"But the man--the man he said it was because I do not belong to the union that he engages me. He says the union holds him, up, what? So! He discharge the union--all of them. We form a new orchestra. Then we don't give a damn, he say. Not a tinkle damn! And Corinne say also not a tinkle damn! And I say not a tinkle damn! _Voila!_" "God bless my soul," said Mr. Bramble, shaking his head. M. Mirabeau rejoiced. He embraced the little musician, he pooh-hooed Mr. Bramble's calamitous regard for the union, and he wound up by inviting de Bosky to stop for lunch with him. "No, no,--impossible," exclaimed de Bosky, feeling in his waistcoat pocket absent-mindedly, and then glancing at a number of M. Mirabeau's clocks in rotation; "no, I have not the time. Your admirable clocks urge me to be off. See! I am to recover the overcoat of my excellent friend, the safe-blower. This letter,--see! Mrs. Moses Jacobs. She tells me to come and take it away with me. Am I not the lucky dog,--no, no! I mean am I not the lucky star? I must be off. She may change her mind. She--" "Mon dieu! I'd let her change it if I were you," cried M. Mirabeau. "I call it the height of misfortune to possess a fur coat on a day like this. One might as well rejoice over a linen coat in mid-winter. You are excited! Calm yourself. A bit of cold tongue, and a salad, and--" "Au revoir!" sang out de Bosky from the top of the steps. "And remember! I shall repay you within the fortnight, monsieur. I promise! Ah, it is a beautiful, a glorious day!" The old Frenchman dashed to the landing and called down after his speeding guest: "Fetch the coat with you to luncheon. I shall order some moth-balls, and after we've stuffed it full of them, we'll put the poor thing away for a long, long siesta. It shall be like the anaconda. I have a fine cedar chest--" But Mr. Bramble was speaking from the bottom of the steps. "And the unfeeling brutes may resort to violence. They often do. They have been known to inflict serious injury upon--" "Tonight I shall play at Spangler's," cried de Bosky, slapping his chest. "In a red coat,--and I shall not speak the English language. I am the recent importation from Budapesth. So! I am come especially to direct the orchestra--at great expense! In big letters on the menu card it shall be printed that I am late of the Royal Hungarian Orchestra, and at the greatest expense have I been secured. The newspapers shall say that I came across the ocean in a special steamer, all at Monsieur Spangler's expense. I and my red coat! So! Come tonight, my friend. Come and hear the great de Bosky in his little red coat,--and--" "Do not forget that you are to return for luncheon," sang out M. Mirabeau from the top of the stairs. There were tears in de Bosky's eyes. "God bless you both," he cried. "But for you I should have starved to death,--as long ago as last week. God bless you!"