"'Tête Dieu! 'tis an odd fellow, this!'
"'Monsieur, pity me!' said I, in a voice full of entreaty. 'I throw myself upon your generosity—I perceive that I melt your heart. I have not my card; it is with my wife——'
"'Morbleu! you are very young to have a wife, my friend, with a chin like an apple,' said the grim old sergeant, as he passed his lantern across my face again; 'I hope she is fully grown; but to the point, my fine fellow, or we shall have to march you to the Conciergerie, and they have an unpleasant mode of pressing questions there.'
"'Where is this wife of yours, my little friend?'
"'In her house, M. le Commissaire, where you see that light above the lamp with the scarlet bottle. Ah, the perfidious! There she awaits a lover for whom I am watching.'
"I acted my part to the life, though jealousy is not a peculiarity of French husbands.
"'And this lover?' said the commissaire, becoming suddenly interested, perhaps from some fellow-feeling.
"'He is a young brother student of mine.'
"'His name?' said the commissaire, producing a note-book.
"'Eugene de Ribeaupierre.'