habit, my nature, to appear to bear, to listen, to
dally, and then at once to rise and snap all
hindrances, and plunge away into freedom. M.
Rouget thought he had in me a patient, on whom
he was daily to rub in liniments of old law, for
any length of time; but imagine his astonishment
when, on the tenth morning, I announced
my resolution to set off by the eleven o'clock A.M.
train, that very day, to Bar-le-Duc, and there
confront our enemy, the lawyer who had given
us so much trouble.

"I advise you not, I advise you not, Monsieur
Hudson," said M. Rouget. " You are impetuous,
he is a fox; you will make nothing of him; you
will lose a valuable day, which I had intended,
to devote to the topography of the Latouche
property in the thirteenth century, tracing it
downward to the present hour."

Anything, even a fight with M. Gouffet, was
better than that, so off I went, leaving the
thirteenth century entirely at the disposal of M.
Rouget.

I found M. Gouffet, a benevolent- looking
cheery person, with white hair and a red face.
He was all submission, all politeness, all conciliation
— until at last I drove him into a corner,
and slightly punctured him with the needle of
logic; then, he arose a devil— a devil wrapped in
flames— he seemed not to speak to me, but to
spit at me; he defied me, he threatened to beggar
Madlle. L'Espinasse, and all who aided her. He
paraded before me all the flaws in the legal ropes
by which old M. Latouche had hoped to bind his
estate together.

A lawyer never strikes. I bowed, I smiled—
which made him flame out again— put on my
hat, and took my leave. I got back to Châlons
in time for the table d'hote. I found, however, on
my table, a pressing invitation from M. Rouget
to come and dine with him at six o'clock, tete-a-tete.
I had no time to refuse, though I was tired
and worried: so I dressed and went.

The dinner was a good one; the wine was
excellent. M. Rouget's eyes gave a glow-worm,
or rather corpse light, kind of glitter when I
told him of my ill success.

"M. Gouffet is not so patient as I am," he
said.

"It is war to the knife, now," I replied. " We
must press the matter fast. I will go to Luneville
myself to-morrow, survey the estate, and collect
witnesses."

He startled when I said to-morrow.

"Good! " said M. Rouget, oracularly; and
was silent for some minutes, as if thinking.
"Just what I was going to propose."

All at once he rose, went to the chimney-piece
with a preoccupied air, and took down a letter
that was stuck in the frame of the mirror.

"A thousand pardons," said he, " bnt I have
been so absorbed in thought to-day about this
business, seeing how much you want it settled.
This letter came for you half an hour after you
left."

I took the letter; it was from England; from
my ward, Mademoiselle Espinasse. It ran
thus:

"Dear Guardy. I write you a hurried line
to tell you that I have heard lately from our
friends at Luneville. They do not know you
are in France, but beg me to warn you against
your agent, M. Rouget, of Châlons. He was
many years ago, they have discovered, imprisoned
at Bordeaux for aiding in a forgery. He
is now supposed to be deeply engaged in Red
plots. He is 'a bad subject' altogether, and
no one knows what he is aiming at, as he seems
to preserve a sort of respectability. Alfred
is so fond of his pony. Mary Danvers is the
dearest girl," &c. &c. &c.

My worst suspicions, then, were realised. My
presentiment had been well founded. That
green-eyed corpse in the seedy evening-dress,
was a villain, perhaps in league with the more
violent Satan of Bar-le-Duc to rob my poor ward
of her little property, and to bamboozle me.

I could have beaten down the green-eyed
corpse with that heavy Bourdeaux decanter
that stood at my elbow; but, it was necessary
for me to dissemble, so I bit my lips, and folding
up the letter, apologised for reading it.

M. Rouget laid down a bunch of raisins he
was stripping, and a green glimmer of distrust,
as from the eyes of a starving wolf, emanated
from his spectacles. I suppose my voice had for
the moment changed; perhaps I had turned paler.

"Nothing disagreeable, I hope, in the letter
from England?"

"Well," said I, hesitatingly, "it does not
contain very pleasant news. Some law business
of mine has gone rather against me."

M. Rouget went on with the raisins; his
suspicions were disarmed. He took an almond
and dipped it in his white wine.

"Ha," he said, " law business will sometimes
go wrong. One plants, one waters; but another
picks the fruit."

How could I deny such a truism? I turned
the conversation.

"Is there any truth," I said, " by the way,
M. Rouget, in these perpetual rumours of plots
against the President? The Journal des Débats
seems full of them to-day. Some railway clerks
have been seized—"

"Seized!" said Rouget, spasmodically, leaping
up and clutching at the tablecloth. " I did
not read it! Where?"

"At Rosières aux Salines," I replied, somewhat
astonished at the lawyer's unusual excitement.

"Oh, at Rosières," said M. Rouget, quietly
resuming his seat and his ordinary death-like
manner; " that is nothing to us Châlons people.
These newspaper fools, these ape-crétins, are
always discovering mares'-nests now, especially
in these eastern departments, where we are all
so loyal. Besides, railway clerks! Why should
railway clerks conspire! Now, to prove to you
the absurdity of these libellous stories, let me
tell you that our beloved President has been
stopping incognito near here, and comes through
to-morrow night with only two attendants, on
his way to Nancy, whence he returns to Paris.
The few who know this, have been much agitated