had worked the whole thing out
with marvellous cleverness, being greatly assisted by Madame Sand, the
proprietress of the Hotel des Cadets, who was a friend of his
mother's. The lady, it seems, carried on a lucrative business of the
same sort herself, and she undertook to furnish him with the necessary
confederates for the carrying out of his plan. The proceeds of the
affair were to be shared equally between himself and Madame; the
confederates, who helped to jostle Mme. de Nole whilst her dog was
being stolen, were to receive five francs each for their trouble.

When he met me at the corner of the Rue Beaune he was on his way to
the Rue Guenegaud, hoping to exchange Carissimo for five thousand
francs. When he met me, however, he felt that the best thing to do for
the moment was to seek safety in flight. He had only just time to run
back to the hotel to warn Mme. Sand of my approach and beg her to
detain me at any cost. Then he flew up the stairs, changed into his
disguise, Carissimo barking all the time furiously. Whilst he was
trying to pacify the dog, the latter bit him severely in the arm,
drawing a good deal of blood--the crimson scar across his face was a
last happy inspiration which put the finishing touch to his disguise
and to the hoodwinking of the police and of me. He had only just time
to staunch the blood from his arm and to thrust his own clothes and
Carissimo into the wall cupboard when the gendarme and I burst in upon
him.

I could only gasp. For one brief moment the thought rushed through my
mind that I would denounce him to the police for . . . for . . .

But that was just the trouble. Of what could I accuse him? Of
murdering himself or of stealing Mme. de Nole's dog? The commissary
would hardly listen to such a tale . . . and it would make me seem
ridiculous. . . .

So I gave Theodore the soundest thrashing he ever had in his life, and
fifty francs to keep his mouth shut.

But did I not tell you that he was a monster of ingratitude?

CHAPTER V

THE TOYS

1.

You are right, Sir, I very seldom speak of my halcyon days--those days
when the greatest monarch the world has ever known honoured me with
his intimacy and confidence. I had my office in the Rue St. Roch then,
at the top of a house just by the church, and not a stone's throw from
the palace, and I can tell you, Sir, that in those days ministers of
state, foreign ambassadors, aye! and members of His Majesty's
household, wer