te, seemed not anxious to terminate our
acquaintance, although in his amiable and childlike fashion he babbled
of matters which to me seemed unimportant. He was eager to propound his
views on the connection of the American tribes with the peoples of the
Orient, whereas I was all for talking of the connection of England and
the United States with Oregon. Thus we passed the luncheon hour at the
hostelry of my friend Jacques Bertillon; after which I suggested a
stroll about the town for a time, there being that upon my mind which
left me ill disposed to remain idle. He agreed to my suggestion, a fact
for which I soon was to feel thankful for more reasons than one.

Before we started upon our stroll, I asked him to step to my own room,
where I had left my pipe. As we paused here for a moment, he noticed on
the little commode a pair of pistols of American make, and, with a word
of apology, took them up to examine them.

"You also are acquainted with these?" he asked politely.

"It is said that I am," I answered.

"Sometimes you need to be?" he said, smiling. There smote upon me, even
as he spoke, the feeling that his remark was strangely true. My eye fell
on the commode's top, casually. I saw that it now was bare. I recalled
the strange warning of the baroness the evening previous. I was watched!
My apartment had been entered in my absence. Property of mine had been
taken.

My perturbation must have been discoverable in my face. "What iss it?"
asked the old man. "You forget someting?"

"No," said I, stammering. "It is nothing."

He looked at me dubiously. "Well, then," I admitted; "I miss something
from my commode here. Some one has taken it."

"It iss of value, perhaps?" he inquired politely.

"Well, no; not of intrinsic value. 'Twas only a slipper--of white satin,
made by Braun, of Paris."

"_One_ slipper? Of what use?--"

"It belonged to a lady--I was about to return it," I said; but I fear my
face showed me none too calm. He broke out in a gentle laugh.

"So, then, we had here the stage setting," said he; "the pistols, the
cause for pistols, sometimes, eh?"

"It is nothing--I could easily explain--"

"There iss not need, my young friend. Wass I not also young once? Yess,
once wass I young." He laid down the pistols, and I placed them with my
already considerable personal armament, which seemed to give him no
concern.

"Each man studies for himself his own specialty," mused the old man.
"You haf perhaps