My Library

search of—his own ghost, my dear!” said the old man, as he darted up the street. The notion was so funny, that I remembered it all the while I was crossing the street—a very long time for us Bonnes to recollect anything, mon cher ami; and when Auburt there asked me what ailed you, why, I looked wise, and repeated the greybeard’s observation, and—another cup of coffee, if you please—that was all.’ “I breathed freer. ‘But tell me, my dear, what sort of man this old fellow was?’ ‘Certainly—another gâteau, garçon; monsieur will pay for it— certainly!’ and the young woman went on to describe—Ravalette! as well as I could have done myself, had that mysterious individual stood before me then and there. It was enough. I was satisfied, and determined to push my inquiries further. I thanked the girl, paid the bill of thirty-five sous, left the place, and hurried as fast as I possibly could to the flower-gardens, that, it will be remembered, Ravalette and myself had visited together. I went to the first one, and asked the gardener if he had seen the old man who had been my companion on a recent visit, an hour or two before? “ ‘Old man? Well, you are a funny man, to call a boy of seventeen years an old man! I recollect you well enough, for you bought a fine bouquet, one of the damask roses composing which you now carry in your button-hole. I remember you well enough, and the beardless stripling, your