"I have been expecting you, Arbuthnot," said he, "for the last week. If you had not soon beaten up my quarters, I should have tried, somehow, to find out yours. What have you been about all this time? Where are you located? What mischief have you been perpetrating since our expedition to the _guingette_ on the river? Come, you have a thousand things to tell me!" M. de Simoncourt looked at his watch--a magnificent affair, decorated with a costly chain, and a profusion of pendant trifles--and threw the last-half of his cigar into the fireplace. "You must excuse me, _mon cher_" said he. "I have at least a dozen calls to make before dinner." Dalrymple rose, readily enough, and took a roll of bank-notes from the cash-box. "If you are going," he said, "I may as well hand over the price of that Tilbury. When will they send it home?" "To-morrow, undoubtedly." "And I am to pay fifteen hundred franks for it!" "Just half its value!" observed M. de Simoncourt, with a shrug of his shoulders. Dalrymple smiled, counted the notes, and handed them to his friend. "Fifteen hundred may be half its cost," said he; "but I doubt if I am paying much less than its full value. Just see that these are right." M. de Simoncourt ruffled the papers daintily over, and consigned them to his pocket-book. As he did so, I could not help observing the whiteness of his hands and the sparkle of a huge brilliant on his little finger. He was a pale, slender, olive-hued man, with very dark eyes, and glittering teeth, and a black moustache inclining superciliously upwards at each corner; somewhat too _nonchalant_, perhaps, in his manner, and somewhat too profuse in the article of jewellery; but a very elegant gentleman, nevertheless. "_Bon_!" said he. "I am glad you have bought it. I would have taken it myself, had the thing happened a week or two earlier. Poor Duchesne! To think that he should have come to this, after all!" "I am sorry for him," said Dalrymple; "but it is a case of wilful ruin. He made up his mind to go to the devil, and went accordingly. I am only surprised that the crash came no sooner." M. de Simoneourt twitched at the supercilious moustache. "And you think you would not care to take the black mare with the Tilbury?" said he, negligently. "No--I have a capital horse, already." "Hah I--well--'tis almost a pity. The mare is a dead bargain. Shouldn't wonder if I buy her, after all." "And yet you don't want her," said Dalrymple. "Quite true; but one must have a favorite sin, and horseflesh is mine. I shall ruin myself by it some day--_mort de ma vie!_ By the way, have you seen my chestnut in harness? No? Then you will be really pleased. Goes delightfully with the gray, and manages tandem to perfection. _Parbleu!_ I was forgetting--do we meet to-night?" "Where?" "At Chardonnier's." Dalrymple shook his head, and turned the key in his cash box. "Not this evening," he replied. I have other engagements."