Mascarin and Hortebise burst into a fit of
unrestrained laughter.

"No," pursued the lawyer, "this is not the child who was sent to the
Hospital of Vendome, and the Duke will recognize this better than I can.
You laugh, but it is because you do not know all."

"Enough," returned Mascarin, and then, turning to the doctor, he
remarked, "Tell him, my friends, that we know more than he thinks."

"And so," said Hortebise, taking Paul's hand, "you are certain that this
is not the lost child because he has not certain marks about him; but
these will be seen upon the day on which Paul is introduced to the Duke,
and legibly enough to satisfy the most unbelieving."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me explain in my own way. If in early childhood Paul had been
scalded on his shoulder by boiling water, he would have a scar whose
appearance would denote its origin?"

Catenac nodded, "You are quite accurate," said he.

"Well, then listen. Paul is coming home with me. I shall take him into
my consulting-room; he will lie on a couch. I shall give him chloroform,
for I do not wish him to suffer any pain. Mascarin will help me. Then I
shall apply, on the proper part, a piece of flannel steeped in a certain
liquid which is an invention of my own. I am not a fool, as you may have
discovered before this; and in a drawer at home is a piece of flannel
cut so as exactly to resemble the irregular outline of a scar of the
kind you describe, and a few little bits here and there will do the rest
of the work artistically. When the liquid has effected its work, which
will be in ten minutes, I shall remove it, and apply an ointment,
another invention of my own, to the wound; then I shall restore Paul to
his senses, and go to dinner."

Mascarin rubbed his hands with delight.

"But you forget that a certain space of time is required to give a scar
the appearance of not having been recent," objected Catenac.

"Let me speak," broke in the doctor. "If we only needed time--six
months, say, or a year--we should postpone our concluding act until
then; but I, Hortebise, assure you that in two months, thanks to another
discovery of my own--will show you a scar that will pass muster, not
perhaps before a fellow-practitioner, but certainly before the Duke."

Catenac's sunken eyes blazed as he thought of the prospective millions.

"May the devil fly away with all scruples!" cried he. "My friends, I am
yours soul and body; you may rely on your devoted Caten