d Jean, who was fast
having the breath squeezed out of him, fell inside.

The door was as suddenly closed again and barred.

The cavalryman, who had not seen this movement, glanced around on
either side, behind, then beneath his horse, finally up in the sky,
and shrugged his shoulders and rode on along the walk.

"Oho, Monsieur Jean!" roared a friendly voice as the young man caught
his breath; "trying to break into my house, eh? By my saint, young
man, you were in a mighty tight place! Oh, this dreadful day! No
business at all, and----"

"Business!" gasped Jean,--"business, man! Never had a more busy day in
my life!"

"You? Yes! it is such wild young blades as you and that
serious-looking Lerouge who raise all the row in Paris.--I say,
monsieur," broke off the garrulous old restaurateur, and, running to
the window behind the bar, "they're putting the sand!"

Men with barrows from the Ministry of Marine were hastily strewing the
smooth asphalt with sand. It meant cavalry operations.

"But, Monsieur Jean, where's your double? Where's the other Marot
to-day?"

Jean's face clouded. He did not reply.

"I never saw two men look so much alike," continued the restaurateur.

"So the medics all say, and that I do all the deviltry and Henri gets
sent to depot for it." He had called for something to eat, and looked
up from the distant table in continuation,--

"Lerouge has turned out to be the most rabid Dreyfusarde. We met in
the fun to-day----"

"Fun!"

"There certainly was fun for a while. George Villeroy, when I last saw
him, was being chased to the Rue de Rivoli. Hope he gets back this
evening at Le Petit Rouge."

"Le Petit Rouge! Faugh! Nest of red republicans, royalists----"

"No royalists----"

"Anarchists----"

"Yes, I'll admit that----"

"And bloody bones----"

"Bloody noses to-day, monsieur."

"And this Lerouge and you?"

"Yes, this is George's night to carve," said Jean, changing the
subject back to surgery.

"Carve?"

"Yes,--certes! Cut into something fresh, if it turns up."

"Turns up?"

"Why, Monsieur Bibbolet, you're as clever as a parrot! Yes, turns up.
Subject, stiff, cadaver,--see?--Le cafe, garcon!"

"Ah! you medical----"

"You see, George has a new arterial theory to demonstrate. I tell you,
he can pick up an artery as easily as your cook can pick a chicken. If
you'd care to let him try----"

"How! Pick up my arteries? Not if I----"

"What's that?"

They again ran to