ot seem to
me remarkably warm, Jacques Bricheteau continued:--

"The mysterious precautions I was forced to take in carrying out my
trust are explained by Monsieur le marquis's position towards the
various governments which have succeeded each other in France since
the period of your birth. Under the Empire, I feared that a government
little indulgent to attacks upon itself might send you to share your
father's exile; it was then that the idea of giving you a sort of
anonymous existence first occurred to me. Under the Restoration I feared
for you another class of enemies; the Sallenauve family, which has no
other representatives at the present day than Monsieur le marquis, was
then powerful. In some way it got wind of your existence, and also of
the fact that the marquis had taken the precaution not to recognize you,
in order to retain the right to leave you his whole fortune, which, as a
natural child, the law would in part have deprived you. The obscurity in
which I kept you seemed to me the best security, against the schemes of
greedy relations, and certain mysterious steps taken by them from time
to time proved the wisdom of these precautions. Under the government
of July, on the other hand, it was I myself who I feared might endanger
you. I had seen the establishment of the new order of things with
the deepest regret, and not believing in its duration, I took part in
certain active hostilities against it, which brought me under the ban of
the police."

Here the recollection that Jacques Bricheteau had been pointed out by
the waiter of the Cafe des Arts as a member of the police made me smile,
whereupon the speaker stopped and said with a very serious air:--

"Do these explanations which I have the honor to give you seem
improbable?"

I explained the meaning of my smile.

"That waiter," said Jacques Bricheteau, "was not altogether mistaken;
for I have long been employed at the prefecture of police in the
health department; but I have nothing to do with police espial; on the
contrary, I have more than once come near being the victim of it."

Here a rather ridiculous noise struck our ears, nothing less than a loud
snore from my father, who thus gave us to know that he did not take
a very keen interest in the explanations furnished in his name with
a certain prolixity. I don't know whether Jacques Bricheteau's vanity
being touched put him slightly out of temper, but he rose impatiently
and shook the arm of the s