burst of laughter came from him, he threw his head back with something
like disdain--"and the Code Napoleon!" he added abruptly.

Then he put the glass down without drinking, wheeled back, and dropped
into his chair. Presently he got up, took his keys, went over, opened
the bureau, and brought back a well-worn note-book which looked like a
diary. He seemed to have forgotten Medallion's presence, but it was not
so; he had reached the moment of disclosure which comes to every man, no
matter how secretive, when he must tell what is on his mind or die. He
opened the book with trembling fingers, took a pen and wrote, at first
slowly, while Medallion smoked:

"September 13th.--It is five-and-twenty years ago to-day--Mon Dieu, how
we danced that night on the flags before the Sorbonne! How gay we were
in the Maison Bleu! We were gay and happy--Lulie and I--two rooms and a
few francs ahead every week. That night we danced and poured out the
light wine, because we were to be married to-morrow. Perhaps there would
be a child, if the priest blessed us, she whispered to me as we watched
the soft-travelling moon in the gardens of the Luxembourg. Well, we
danced. There was an artist with us. I saw him catch Lulie about the
waist, and kiss her on the neck. She was angry, but I did not think of
that; I was mad with wine. I quarrelled with her, and said to her a
shameful thing. Then I rushed away. We were not married the next day;
I could not find her. One night, soon after, there was a revolution of
students at Mont Parnasse. I was hurt. I remember that she came to me
then and nursed me, but when I got well she was gone. Then came the
secret word from the Government that I must leave the country or go to
prison. I came here. Alas! it is long since we danced before the
Sorbonne, and supped at the Maison Bleu. I shall never see again the
gardens of the Luxembourg. Well, that was a mad night five-and-twenty