Talking of anti-Semitism one of those mornings, Ferrand said: “Yes, _monsieur_, plenty of those gentlemen in these days esteem themselves Christian, but I have only once met a Christian who esteemed himself a Jew. _C’était très drôle--je vais vous conter cela._ “It was one autumn in London, and, the season being over, I was naturally in poverty, inhabiting a palace in Westminster at fourpence the night. In the next bed to me that time there was an old gentleman, so thin that one might truly say he was made of air. English, Scotch, Irish, Welsh--I shall never learn to distinguish those little differences in your race--but I well think he was English. Very feeble, very frail, white as paper, with a long grey beard, and caves in the cheeks, and speaking always softly, as if to a woman.... For me it was an experience to see an individual so gentle in a palace like that. His bed and bowl of broth he gained in sweeping out the kennels of all those sorts of types who come to sleep there every night. There he spent all his day long, going out only at ten hours and a half every night, and returning at midnight less one quarter. Since I had not much to do, it was always a pleasure for me to talk with him; for, though he was certainly a little _toqué_,” and Ferrand tapped his temple, “he had great charm, of an old man, never thinking of himself, no more than a fly that turns in dancing all day beneath a ceiling. If there was something he could do for one of those specimens--to sew on a button, clean a pipe, catch beasts in their clothes, or sit to see they were not stolen, even to give up his place by the fire--he would always do it with his smile so white and gentle; and in his leisure he would read the Holy Book! He inspired in me a sort of affection--there are not too many old men so kind and gentle as that, even when they are ‘crackey,’ as you call it. Several times I have caught him in washing the feet of one of those sots, or bathing some black eye or other, such as they often catch--a man of a spiritual refinement really remarkable; in clothes also so refined that one sometimes saw his skin. Though he had never great thing to say, he heard you like an angel, and spoke evil of no one; but, seeing that he had no more vigour than a swallow, it piqued me much how he would go out like that every night in all the weather at the same hour for so long a promenade of the streets. And when I interrogated him on this, he would only smile his smile of one not there, and did not seem to know very much of what I was talking. I said to myself: ‘There is something here to see, if I am not mistaken. One of these good days I shall be your guardian angel while you fly the night.’ For I am a connoisseur of strange things, _monsieur_, as you know; though, you may well imagine, being in the streets all day long between two boards of a sacred sandwich does not give you too strong a desire to _flâner_ in the evenings. _Eh, bien!_ It was a night in late