She said _adieu_, but she did not go. I held one of her hands; she repelled me and drew me toward her at the same time. My eyes were fixed upon hers; we said nothing; but if my porte cochère had been open, I believe that Nicette would have gone with me again. A sudden outcry aroused us from that pleasant situation. A man ran along the street, shouting _thief_! Nicette withdrew her hand, bade me a very affectionate good-night, and fled. I tried to detain her, but she was already far away. I knocked at my door and was just about to enter, when the man whom I had seen running toward us, all alone, and whom I had taken for a drunken man, rushed through the porte cochère and fell headlong in the courtyard, crying: "Safe at last!" I recognized Raymond's voice; I was curious to learn the end of his adventures. The concierge, hearing the uproar, arrived on the scene with a light, and we saw Raymond, his trousers torn from waistband to knee, lying at full length in the courtyard, gasping with fatigue, and trying to recover his breath. "Mon Dieu!" cried Madame Dupont; "what has happened to you, Monsieur Raymond? a pretty mess you're in!" "What! is it you?" said I, in my turn; "why did you leave Tivoli without waiting for my signal?" "Oh, yes! I fancy I should have had to wait a long while for your signal!" "You're too impatient." "I had been crouching in that corner for an hour, when I saw some men making the rounds of the garden. Faith! that gave me a fright, and I determined to scale the wall. But I was in such a hurry that I got caught on some broken glass; I tore my trousers and cut the base of my spine. On Rue du Mont-Blanc, I was insulted by some drunken men; indeed, I think they meant to rob me; but I ran off, shouting for help, and here I am in port, God be praised! But I shall remember Tivoli!" "You must bathe your back in warm water, monsieur," said Madame Dupont. "Yes, I'll do that in the morning." "You saved your silhouettes, I hope?" said I. "I believe I lost some of them when I dropped from the wall." "The devil! that's a pity! they'll testify against you, and it will be easy to recognize that profile of yours. I advise you to wear a false nose and spectacles for a fortnight or so." My neighbor, who knew very well that I was making sport of him, took his candle and tramped upstairs without a word to me. When we were on our landing, I nodded to him, with a smile, and entered my lodgings alone, where I slept soundly. Nights follow but do not resemble one another: that is what all women say a fortnight after marriage. XII VEXATIONS