e book from him, and tried to change the
conversation.

"Have you seen, Sariette, that the rascals are going to rip up the
Palais Mazarin, and cover up the very heart and centre of the Old Town,
the finest and most venerable place in the whole of Paris, with the
deuce knows what works of art of theirs? They are worse than the
Vandals, for the Vandals, although they destroyed the buildings of
antiquity, did not replace them with hideous and disgusting erections
and atrocious bridges like the Pont d'Alexandre. And your poor Rue
Garanciere, Sariette, has fallen a prey to the barbarians. What have
they done with the pretty bronze mask of the Palace fountain?"

Monsieur Sariette never listened to a word of all this.

"Guinardon, you have not understood me. Now listen. This book belongs to
the d'Esparvieu library. It was taken away, how or by whom I know not.
Dreadful and mysterious things went on in that library. But, anyhow, the
book was stolen. I need scarcely appeal to your sentiments of scrupulous
probity, my dear friend. You would not like to be regarded as the
receiver of stolen goods. Give me the book. I will return it to Monsieur
d'Esparvieu, who will duly requite you; of that you may be sure. Rely on
his generosity, and you will be acting like the downright good fellow
that you are."

The antiquary smiled a bitter smile.

"Catch me relying on the generosity of that old curmudgeon of a
d'Esparvieu. Why, he'd skin a flea to get its coat. Look at me,
Sariette, old boy, and tell me if I look like a dunderhead. You know
perfectly well that d'Esparvieu refused to give fifty francs in a
second-hand shop for a portrait of Alexandre d'Esparvieu, the founder of
the family, by Hersent, and that consequently the founder of the family
has had to remain on the Boulevard Montparnasse, propped against a Jew
hawker's stall, just opposite the cemetery, where all the dogs of the
neighbourhood come and make water on him. Catch me trusting to Monsieur
d'Esparvieu's liberality! You've got some bright ideas in your head, you
have!"

"Very well, Guinardon, I myself will undertake to pay you any indemnity
that a board of arbitrators may fix upon. Do you hear?"

"Now don't go and do the handsome for people who won't give you so much
as a thank-you. This man, d'Esparvieu, has taken your knowledge, your
energies, your whole life for a salary that even a valet wouldn't
accept. So leave that idea alone. In any case it is too late. The bo