I shall want you
to take a note to him in the morning."

He came back with the case in his hand and said: "I saw you take out a
card, sir, when we were at 12 Rue du Roi de Rome. You looked at it and
put it back in the case. It is not there now, nor in any of your
pockets, but I remember the address. Perhaps--" and he paused.

"Perhaps what?"

"You gave the very angry gentleman a card."

"Nonsense!" I returned. "Look again." I could see, by the faint smile
and the slight uplift of the brow, that my valet appreciated the
situation. He was gone for at least ten minutes. Meanwhile I sat
still, more and more sure that I had made one of those blunders which
might bear unpleasant interpretations. At length, impatient, I joined
Alphonse in his search. It was vain. He stood at last facing me with a
pair of pantaloons on one arm, a coat on the other, all the pockets
turned inside out.

"Monsieur--circumstances--I mean it is to be feared--I have looked
everywhere."

"It is incredible," said I.

"But the night, monsieur, and the storm, and the count, who was not
polite."

He was sorry for me and perfectly understood what had happened. Yes,
undoubtedly I had given the count Captain Merton's card. I said as
much while Alphonse stood still with a look in which his constant
sense of the comic contended for expression with his desire to
sympathize in what he was shrewd enough to know was, for me, that form
of the socially tragic which has for its catastrophe ridicule.

I went back to my salon and sat down to reflect on the consequences of
my mishap. Of course, it was easy to set the matter right, but what a
muddle! I must make haste in the morning to correct my blunder.

Desirous to be on time, about ten the next morning I called on the
count. He had gone out. At the Foreign Office I again failed to find
him. I was told that he had gone to his club for breakfast, but would
be back very shortly. I waited a half-hour and then tried the club. He
had left. Remembering that I had said I should be at home from eleven
to twelve, I looked at my watch and saw, to my annoyance, that it was
close to noon. I had hoped to anticipate the call of the count's
seconds on Merton. I felt sure, however, that the captain would simply
deny any share in my adventure, and that a word or a note from me to
the count would set things straight. Although I regretted the delay my
vain pursuit of the count had caused, a little reflection put me at
ease