"Yes, yes, I can see that; but I can't pass the night here; I have no hat, and I should certainly take cold; and to-morrow night I am to sing the aria from _Joconde_ at a musical party." "This is very embarrassing. Do you want to risk going out at the gate?" "No, indeed! These young men, when they get excited, are very brutal." "I see but one way, then, and that is to climb over the wall." "But suppose I am taken for a thief?" "Never fear; I have a scheme in my head. Come!" We took the darkest paths. Raymond followed me in fear and trembling. I led him to the wall on Rue de Clichy, and bade him sit on the ground behind a clump of trees. "Stay here; I'll go out of the gate and come around to the opposite side of the wall on Rue de Clichy. When there seems to be an opportune moment for you to climb over without risk, I will give the signal." "What signal?" "I will clap my hands twice." "Agreed. The wall's rather high; but still, rather than be beaten to a jelly--I can't hesitate." "Adieu! patience; don't make a noise, don't stir, but wait for the signal." "Oh! I won't fail. You couldn't lend me your hat, could you?" "Impossible; I have to sing in a duet to-morrow." "Then I'll put my handkerchief over my head." "That will be very wise." "By the way, if they question you at the gate, you must say that I've gone." "That goes without saying." "Don't leave me too long." "Of course, I shan't suggest your showing yourself while I see anybody prowling about." "Dear Dorsan! I am tremendously obliged to you." "Adieu! I go to keep watch for you." I took my leave of Raymond, laughing inwardly at his plight and his poltroonery. At last I left the garden; it was high time, for they were just going to close the gates. As I passed, I glanced down Rue de Clichy, where my neighbor supposed that I was doing sentry duty in his behalf; and I strolled leisurely homeward, leaving dear Raymond to wait for my signal. His conduct of the preceding evening merited that little retaliation; moreover, the most speedy revenge is always the best. XI BY MOONLIGHT I pursued my homeward way, congratulating myself on my little game, and laughing at the thought of Raymond's fright and of the figure he must cut waiting for me to rescue him. But soon my mind reverted to a more agreeable subject. I thought of the charming Caroline. I had no doubt that she had read my note, and on the morrow I would go to her shop and find out how far I might hope. A not very moral scheme, I agree! I proposed to try to seduce a girl, in order to gratify a caprice that would last only a moment. But what would you have? I have some grievous faults; I believe that unmarried men were put into the world to make love to girls. Those girls who desire to remain virtuous should do as Nicette did--refuse to allow themselves to be seduced.