"Of course you bought it yesterday?"

"Oh! no, I didn't buy it, I tell you again. Ah! I see: when I left that wedding ball, I was a little excited--a little angry; I seized the first hat that came under my hand, thinking it was mine."

"Well, there's no denying that you've got a lucky hand; you haven't lost by the change."

"Oh! dear me, such mistakes occur so often at b.a.l.l.s and evening parties, that, frankly, I shall not demand mine back."

"You will make no mistake; but the man who found your hat in place of his--he may want his back."

"Very well! let him come; I am ready for him; I'll return his old tile, and give him others to boot."

"Ah! but that isn't all."

"What else is there, Widow Louchard? Can it be that I came home with two hats? I admit that that would astonish me."

"No, it isn't a hat this time; but this cane--this isn't your clothes-beater, which wasn't worth six sous."

Madame Louchard picked up a cane which lay in a corner of the room; it was a genuine rattan, with an agate head surrounded by gold rings, and cut in very peculiar fashion. She showed it to Cherami, who exclaimed in admiration:

"Oho! why, that's a beauty! A charming cane, excellent style--not too heavy; I like this sort of cameo for a head very much."

"So you got your cane the same way you did your hat, eh?"

"Pardieu! that goes without saying. It stood beside the hat. You see, I had placed my switch beside my beaver--so the joke was complete."

"Well, you're mighty lucky in your mistakes; that's sure. This cane must have cost a lot of money."

"Oh! I have seen much finer ones than this, in the old days. What the devil are you looking for on the floor and on the furniture, Madame Louchard?"

"_Dame!_ I'm looking to see if you haven't brought something else home, by mistake."

Cherami instantly sat up in bed, crying:

"Thunder of Jupiter! Widow Louchard, what do you take me for, I'd like to know? Do you think I'm a thief, a pickpocket? I had a hat and a cane, and on leaving a ball I took a hat and a cane. They're not the ones that belong to me; I made a mistake, I was in error, and that may happen to anybody--_errare humanum est_, do you understand? No, you don't understand; never mind. But to carry away anything to which I have no right--fie! for shame!--To prove that I wouldn't do such a thing--I found a glove, and I returned it. Let me tell you, madame, that a man may be without money, have debts, borrow and not pay, and even play cards on his word--for if I had lost last night, I shouldn't have been able to pay on the spot; but all those things don't prevent one's being an honest man."

"Mon Dieu! Monsieur Cherami, I don't say they do; you go off all of a sudden, like a spitfire!"

"Last night, I confess, I had dined very well. I wasn't drunk; I never get drunk; I was simply a little confused, which fully explains all these mistakes; and now, I feel as if I could take something."

"Would you like to have me make you a nice onion soup, while you're getting up? There's nothing that'll set you up better, the day after a spree."

"Onion soup! I do not disdain that dish; but I am tempted to look higher, and I believe that a good chicken---- But what's all that noise?

I should say that a carriage was stopping in front of the hotel! Go and look, my dear hostess."

Madame Louchard went to the window.

"Yes, it is," she said; "a handsome private cabriolet, with a fine dapple-gray horse, and a groom in livery! And there's a young dandy getting out; he's looking at the house; he's coming in; it must be for me."

"For you? Oh! no, it's for me, by all the devils! It must be that young husband, and here am I still in bed! I must dress at the double-quick."

Cherami jumped out of his bed, in his nightshirt; whereupon Madame Louchard instantly took flight, crying:

"I don't like this sort of thing, Monsieur Cherami; I told you not to get up before me. And a man who don't wear drawers, too!"

"Aha! my dear hostess, it would seem that you risked a glance! Oh! these women! they are all descended from Lot's wife! It's a pity that they're not changed into salt nowadays at every indiscretion; that would make a handsome reduction in the price of that product!"

XVIII

A DUEL WITHOUT WITNESSES

It was, in fact, Monsieur Monleard who had alighted from the cabriolet, and, having scrutinized the exterior of the furnished lodging-house, had ventured into the rather gloomy hall of that establishment. There he looked in vain for the concierge; but the proprietor often served in that capacity, and it was she herself who hastily descended the stairs.

"Do you know a certain Monsieur Cherami in this house, madame?"

"Yes, monsieur; indeed I know him, as he's my tenant."

"Ah! very good. Would you kindly direct me to his room?"

"Second floor, second door on the right."

"Do you think that I shall find him?"

"Certainly, monsieur; for I just left him, and he was just going to get up."

"Thanks! Pardon me, madame; a word or two more, if you please."

"As many as you want, monsieur; I'm in no hurry."

"I would be glad, madame, to obtain some information about this gentleman: to know who he is, and what he does."

"Mon Dieu! it won't take long to tell you; he don't do anything, he lives on his income; he's a man who used to be very rich, and who did as so many others do--ran through his fortune with fast women; now, he's on his uppers; for I guess the income isn't very heavy!"

"Exceedingly obliged, madame."

Monleard left Madame Louchard, and went up to Cherami's room. That worthy was dressing behind his screen; but as it barely reached his shoulders, he was perfectly able to see anybody who came in, and could converse over the leaves of the article of furniture which encompa.s.sed him.

"Monsieur Arthur Cherami?" said the fashionably dressed young man as he entered.

"Present! here I am, monsieur. A thousand pardons for not being dressed; but it will take me only a minute. Pray be kind enough to take a seat while you wait."

"Thanks, I am not tired."

"Then, remain standing. You may do as you please.--Where the devil did I put my false collar?"