When they no longer came I slackened my pace to a walk, trying in vain to recall how I came and how to reach Rue St. Denis. There was nothing for it but to keep straight on. The streets grew broader and travelers were not so few. I questioned several, and for a coin secured an honest-looking idler to guide me. It was not so very far after all to my inn, yet right joyful I was to see the place again and to find a cheerful fire blazing on the hearth. I stood before the homelike warmth and chuckled to myself at the success of my adventure. The host and some crony of his sat at table with their cards and ale. I overlooked the game. They exchanged glances and prepared to leave off, whereat I apologized and begged them not to let me disturb them. Claude declared he had only waited for me, and being tired he would shut the house. He went on up to bed and his friend took a seat beside me at the fire. He was a simple-looking young fellow, dressed after the fashion of a peasant farmer, with mild blue eyes, and straggling yellow whiskers on his chin. I thought to question him about the city. "Well, friend, how goes the world in Paris?" "Much the same as ever, yet your Paris is new to me." "Indeed? You are not of the city; of what place, then?" "Of Languedoc, in the south, where the skies are bluer and the wind does not cut you through as it does in this damp Paris of yours." "Yes, I thought you of Languedoc, from your speech. So the climate is with us in our parts beyond the seas. Beneath our southern sun ice is a thing almost unknown, and the snow never comes." "And where do you live, my lord?" his eyes wide open and shallow. I felt somewhat flattered at his artless recognition of the difference In our stations. "In Biloxi; the Southern Provinces, Louisiana," I explained, "whereof Bienville is governor." Afterward I thought I could remember a knowing twinkle in the fellow's eye, which passed unnoticed at the moment. "Ah, I hear much of the colonies; it must be a goodly land to dwell in, but for the savages and the cannibals." I laughed outright. "Verily, friend, we have no cannibals worse than the barbarous Spaniards who wait but the chance to slaughter our garrison," and before I was aware, I had told him of my voyage from Biloxi, and of going to Versailles, stopping short only of giving the purpose of my visit to Paris. I was sore ashamed of the indiscretion. When I looked I found him laughing silently to himself, laughing at me. "Then you are Captain de Mouret?" he asked with purest Parisian intonation, and the courtesy of a gentleman. "How do you know?" I attempted to be stern, but somehow my effort fell flat. "How do you know?" "Well, I've been expecting you," and he brushed his hand across his chin, wiping the yellow whiskers away before my astonished eyes.