To refuse to meet him would be social ruin and would seriously affect my usefulness, as I was the only attache who spoke French with entire ease, and it was, as I said, a part of my duty to learn at the clubs and in society the trend of opinion in regard to the war with the rebel States. I could do nothing but wait. I was the victim of circumstances and of an embarrassing situation not of my making, and in regard to which I could offer no explanation. There was nothing left for me except to see what the morning would bring. I dined that evening with my chief, but of course said nothing of my adventure. On my return home I found Alphonse. "Well," I said, "what the deuce became of you?" "I dived into the edge of the wood, and after hearing what passed I considered that you might desire to know who the lady was." "Yes, I did--I do." "I overtook her very easily, and as she seemed quite lost, I said I was your servant. When I had set her on the avenue she wanted to find, she said I might go, and gave me a napoleon, and I was to thank you." "Did you follow her?" "No; she seemed to want to go on alone. I hope monsieur approves." "I do." There was a curious delicacy about this which was explained when he added: "She is quite sure to let monsieur hear of her again. I ventured to mention your name." The point of view was Parisian enough, but I contented myself with a further word of satisfaction, although I had my doubts as to whether his theory would fit the case of my handsome countrywoman. As I rose, about to go to bed, I said to Alphonse: "You will find in my card-case the card and address of Captain Merton. I shall want you to take a note to him in the morning." He came back with the case in his hand and said: "I saw you take out a card, sir, when we were at 12 Rue du Roi de Rome. You looked at it and put it back in the case. It is not there now, nor in any of your pockets, but I remember the address. Perhaps--" and he paused. "Perhaps what?" "You gave the very angry gentleman a card." "Nonsense!" I returned. "Look again." I could see, by the faint smile and the slight uplift of the brow, that my valet appreciated the situation. He was gone for at least ten minutes. Meanwhile I sat still, more and more sure that I had made one of those blunders which might bear unpleasant interpretations. At length, impatient, I joined Alphonse in his search. It was vain. He stood at last facing me with a pair of pantaloons on one arm, a coat on the other, all the pockets turned inside out. "Monsieur--circumstances--I mean it is to be feared--I have looked everywhere." "It is incredible," said I. "But the night, monsieur, and the storm, and the count, who was not polite."