"My old legs would have brought me here long before," said the voice of Gaillard in guarded tones, "but it took me two weeks to get this disguise!" "Gaillard! In heaven's name can it be you?" "'Tis I! I may have aged since we last met, my colonel, but my heart is as young as ever." "My dear Gaillard, how did you manage to leave this prison? What are you doing? Is this not dangerous?" asked Tournay, putting the questions in rapid succession. "Gaillard's liberty would not be worth a brass button if he should come here," replied the actor, "but old Michelet has nothing to fear. I have been playing hide and seek with the police for the past fortnight. I am now living at 15 Rue des Mathurins." Even Tournay, who knew his friend so well, started. "It is a very long story, and I can only give you an outline of it," said Gaillard, seating himself on the stool and leaning heavily on his cane, while he turned his face so that he could see from one corner of his eye every motion the turnkey might make. "I escaped from my dungeon below the ground; I will tell you how when we have more leisure. The first thing I thought of, when I was once out in the free air, was a bath. I wanted to drown out the recollection of assassins and dirty straw, vile air and counterfeiters with whom I had been on such intimate terms for so many weeks. "I was afraid to go to any bath houses lest I should be seen and recognized; besides, I had no money, so I finally concluded to try the river. I therefore skulked in unfrequented byways until nightfall, when I went swimming in the Seine by starlight, and I can assure you I never before appreciated the kindly properties of water to such an extent. My next desire, after I had slept in the arches of the bridge St. Michel and broken my fast with a crisp roll, was to see you." "My dear old uncle!" exclaimed Tournay aloud, placing his hand affectionately on Gaillard's shoulder. "I knew that I should be safe if I could procure a good disguise, but that it would be folly to attempt it without one," continued Gaillard. "The want of money was still an obstacle. 'Among the costumes in my chest at home,' thought I, 'is material to disguise a whole race of Gaillards.' Ah, but how to reach them? That was the matter that required careful study. Those annoying little red seals that the government places on the doors of all arrested persons are terribly dangerous to meddle with. Yet within were clothing and disguises, and a very little sum of money stowed away for an emergency. Meanwhile, in the evening, I promenaded down the Rue des Mathurins to look the ground over. There, planted in front of the house, staring up at the windows of our apartment, was a great hulking gendarme.