ble duties, the Commissary of Police made a descent upon
the inn, arrested the landlord and landlady and carried away my
account books with him. No, I had not vanquished the fates!"

Every head was turned, every eye directed in amazement towards
this extraordinary personage. There was much whispering and some
half-suppressed laughter. Jean, seeing himself the centre of
mocking glances and looks of annoyance, drew Tudesco towards the
door. But just as the Marquis was making a series of sweeping
bows by way of farewell to the ladies, Jean found himself face
to face with the Superintendent of Studies, who said to him:

"Oh! Monsieur Servien, will you go and take detention in Monsieur
Schuver's absence?"

The Marquis pressed his young friend's hand, watched him depart
to his duties, and then, turning back to the groups gathered in
the parlour, he waved his hand with a gesture at once dignified
and appealing to call for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I have translated into the
French tongue, which Brunetto Latini declared to be the most
delectable of all, the _Gerusalemme Liberata_, the glorious
masterpiece of the divine Torquato Tasso. This great work I wrote
in a garret without fire, on candle wrappers, on snuff papers----"

At this point, from one corner of the parlour, a crow of childish
laughter went off like a rocket.

Monsieur Tudesco stopped short and smiled, his hair flying, his
eye moist, his arms thrown open as if to embrace and bless; then
he resumed:

"I say it: the laugh of innocence is the ill-starred veteran's
joy. I see from where I stand groups worthy of Correggio's brush,
and I say: Happy the families that meet together in peace in
the heart of their fatherland! Ladies and gentlemen, pardon me
if I hold out to you the casque of Belisarius. I am an old tree
riven by the levin-bolt."

And he went from group to group holding out his peaked felt hat,
into which, amid an icy silence, fell coin by coin a dribble
of small silver.

But suddenly the Superintendent of Studies seized the hat and
pushed the old man outside.

"Give me back my hat," bawled Monsieur Tudesco to the Superintendent,
who was doing his best to restore the coins to the donors; "give
back the old man's hat, the hat of one who has grown grey in
learned studies."

The Superintendent, scarlet with rage, tossed the felt into the
court, shouting:

"Be off, or I will call the police."

The Marquis Tudesco took to his