y papers, so that you can account for all your life during the
twenty-five years you spent in this world."

"Then I presume that the person into whose shoes I have crept was a
composer and a musician like myself?"

Again Tantaine's patience gave way, and it was with an oath that he
exclaimed,--

"Are you acting the part of a fool, or are you one in reality? No one
has ever been here except you. Did you not hear what the old woman said?
She told you that you are a musician, a self-made one, and while waiting
until your talents are appreciated, you give lessons in music."

"And to whom do I _give_ them?"

Tantaine took three visiting cards from a china ornament on the
mantelshelf.

"Here are three pupils of yours," said he, "who can pay you one hundred
francs per month for two lessons a week, and two of them will assure you
that you have taught them for some time. The third, Madame Grandorge, a
widow, will vow that she owes all her success, which is very great, to
your lessons. You will go and give these pupils their lessons at the
hours noted on their cards, and you will be received as if you had often
been to the house before; and remember to be perfectly at your ease."

"I will do my best to follow your instructions."

"One last piece of information. In addition to your lessons, you are in
the habit of copying for certain wealthy amateurs the fragments of old
and almost obsolete operas, and on the piano lies the work that you
are engaged on for the Marquis de Croisenois, a charming composition
by Valserra. You see," continued Tantaine, taking Paul by the arm, and
showing him round the room, "that nothing has been forgotten, and that
you have lived here for years past. You have always been a steady young
man, and have saved up a little money. In this drawer you will find
eight certificates of scrip from the Bank of France."

Paul would have put many more questions, but the visitor was already on
the threshold, and only paused to add these words,--

"I will call here to-morrow with Dr. Hortebise." Then, with a strange
smile playing on his lips, he added, as Mascarin had before, "You will
be a duke yet."

The old portress was waiting for Tantaine, and as soon as she saw him
coming down the stairs immersed in deep thought, out she ran toward him
with as much alacrity as her corpulency would admit.

"Did I do it all right?" asked she.

"Hush!" answered he, pushing her quickly into her lodge, the door of
whic