“‘Charles Patterson, London,’ was the name of the occupant of No. 512, Hotel du Louvre, Paris, and 512 was a small bedroom on the fifth floor, and looked down upon the busy Rue St. Honore. Charles was a very fair, girlish-looking boy, who, from the night he took possession of No. 512, kept his room entirely, and was served in his apartment daily with ‘_cafe complet_’ and two eggs in the morning, and with ‘_bif-tek au pommes_’ and _haricots verts_ for dinner in the afternoon. At first the waiter had pointed significantly to the printed notice that having his meals thus served would cost an extra franc, but Charles had answered promptly, ‘_Je le sais_,’ and that had ended it, and he was free to eat where he liked. Nobody noticed or thought of him again until the close of the second day, when, as he stood looking down upon the street below, and reading the strange names on the signs, there came a knock at the door, and a servant handed in a card bearing the name of ‘Eugenie Arschinard.’ The lady herself was in the hall near the door, and in a moment was in the room alone with the young boy, whom she addressed as ‘Monsieur Sharles,’ and whom she regarded intently as he brought her a chair, and then proceeded to light the one candle which the room possessed. “‘_Mon Dieu!_’ she began, in her pretty, half-French, half-English style; ‘_vous etes un petit garcon! Mais n’importe_. You make a very _joli_—what you call him?—waiting-maid _pour moi_. Ah! but you very like _votre sœur_. Poor leetle madame!’ “‘Oh, tell me of Anna, please! Tell me all you know, and what I am to do,’ Fred said, speaking in a whisper, as she had done, lest the occupants of the adjoining rooms should hear what it was necessary to be kept secret. “‘Madame has a leetle babee,’ Eugenie said, and as Fred uttered an exclamation of surprise, she continued: ‘It is so, _veritable_, but I it not write, for fear to worry _la mere_. Both doing well, _petite_ mother and babee, which makes a boy, and monsieur is—what you call it?—very much up; _oui_, very much; but I hasten. Monsieur comes to find me to-night _a diner_. I tell you all _toute de suite_.’ “Then very rapidly she communicated her plan for future action, interspersing her talk frequently with ‘_Mon Dieu!_ you make so pretty girl _Anglaise_, with that fair hair and those blue eyes. Nobody can suspect.’ “And Fred followed her closely, and understood what he was to do, and, after she was gone, wrote to his mother a full account of his adventures thus far, and then waited with what patience he could command for what was to follow. * * * * *