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he finally left his table, and passed close by the lieutenant's position on his way to the door.

Now there was nothing very remarkable in this coincidence, after all. On the contrary, it happens continually that we meet people whom we have not known before, once, and then go on meeting them for a time continually, just as it also happens that on a certain day we run against some old friend whom we have not seen for years, and then we do nothing else but knock up against him every day for a fortnight. For things happen in this world in phases, and it is no use saying that they don't. Still Trelane was a little staggered by this meeting, and though he tried for some time to persuade himself that it was a mere chance, and a thing that might happen to anybody at any time, he yet did find himself, as he walked about the Paris arcades making the purchases which he required for his journey, reverting in thought over and over again to this same Lieutenant Tronchet.

When Trelane had got all the things that he required, he went back to the hotel, and straight upstairs to his room. There was Monsieur Morlot established at the table exactly where our Englishman had left him. The medicine-chest, it is true, was put aside, but the little books which Trelane had before observed were spread out before him. There was also a gum-bottle and several small pieces of paper, some of which this remarkable man



seemed to have been fixing on the leaves of each of these account-books in such wise, that sticking out beyond the limits of the book itself, these small markers-they were all labelled-enabled him to refer to any division of the book which he might want. Monsieur Morlot rose when Trelane entered. "You have had some dinner, I hope," said the latter.

"Monsieur, I have dined. Will monsieur kindly audit the accounts?"

Trelane looked mechanically at the little book which M. Morlot presented to him. There were altogether four of these little volumes, and, as has been said, the labels which marked the position of each classified heading stuck out beyond the margin of the books themselves. As Trelane read these inscriptions, which were, of course, in French, and were much abbreviated, he could hardly restrain a smile. Paraphrased in English, the inscriptions on the markers ran something thus:-hotel expenses, ho. ex.: tavern do.: tav. do.; washing was expressed by a simple w.; locomotion was loco.; medicine was rendered med.; gratuities, gra.; wages, wag.; stationery, sta.; clothing, clo.; and sundries-last refuge of the un-businesslike-lost its final syllable and became sun.

The audit solicited by M. Morlot was not a very arduous one. The leaf presented to Trelane's gaze contained just one very small entry at the very top of

the page which was dedicated to tavern expenses or tav. do., and ran thus: "Dinner of Jacques Morlot, 75 c." Having exhibited this, M. Morlot turned to the leaf labelled gratuities, and there was inscribed "Garçon, 10c."

"What!" cried Trelane; "do you mean to say that you have been eating a dinner which only cost seventy-five centimes, fifteen sous, five sous less than a franc: sevenpence-halfpenny, English?" he added to himself.

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Monsieur, that, and two sous for the waiter, was the amount of my expenditure."

"But, my good friend, you must have been poisoned; why on earth did you not dine here at the hotel ?"

"Monsieur, the hotel charges are monstrous; had I dined here, more than four times the amount I have paid would have been set down to the account of monsieur."

Trelane had not seen much of French servants, and this anxiety on the part of the servant to save the master's purse was new and bewildering to him. The esprit de corps of foreign domestics is all on the side of the master who keeps them; in England it is just the other way, and the sympathy of even good servants is with the individual with whom the master happens to have dealings. In fact he seems to delight in making you spend as much money as possible.

Trelane's meditations were interrupted by a ques➡ tion from his faithful attendant.

"Will monsieur have the goodness to recount what he has spent since I had the honour to enter his service?"


My good fellow," said the Englishman; "you really must not expect me to fall into this system of account-keeping. It is a thing I never did in my life. No, you may enter anything you spend on my account, as much as you like; and I hope I shall never see so small an amount again put down for a dinner; but as for me, I really must ask you to excuse me, once for all."

Directly he had spoken, Trelane was half sorry for what he had said. An expression of the profoundest misery and the most abject disappointment came upon M. Morlot's countenance.

"As monsieur wills it," he said.

Trelane watched his attendant as he slowly and regretfully casts his eyes over the different labels which he had so carefully affixed to the edges of the leaves, and closed the books and softly placed them side by side previous to putting them away. Our Englishman had a gentle heart, and when he saw what a sad expression the old fellow wore, now that he was crossed in his hobby, when he thought of that seventy-five centime entry for a dinner; and when he remembered what a small thing after all was wanted of him, he broke down altogether and cried out in a cheery tone:

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"Well, Monsieur Morlot, on second thoughts, I don't know but what you're right. Open the books again, and I'll try and remember what I've spent."

Well, well, I hope these small acts of mercy go for something in a man's account! But, then, think of the small cruelties which most of us have to set against them.

To see M. Morlot open all the books again, and, dipping his pen in the ink, look up eagerly to catch the items of the Englishman's expenditure as he threw them to him, was a sight of mixed pathos and comedy.


Dinner," said Trelane; he was rather ashamed of the amount, though it was nothing for Paris: "six francs fifty centimes."

Monsieur Morlot turned gravely to the tav. do. division and made the entry.

"Oh, by-the-by, I forgot the waiter," cried Trelane.

"Monsieur, that is entered in another department, under the heading gratuities."

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"Garçon, fifty centimes."

Morlot looked rather bewildered at such munificence; but he entered the sum, and Trelane went on. "Travelling pouch to strap round body, fifteen francs."

"I could have got one for monsieur for six francs fifty," remarked M. Jacques.

"Twelve pocket-handkerchiefs, sixty francs."

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