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"Do those packages on that cart ahead belong to you? " asked Mevret. "Yes," replied Du Coudray, in a tremulous voice. "I have there some precious mer chandise which I am going to store in a building near by. I have other packages to arrive; and as soon as I effect a sale I will pay you all I owe." Mevret bowed, and joined his companion; but he did not lose sight of the little man and the cart. " Follow them," he said to his friend. " I believe the rascal means to play me a trick." The friend followed slowly; and Du Cou dray, who looked back from time to time, did not recognize the companion of his cred itor. On reaching the house in the Rue de la Mortellerie bearing the sign of " The Pewter Pot," Du Coudray began to dis charge his load; and Mevret's friend with drew, having first carefully noted the name of the place. The cask of cider was easily handled, but the trunk seemed to be very heavy. Dc Coudray called a water-carrier and a coalheaver, who were passing through the street. The two aided the teamster to transport the packages to the cellar. Having paid these men, Du Coudray went about the neighbor hood seeking a dealer in second-hand arti cles. He finally found one, of whom he bought a wooden shovel, a hammer, some nails, and some boards; he then purchased a bundle of straw and returned to the cel lar, where he remained for about an hour. When he came out, he was very red, his face was covered with perspiration, and he ap peared nervous and excited. For a long time nothing was seen or heard of the little Du Coudray in the Rue de la Mortellerie. Rogeot, the water-carrier, who had assisted in carrying the packages to the cellar, and who lived in the house, noticed, however, that his dog always scratched at the cellar-door whenever he passed it, and howled mournfully. One week after the events already de scribed, the inhabitants of the Rue Beau-

bourg, attracted to their doors in the early morning to view the maskers parading the streets (for it was Mardi-gras), might have seen coming out of the old Hotel de Saluces, at the corner of the Rue des Menestriers, the little man of the Rue de la Mortellerie. He was accompanied by a tall youth, appar ently about twenty years of age. This young man, whose solid, well-built form cer tainly indicated a vigorous constitution, was, nevertheless, very pale and walked with a slow, uncertain step. "Come, my dear boy," said Du Coudray, "it is nothing, — a mere indisposition which the cool, fresh air will quickly dissipate; take my arm, and let me carry the bag. We shall soon reach the coach for Versailles, and in a few hours you will embrace your dear mother, the excellent Madame de la Motte." t The young man passed his hand across his brow, and seemed to make an effort to control himself. The two reached the coach. Once in the carriage the young man sank, apparently exhausted, into a corner. During the journey the little man, who was evidently the guardian or a relative of his companion, gave him his instructions. " Your mother," he said, " awaits us at Versailles, and we shall doubtless find her at the entrance to the Avenue de Paris. If, however, we do not meet her at once, there will be no cause for uneasiness; we will go to an inn, for if she does not come to-day, she will to-morrow, without fail. She is at this moment busily engaged in matters which concern your fu ture, and has brought to bear the most pow erful influences to obtain for you the situa tion of which I have spoken to you." Versailles was reached, but there was no one in the Avenue de Paris who resembled Madame de la Motte. After waiting for an hour, the young man, who still appeared to be suffering greatly, asked for an opportu nity to rest and warm himself. Du Coudray took him to an inn called the Flcur-de-Lys on the Avenue des Sceaux. He left him there before a good fire, saying that he was