"Oh! what an unlucky devil!"--And Raymond rushed back into the silhouette booth, despite the remonstrances of the proprietor, who seized him by the coat and tried to put him out.

"Save me, neighbor, I have no hope except in you!"

"Very well, I'll do it; although you played me a most contemptible trick last night."

"Oh! I promise you--I swear--it was mere chance. I will contradict all that I said, if that will gratify you; I will say that the girl slept with me."

"No, no; if you please, Monsieur Raymond, you will be careful never to mention her.--But let us begin by leaving this silhouette emporium.

Follow me."

"I am with you, my dear neighbor.--Give me my portraits; how much are they?"

"Seventeen, at forty sous, makes just thirty-four francs, monsieur."

"The devil! that's rather dear!"

"It's the regular price."

"Come, come," I said to Raymond, whose lugubrious face was not worth thirty-four francs at that moment; "you can make a lot of your friends happy with them; that's some little compensation."

Raymond paid, with a sigh, and seized my arm, imploring me to protect him.

"I ask nothing better," said I; "but you must appreciate the fact that I can't stand my ground alone against half a hundred young men who are waiting for you at the gate, and are to all appearance determined to make it bad for you."

"Yes, yes, I can see that; but I can't pa.s.s the night here; I have no hat, and I should certainly take cold; and to-morrow night I am to sing the aria from _Joconde_ at a musical party."

"This is very embarra.s.sing. Do you want to risk going out at the gate?"

"No, indeed! These young men, when they get excited, are very brutal."

"I see but one way, then, and that is to climb over the wall."

"But suppose I am taken for a thief?"

"Never fear; I have a scheme in my head. Come!"

We took the darkest paths. Raymond followed me in fear and trembling. I led him to the wall on Rue de Clichy, and bade him sit on the ground behind a clump of trees.

"Stay here; I'll go out of the gate and come around to the opposite side of the wall on Rue de Clichy. When there seems to be an opportune moment for you to climb over without risk, I will give the signal."

"What signal?"

"I will clap my hands twice."

"Agreed. The wall's rather high; but still, rather than be beaten to a jelly--I can't hesitate."

"Adieu! patience; don't make a noise, don't stir, but wait for the signal."

"Oh! I won't fail. You couldn't lend me your hat, could you?"

"Impossible; I have to sing in a duet to-morrow."

"Then I'll put my handkerchief over my head."

"That will be very wise."

"By the way, if they question you at the gate, you must say that I've gone."

"That goes without saying."

"Don't leave me too long."

"Of course, I shan't suggest your showing yourself while I see anybody prowling about."

"Dear Dorsan! I am tremendously obliged to you."

"Adieu! I go to keep watch for you."

I took my leave of Raymond, laughing inwardly at his plight and his poltroonery. At last I left the garden; it was high time, for they were just going to close the gates. As I pa.s.sed, I glanced down Rue de Clichy, where my neighbor supposed that I was doing sentry duty in his behalf; and I strolled leisurely homeward, leaving dear Raymond to wait for my signal. His conduct of the preceding evening merited that little retaliation; moreover, the most speedy revenge is always the best.

XI

BY MOONLIGHT

I pursued my homeward way, congratulating myself on my little game, and laughing at the thought of Raymond's fright and of the figure he must cut waiting for me to rescue him. But soon my mind reverted to a more agreeable subject. I thought of the charming Caroline. I had no doubt that she had read my note, and on the morrow I would go to her shop and find out how far I might hope. A not very moral scheme, I agree! I proposed to try to seduce a girl, in order to gratify a caprice that would last only a moment. But what would you have? I have some grievous faults; I believe that unmarried men were put into the world to make love to girls. Those girls who desire to remain virtuous should do as Nicette did--refuse to allow themselves to be seduced.

Musing thus, I reached my abode. It had seemed a short walk to me. To be sure, the weather was magnificent; the moon was quite as fine as on the preceding night; but my thoughts were not upon the firmament. I was on the point of knocking, when a person who was sitting on the bench near the porte cochere rose quickly and came toward me.

"Ah! here you are, Monsieur Dorsan; I was waiting for you."

I recognized my little flower girl, whom the sight of Mademoiselle Caroline had banished from my memory. She had not forgotten me; she was waiting for me in the street! and it was nearly twelve o'clock!

"How long have you been here, Nicette?"

"Since nine o'clock, monsieur."

"Why did you wait so long for me?"

"Oh! monsieur, please forgive me, but I couldn't stand it; I wanted to thank you again, and tell you what I have done with my money."

"My dear girl, that wasn't necessary; I am sure that you are behaving as you ought."

"Don't you like it because I waited for you, monsieur? If you don't, I'll go away----"