to do in the Forest of Arden, and I was equally ignorant of what
would befall when I landed at Algiers. He was bound on a fool adventure,
and so was I. He preferred the easy way of home, and so do I. I have
always loved Touchstone, but I have never thoroughly understood him till
now.

It rained persistently in Paris. It rained as I drove from the Gare du
Nord to my hotel. It rained all night. It rained all the day I spent
there and it rained as I drove from my hotel to the Gare de Lyon.
A cheery newspaper informed me that there were torrential rains at
Marseilles. I mentioned this to Rogers, who tried to console me by
reminding me that we were only staying at Marseilles for a few hours.

"That has nothing to do with it," said I. "At Marseilles I always eat
bouillabaisse on the quay. Fancy eating bouillabaisse in the pouring
rain!"

As usual, Rogers could not execute the imaginative exercise I
prescribed; so he strapped my hold-all with an extra jerk.

Now, when homespun London is wet and muddy, no one minds very much.
But when silken Paris lies bedraggled with rain and mud, she is the
forlornest thing under the sky. She is a hollow-eyed pale city, the
rouge is washed from her cheeks, her hair hangs dank and dishevelled,
in her aspect is desolation, and moaning is in her voice. I have a
Sultanesque feeling with regard to Paris. So long as she is amusing and
gay I love her. I adore her mirth, her chatter, her charming ways. But
when she has the toothache and snivels, she bores me to death. I lose
all interest in her. I want to clap my hands for my slaves, in order to
bid them bring me in something less dismal in the way of fair cities.

I drove to the Rue Saint-Dominique and handed in my card and letter
of introduction at the _Ministere de la Guerre_. I was received by
the official in charge of the _Bureau des Renseignements_ with bland
politeness tempered with suspicion that I might be taking a mental
photograph of the office furniture in order to betray its secret to
a foreign government. After many comings and goings of orderlies
and underlings, he told me very little in complicated and reluctant
language. Captain Vauvenarde had resigned his commission in the
Chasseurs d'Afrique two years ago. At the present moment the Bureau had
no information to give as to his domicile.

"Have you no suggestion, Monsieur, to offer?" I asked, "whereby I may
obtain this essential information concerning Captain Vauvenarde?"

"Hi