I could not restrain a roar of laughter, aroused by the desperate decision of Raymond, who, in his fear of being arrested for all the stupid things he had done during the evening, had sought shelter in the silhouette booth, which he was absolutely determined not to abandon. But my laughter caused great perturbation in my neighbor's soul. "Hark!" he said to the painter with scissors; "didn't you hear? There's somebody close by. You told me the garden was empty." "Pay me, monsieur, and be off; or I'll go and fetch the guard to put you out." The threat of the guard made Raymond shudder; he realized that he must leave the friendly shelter of the booth; but before venturing into the garden, he thrust his head out of the door, to see if anyone was on the watch for him. The first person he saw was your humble servant, whose inclination to laugh was vastly increased at sight of the pale and discomposed features of his neighbor. Raymond was uncertain whether he had better hide again or not, when he saw me; but he made the best of the meeting, and, being certain that I would not impose upon his unfortunate plight, he clung to me as to the anchor of salvation. "My dear Monsieur Dorsan, how delighted I am to meet you! If you knew all that has happened to me to-night in this infernal garden!" "Oh! I know! it's made noise enough." "Mon Dieu! do they mean to arrest me?" "Why, it's very possible. The man that you hurt is in a very bad way; the young men whose coats you ruined are collected at the gate; the damage you did in the garden amounts to considerable, and----" "Oh! what an unlucky devil!"--And Raymond rushed back into the silhouette booth, despite the remonstrances of the proprietor, who seized him by the coat and tried to put him out. "Save me, neighbor, I have no hope except in you!" "Very well, I'll do it; although you played me a most contemptible trick last night." "Oh! I promise you--I swear--it was mere chance. I will contradict all that I said, if that will gratify you; I will say that the girl slept with me." "No, no; if you please, Monsieur Raymond, you will be careful never to mention her.--But let us begin by leaving this silhouette emporium. Follow me." "I am with you, my dear neighbor.--Give me my portraits; how much are they?" "Seventeen, at forty sous, makes just thirty-four francs, monsieur." "The devil! that's rather dear!" "It's the regular price." "Come, come," I said to Raymond, whose lugubrious face was not worth thirty-four francs at that moment; "you can make a lot of your friends happy with them; that's some little compensation." Raymond paid, with a sigh, and seized my arm, imploring me to protect him. "I ask nothing better," said I; "but you must appreciate the fact that I can't stand my ground alone against half a hundred young men who are waiting for you at the gate, and are to all appearance determined to make it bad for you."