I did not wait to be asked twice, but ran downstairs as fast as I could. The policeman was at the area door, his bull's eye in his hand. ----"I have just seen a man on the roof of your house, sir," said he to me. "If you will go up and watch to prevent him from getting in at the windows of the upper story, while I search the garden and go round the house, he can't escape us." It seemed to me that the gallant policeman assigned me a more dangerous post than the one he reserved for himself; but after all, as I had more interest than he in preventing the robber from entering my house, I went upstairs and lay in ambush, having taken care to arm myself with the strongest stick I could find in the hall. I remained at my post of observation for a good quarter of an hour. Tired of awaiting my burglar, who gave no more sign of life than a corpse, I returned at last to the kitchen to see what success the policeman had met with. He had caught nobody. ----"I can't see anything of him, sir; the rascal must have got away." ----"But how?" I exclaimed; "burglars have not the power of rendering themselves invisible like Mahdis." ----"I can't make it out at all," replied the worthy guardian of the public peace evidently embarrassed. And taking up his lantern, that he had placed on the kitchen table, he wished me "Good-night" and retired. ----"Did you see anyone or hear any noise," I asked the servant. ----"No, sir." ----"You have had a fright all the same; you are looking quite excited." ----"Oh! yes, sir, I was rather frightened," said she. I went back to my study a little bit reflective. Policemen, like gendarmes, are all alike. And yet it seemed to me that the face of the one I had just spoken to was not unfamiliar to me, and that it was he that I had espied one evening from behind my curtain, taking the measure of my servant's waist as they stood at the gate together. The end of this true story of brigands is, that the girl left my service in the following month of May to get married, and that in the end of the same year, a lusty little policeman made his entry into the world, crying: "Stop thief!" at the top of his voice. I always consider that policeman as wanting in the first duties of politeness and gratitude in not asking me to stand godfather to the youngster. It was the least he could have done. XV. In the Smoking-room--_Causerie_. (_John Bull, Esquire, and Monsieur, his neighbour, talk on matrimonial matters._) _J. B._--"So, my dear fellow, you are going to be married, it is quite decided." _Monsieur._--"Yes, quite." _J. B._--"And who is the lady, if I may be so bold?" _Monsieur._--"A charming English girl." _J. B._--"Ah! charming, of course.... But what else?" _Monsieur._--"What else? But that is already a great deal, it seems to me. What would you have, my dear sir? A pair of heavenly blue eyes...." _J. B._--"I congratulate you." _Monsieur._--"A lovely figure...."