"In one moment," he said. "You will pardon me," and he disappeared through the doorway. He was back almost at once with a handful of cigarettes, which he placed on the table. Then he drew up a chair. With a little deprecatory gesture, he used one of my matches to light a cigarette. "It was truly for the gas," he said, catching my smile; "and the gas for the cigarette!" There was something fascinating about the man; an air of good-humor, of comradeship, of strength, of purpose. My eyes were caught by his stodgy, nervous hands, as he held the match to his cigarette; then they wandered to his face--to the black hair flecked here and there with gray; to the bright, deep-set eyes, ambushed under heavy brows; to the full lips, which the carefully arranged mustache did not at all conceal; to the projecting chin, with its little plume of an imperial. A strong face and a not unhandsome one, with a certain look of mastery about it---- "It is true that I need advice," he was saying, as he slowly exhaled a great puff of smoke which he had drawn deep into his lungs. "My name is Martigny--Jasper Martigny"--I nodded by way of salutation--"and I am from France, as you have doubtless long since suspected. It is my desire to become a citizen of Amer-ric'." "How long have you been living in America?" I asked. "Since two months only. It is my intention to establish here a business in wines." "Well," I explained, "you can take no steps toward naturalization for three years. Then you go before a court and make a declaration of your intentions. Two years later, you will get your papers." "You mean," he hesitated, "that it takes so many years----" "Five years' actual residence--yes." "But," and he hesitated again, "I had understood that--that----" "That it was easier? There are illegal ways, of course; but you can scarcely expect me to advise you concerning them, Mr. Martigny." "No; of course, no!" he cried hastily, waving his hand in disclaimer. "I did not know--it makes nothing to me--I will wait--I wish to obey the laws." He picked up a fresh cigarette, lit it from the other, and tossed away the end. "Will you not try one?" he asked, seeing that my pipe was finished, and I presently found myself enjoying the best cigarette I had ever smoked. "You comprehend French--no?" "Not well enough to enjoy it," I said. "I am sorry--I believe you would like this book which I am reading," and he pulled a somewhat tattered volume from his pocket. "I have read it, oh, ver' many times, as well as all the others--though this, of course, is the masterpiece." He held it so that I could see the title. It was "Monsieur Lecoq." "I have read it in English," I said. "And did you not like it--yes? I am ver' fond of stories of detection. That is why I was so absorbed in that affair of Mees--Mees--ah, I have forgotten! Your names are so difficult for me." "Miss Holladay," I said. "Ah, yes; and has that mystery ever arrived at a solution?"