“‘What the devil does it mean?’ asked I of myself, rather irreverently, as a Guebre would say, had one heard me. ‘What does it mean?’ What put such a queer notion as that in the woman’s head?’ And, while cogitating for an answer, the cab stopped before the required gateway. Hastily dismounting, I paid the man half a gold louis, refused the offered change, but, dismissing him with a word of praise at his alacrity, I hastily rang the bell to summon the concierge or porter. That personage speedily made his appearance, all the quicker from the unwonted vigor applied to the bell-rope. “‘Is your master in the house, _mon ami_?’ “‘_Oui, monsieur_: he has not been absent to-day.’ “‘What! Not been absent, when he left me not thirty minutes ago? Impossible! Monsieur Ravalette _must_ have been absent.’ “‘But who _is_ Monsieur Ravalette? I know of no such person. Monsieur Jacques d’Emprat is my master, and not the person you have mentioned!’ “Here was a fresh mystery. ‘Call Monsieur Jacques d’Emprat, if you please.’ “‘_Certainement, monsieur._ Jeanette, my dear, go upstairs and tell the patron here’s a gentleman wants to see him.’ “Jeanette, a little girl of twelve years, flew to execute the errand, and in a few moments the landlord himself appeared; and I was surprised to find that the well-aproned butler who had attended upon us at dinner and the proprietor of the house were one and the same person. An explanation soon followed, and I learned that Ravalette, who was an entire stranger to the landlord, had come there _two_ days previously for the purpose of engaging a sumptuous dinner for _two_ persons, that being the landlord’s business--a caterer. For the dinner he had paid a round price in advance, and had given the proprietor a small silver coin of peculiar workmanship as a memorial of his visit. This coin or medal the man produced, and, lo! it was a perfect fac-simile, on a larger scale, of the jewel I had that very day examined in the scarf of Ravalette at Belleville. To my question as to when he last saw my mysterious friend, the patron answered: ‘I do not know him, where he is, when I next shall see him--nothing whatever. He left with you, and has not since returned. He is evidently a mysterious man; and were it not that I have this little medal to commemorate his visit, together with three hundred and ten francs in gold in my pocket, which he paid me for the wines and dinner, I should more than half believe that he was the Devil himself out for a lark in Paris. But the Devil never pays in gold, so those say who ought to know, and I am sure Ravalette paid me in bran new coin, which, on account of its beauty and full weight, I just tied up in one end of my long leather purse, meaning to give it to my daughter, at school in Dijon, for a birth-day gift. Here’s the money, as you perceive, nicely tied up, and sealed with wax, just as I fixed it an hour or two after Ravalette paid me.’