"You muz come again, 'Sieur Frowenfel'," said both ladies, in a breath.
What could he say?
CHAPTER XXVI
A RIDE AND A RESCUE
"Douane or Bienville?"
Such was the choice presented by Honoré Grandissime to Joseph Frowenfeld, as the former on a lively brown colt and the apothecary on a nervy chestnut fell into a gentle, preliminary trot while yet in the rue Royale, looked after by that great admirer of both, Raoul Innerarity.
"Douane?" said Frowenfeld. (It was the street we call Custom-house.)
"It has mud-holes," objected Honoré.
"Well, then, the rue du Canal?"