The stranger carelessly threw a rumpled paper toward Flint, who grasped it convulsively. His hand touched a bell-rope, and before the bell had ceased tinkling, a heavy measured tramp came through the entry. Four policemen entered the room in single file, with Michel behind them making comical efforts to keep step.
"Arrest him!" cried Flint, hoarse with passion and triumph, "he has extorted money from me!"
"Flint," said the man, walking toward him, "you know that's a lie!"
Mr. Flint retreated behind the policeman.
"This person," he cried, "is a stranger to me; he forced his way into my house and has threatened my life. Arrest him quickly, for he is no doubt armed!"
"Gentlemen," said the stranger, turning to the officers, "Mr. Flint, I fear, has given you useless trouble. Michel, more glasses!"
At this, that astonished individual went off like a rocket.
"For the love you bear your good name, Mr. Flint", he continued, "look at the paper which you so innocently put in your pocket."
An idea struck Flint, which caused him to turn pale. He tore open the letter; but it was not the one for which he would have given half his fortune. Oh! sagacious, wily, clear-sighted Mr. Flint!
"You had better tell these gentlemen that you have made a mistake, Flint. But, before they go, they must have a glass of wine."