"There," cried he, in a voice broken by emotion, "there, take--buy--eat; but it will cost you dear. I pay for it with my honor and peace of mind. Baffled in all my attempts to procure food for you honestly, I was on my despairing return, when I beheld, at a short distance from me, a tall but slight-made man, who walked hurriedly, but yet with an air as if he expected some one. Ah! thought I, this is some lover; and yielding to the temptation of the fiend, I seized him by the collar. The poor creature was terrified, and, begging for mercy, put into my hands this watch, two gold snuff-boxes, and those Louis, and fled. There they are; they will cost me my life. I shall never survive this infamy." The starving wife re-echoed these sentiments; and even the hungry children joined in the lamentations of the miserable father. All this touched Pierre to the quick. To the great terror of the family, he entered the room, and stood in the midst. "Be comforted," said he to the astonished husband; "you have robbed a robber. The infamous coward who gave up to you this plunder is one of Poulailler's sentinels. Keep it; it is yours." "But who are you?" cried the husband and wife;--"who are you, and by what right is it that you thus dispose of the goods of another?" "By the right of a chief over his subalterns. I am Poulailler." The poor family fell on their knees, and asked what they could do for him. "Give me a light," said Pierre, "that I may get down into the street without breaking my neck." This reminds one of the answer which Rousseau gave to the Duc de Praslin, whose Danish dog, as it was running before the carriage, had upset the peripatetic philosopher. "What can I do for you?" said the Duke to the fallen author of _La Nouvelle Heloise_, whose person he did not know. "You can tie up your dog," replied Jean-Jacques, gathering himself up, and walking away. Poulailler having done his best to render a worthy family happy, went his way, to inflict condign punishment on the poltroon who had so readily given up the purse and the watches. The adventures of this accomplished robber were so numerous and marvellous, that it is rather difficult to make a selection. One evening, at the _bal de l'Opéra_, he made the acquaintance of a charming woman, who, at first, all indignation, was at length induced to listen to his proposal, that he should see her home; and promised to admit him, "if Monseigneur should not be there." "But who is this Monseigneur?" inquired Pierre. "Don't ask," replied the fair lady. "Who is he, fairest?" "Well, how curious you are; you make me tell all my secrets. If you must know, he is a prince of the church, out of whose revenues he supports me; and I cannot but show my gratitude to him." "Certainly not; he seems to have claims which ought to be attended to."