"But presently you were blown upon, and compelled to put your cunning at the disposal of the recruiting sergeants. The method of recruiting in those days was quite simple: the recruiting sergeants, to whom one brought simple young fellows or ragged ne'er-do-wells without a home, made everybody drunk; and when they awoke next morning, sober, they found that they had enlisted; and off to the wars they had to go. You provided the recruiting sergeants with recruits at a fixed price. But you were caught in your own trap; for having brought two young fellows to a recruiting sergeant one evening, you made merry with them at a tavern called 'the Sweethearts of Montrueil,' and awoke next morning to find that you had signed on yourself, you were the recruiter recruited." "Well, I don't complain of that," said Theophrastus. "I always had a taste for the army. Besides, if I signed on, it proves that I could write; and you can tell the historians so from me." A clock at Esbly chimed half-past six, and warned them that it was time to go home to dinner. Adolphe broke off his story and took his rod to pieces; and they started for home. On the way Theophrastus said: "Tell me, Adolphe: what was I like? I'm curious to know. I was a fine man, wasn't I? Big and well made?" "You are like that on the stage in that piece of Ennery's. But, as a matter of fact, you were, according to the poet Granval, a man who knew you well and chanted your glory--" "My what?" cried Theophrastus. "Your sanguinary glory--you were: 'Brown, dried-up, thin, and small, by courage great, Reckless and brisk, robust, alert, adroit.'" Theophrastus frowned as if he would have preferred a more romantic picture; then he said, "You haven't told me how you got hold of that portrait in the house in Guénégaud Street." "It's a copy of a photograph by Nadar." "But how on earth did Nadar take my photograph?" cried Theophrastus in extreme surprise. "He took it from a wax mask which must have been very like you, since it was moulded from your face by the order of the Regent. Nadar photographed this mask on the 17th of January, 1859." "And where is it to be found?" said Theophrastus eagerly. "At the Château de Saint-Germain." "I must see that mask!" cried Theophrastus, "I must see it and touch it! We will go to Saint-Germain to-morrow." At that moment the smiling Marceline opened the door of Azure Waves Villa for them. CHAPTER VIII THE WAX MASK At this point I let Theophrastus once more take up the narrative.