleep, driver
included, and never woke till we found ourselves at the Barriere de
l'Etoile at the dawn of day."

"Then what have you done with Madame Marotte and Mademoiselle Marie?"

"Deposited them at their own door in the Rue du Faubourg St. Denis, as
was the bounden duty of a _preux chevalier_. But then, _mon cher_, I had
no money; and having no money, I couldn't pay for the fiacre; so I drove
on here--and here I am--and number One Thousand and Eleven is now at the
door, waiting to be paid."

"The deuce he is!"

"So you see, sad as it was to disturb the slumbers of innocence, I
couldn't possibly let you go on sleeping at the rate of two francs
an hour."

"And what is the rate at which you have waked me?"

"Sixteen francs the fare, and something for the driver--say twenty in
all."

"Then, my dear fellow, just open my desk and take one of the two
Napoleons you will see lying inside, and dismiss number One Thousand and
Eleven without loss of time; and then...."

"A thousand thanks! And then what?"

"Will you accept a word of sound advice?"

"Depends on whether it's pleasant to follow, _caro mio_"

"Go home; get three or four hours' rest; and meet me in the Palais Royal
about twelve for breakfast."

"In order that you may turn round and go to sleep again in comfort? No,
young man, I will do nothing of the kind. You shall get up, instead, and
we'll go down to Molino's."

"To Moli