epresent a duke,
and in a country where none but actors and footmen are clean-shaven this
likeness was the more accentuated. Also the difference between Paragot
hairy and bearded and Paragot in his present callow state was that
between an old unbroken hazel nut and its bald, shrivelled kernel.

We entered the _cremerie_, sat down and ordered our coffee and crisp
horse-shoe loaves. I think the _petit dejeuner_ at a _cremerie_ is one
of the most daintily served meals in France. The morning dew glistens so
freshly on the butter, the fringed napkin is so spotless, the
wide-mouthed cups offer themselves so delicately generous. If everyone
breakfasted there crime would cease. No man could hatch a day's iniquity
amid such influences.

When we were half-way through, Paragot unbuttoned his frock coat and
took from his pocket a black-edged letter which he flourished before my
eyes. It was then that I noticed, to my great surprise, that he had cut
his finger-nails. I thought of Madame Boin.

"It is from the Comtesse de Verneuil, and it gives you the word of the
enigma."

"Yes, Master," said I, eyeing the letter.

"Confess, my little Asticot," he laughed, "that you are dying of
curiosity."

"You would tell me," said I, "that it was no death for a gentleman."

"You have a way of repeating my unsaid epigrams which delights me," said
he, throwing the letter on the table. "Read it."

I read as follows:

"CHATEAU MARLIER
pres de Nevers.
13th Aug. 18--

"MY DEAR GASTON:

"The newspapers may have told you the news of my
husband's death on the 1st August. Since then I
have been longing to write to you but I have not
found the strength. Yet I must.

"Forgive me for the cruel things I said on the
last unhappy night we met. I did not know what I
do now. Before my husband died he told me the true
circumstances of the money transaction. My husband
bought me, it is true, Gaston, but you did not
sell me. You sacrificed all to save my father from
prison and me from disgrace. You have lived
through everything a brave, loyal gentleman, and
even on that hateful night you kept silent. But
oh, my friend, what misery it has been to all of
us!

"I shall be