the same business."

"Ah! vera happy to see your friend. In the medical profession, I
suppose?"

"No, sir; in the army. Allow me to present him. Major Herbert Greyson,
of the --th Regiment of Cavalry."

"Ou! ay! Grand ciel! This is the brave, the distinguished, the
illustrious officer, so honorably mentioned in the dispatches of the
invincible Taylor and the mighty Scott!" said the little Frenchman,
bowing his night-capped head down to his slippery toes.

Herbert smiled as he returned the bow. And then the little French
doctor, turning to Traverse said:

"But your business, so important and so hasty, which has brought this
officer so illustrious down here--what is it, my friend?"

"We will have the honor of explaining to Monsieur le Docteur, over our
coffee, if he will oblige us by ordering the servant to retire," said
Traverse, who sometimes adopted, in speaking to the old Frenchman, his
own formal style of politeness. "Go, then, John!"

"Oui, oui, certainement! Allez donc, John!"

As soon as the man had gone, Traverse said:

"I propose to discuss this business over our coffee, because it will
save time without interfering with our morning meal, and I know that
immediately afterwards you will go your usual round of visits to your
patients."

"Eh bien! proceed, my son! proceed!"

Traverse immediately commenced and related all that was necessary
concerning the fraud practised upon the institution by introducing into
it an unfortunate woman, represented to be mad, but really only
sorrowful, nervous and excitable. And to prove the truth of his words,
Traverse desired Herbert to read from the confession the portion
relating to this fraud, and to show the doctor the signature of the
principal and the witness.

To have seen the old French doctor then! I rejoice in a Frenchman, for
the frank abandon with which he gives himself up to his emotions! Our
doctor, after staring at the confession, took hold of the top of his
blue tasseled night-cap, pulled it off his head and threw it violently
upon the floor! Then remembering that he was exposing a cranium as bald
as a peeled potato, he suddenly caught it up again, clapped it upon his
crown and exclaimed:

"Sacre! Diable!" and other ejaculations dreadful to translate, and
others again which it would be profane to set down in French or
English.

Gabriel Le Noir was no longer an officer illustrious, a gentleman noble
and distinguished, compassionate and tender; he w