IT was as I turned the corner into the Rue de l’Evêque that a woman ran straight into my arms. I could hear her gasping for breath, and a glance told me that she was young and pretty. She clutched nervously at my sleeve, and, not unwillingly, I put my arm about her to prevent her falling. “What is it, Mademoiselle?” I questioned. She seemed too agitated and exhausted to reply, but pointed down the street, where, through the gloom, I saw a man running towards us. “He is following you?” I asked. She nodded. “And you wish to be relieved of him?” Again she nodded. “Very well, Mademoiselle,” I said, “do you remain here, and I will say two words to this intruder.” I placed her in the shadow of the wall, and drawing my sword, advanced to meet her pursuer. I had not far to go, for he was almost upon us. He attempted to pass me, but stopped when he saw my point at his breast. “Not so fast, Monsieur,” I said. “It would be well to pause here for a moment. You are quite out of breath and further exertion might easily bring on an apoplexy.” He stared at me in amazement, his face purple, his eyes starting from his head. I saw by his attire that he was a bourgeois of the better class. He was very fat, which accounted for the fact that the girl had outstripped him, and was perhaps sixty years of age. I looked him in the eyes with a smile, and the thought came to me that those were not the eyes of an honest man. “And who the devil are you?” he cried, when he had recovered his breath sufficiently to speak. “My name is of no moment, Monsieur,” I answered. “It is enough that I do not wish you to pass, but to return by the way you came.” He stared at me for a moment, his amazement visibly increasing. I merely smiled the more, for the situation amused me greatly. “If this is a jest,” he said, at last, holding in his anger, “it is a sorry one and one that will cost you dear.” “It is no jest,” I declared. “On the contrary, I was never more in earnest. The way is barred for the present. Return, I beg of you, or I shall be obliged to enforce my request, though I am far from wishing to harm you,” and I made a significant gesture with my sword. “So you are the lover!” he sneered. “I suspected there was a lover,” and he looked me up and down. “I shall not forget your appearance, Monsieur, though I do not know your name. I warn you again that you are playing a dangerous game.” “Dangerous or not,” I retorted, losing patience, “I play it to suit myself. Be off!” “She is my niece,” he protested. “I am her legal guardian. You are setting the law at defiance.”