“‘Lord bless you, sir,’ she said, ‘I did but repeat what an old man said who stood on the side of the carriage opposite to that by which you entered. I had just crossed over from his side when you saw and heard me. As you came running down the street, everybody saw you, and that you were in a hurry, and several persons made observations as to the cause of your great haste. Said one, “The man’s mad!” said another, “His woman has just run off with a lover, taking his twins along for company’s sake, and he’s after them with a sharp stick!” Said the old man at my side, “He’s in search of what he won’t find very soon.” “What’s that, sir?” I ventured to ask. “He’s in search of--ahem!--in search of--_his own ghost, my dear_!” said the old man, as he darted up the street. The notion was so funny, that I remembered _it all the while I was crossing_ the street--a very long time for us _Bonnes_ to recollect anything, _mon cher ami_; and when Auburt there asked me what ailed you, why, I looked wise, and repeated the grey-beard’s observation, and--another cup of coffee, if you please--that was all.’ “I breathed freer. ‘But tell me, my dear, what sort of man this old fellow was?’ ‘Certainly--another _gâteau, garçon_; monsieur will pay for it--certainly!’ and the young woman went on to describe--Ravalette! as well as I could have done myself, had that mysterious individual stood before me then and there. It was enough. I was satisfied, and determined to push my inquiries further. I thanked the girl, paid the bill of thirty-five sous, left the place, and hurried as fast as I possibly could to the flower-gardens, that, it will be remembered, Ravalette and myself had visited together. I went to the first one, and asked the gardener if he had seen the old man who had been my companion on a recent visit, an hour or two before? “‘_Old_ man? Well, you _are_ a funny man, to call a boy of seventeen years an _old_ man! I recollect you well enough, for you bought a fine bouquet, one of the damask roses composing which you now carry in your button-hole. I remember you well enough, and the beardless stripling, your companion; but I have not seen him since you both left together.’ “‘Bah, my friend!’ said I, ‘it won’t do. I know perfectly well that my comrade here was _not_ a youngster, but a man of full seventy years of age, if a single day!’ “‘_Sacré bleu!_ You’d better tell me I lie at once, and be done with it! You may _say_ it was an old man, but I’ll be cursed if it wasn’t a young one, not yet out of his teens; and what’s more to the purpose, I’ll back my opinion, and bet you an even bottle of _Jean Lafitte_, forty-two years old, that the person who accompanied you here this day was a small, thin, sallow-faced youth of not over fifteen years! Will you take the wager?’ “‘Yes, and forty more just like it; but who shall be our umpire, and decide the bet?’