s
strange behaviour, I hid in the shadow of a wall, and kept a patient
watch for over an hour, but he did not return.

"Chut!" I exclaimed at last, "Raoul has shaken my nerves with his
warning of Peleton and Maubranne. Most likely the man did not know me
from Adam." I endeavoured to dismiss the incident from my mind, yet I
could think of little else during the walk home, and even the next day
the memory of it clung to me. It seemed absurd to suppose that any one
would spy on my actions, but in those days nothing was too absurd to be
true.

"Well," I thought, "it can soon be tested. I will visit the Rue
Crillon again to-night, and keep a sharp look-out."

The streets as usual were extremely noisy; the citizens were out in
crowds, and several slight scuffles occurred between the friends of
Conde and De Retz. Taking no notice of these squabbles, I proceeded
briskly to the Rue Crillon, and there found my man in his hiding-place.
He was carefully watching the house opposite, but as soon as I appeared
within sight he vanished.

"Oh, oh," said I to myself, with a chuckle, "it is Madame Coutance you
are watching, is it? Well, my friend, you will find that two can play
at that game!" and, discovering a quiet corner, I stood flattened
against the wall with my face muffled.

Two hours passed, but the man did not re-appear, and, when midnight
arrived without any incident, I left the Rue Crillon, which was now
almost deserted.

In a side street a number of people were cheering loudly for Conde, and
farther on I met half a dozen cavaliers evidently returning from some
meeting. One was Baron Maubranne. Willing to keep out of mischief, I
drew aside to let him pass, hoping he would not recognise me. He
passed on singing lustily, but a second man stared insolently into my
face. Keeping my temper, though my fingers itched to chastise the
fellow, I went on my way, thinking the danger past; but in this I was
wrong.

To reach the Pont Neuf it was necessary to traverse a narrow dingy
court, and here my life and my story nearly came to an end together.

Still thinking of the mysterious spy in the Rue Crillon, and not at all
of Maubranne's friends, I proceeded slowly, paying little heed to my
route. Happily for me the court was very quiet; the inmates had
retired to rest, and nothing broke the stillness of the night.

Suddenly I stopped, with my hand on my sword, and listened intently.
From behind came the swift patter of