justifiable. I left Florence, I changed my name, from regard for my family, and I followed the current. One travels rapidly on that road! As I was dexterous and fearless, I soon left behind all those whose imitator I had been. I became famous at Naples, at Rome, at Milan, throughout Italy. But my description was spread broadcast, and, in spite of the care with which I concealed my features, I was obliged to leave my native land. Then it was that I came to France, to Paris, where I have been plying my trade for six months, in the teeth of the watch, and despite the efforts of the police and of monsieur le cardinal's bloodhounds. However, I will confess to you in confidence that I have as yet found no one among all your lovely Frenchwomen comparable to the pretty girls of Florence and Milan. I have left some tender memories in those cities. Indeed, I would stake my head that I am not yet entirely forgotten there; and on my own part—but, pardon me! I am too loquacious, I abuse your patience.—That is my story, signor; as you see, there is nothing very extraordinary in it."

While listening to the robber, Léodgard had become gloomy and pensive; his head had fallen on his breast, and it was difficult to say whether he was still listening or was lost in thought.

Giovanni, having for some moments refrained from disturbing the silence of the young man to whom he had related his adventures, said at last:

"I beg pardon, signor; I have told you what you wished to know, but the night is hastening, and I must soon think of returning to my lair. So, give me your purse, and I will take leave of you."

"Have you any companions, any confederates?" asked Léodgard abruptly, without answering the robber.

"No, indeed; I am no such fool! I work alone, and I am the better for so doing. If I had had confederates, I should have been caught long ago! As you must know, in all ranks of society, a man is never betrayed, except by his own people. Come, my young gentleman, let us finish our business. I know that this street abounds in memories, and that it is well worth while to pause and consider it. A few steps from here, during the night of June 13, 1392, the Connétable Olivier de Clisson, coming from the Hôtel Saint-Pol, where he had supped with the king, was treacherously assaulted and murdered by Pierre de Craon, chamberlain and favorite of the Duc d'Orléans, brother of King Charles VI. By a most fortunate chance, Clisson wore a coat of mail under his clothes; he received more than sixty sword and knife thrusts which did not reach his body; but he was finally wounded in the head and thrown from his horse; he fell against the door of a baker's shop, which was ajar, and his assassins took flight."

"Malpeste! Giovanni, so you know our history too!" said Léodgard, apparently taking pleasure in listening to the brigand.

"And why not, signor? I have told you that I am the son of a dottore!—And that Rue des Francs-Bourgeois, which you have just left—I have been following you for some time, you see—that Rue des Francs-Bourgeois will always figure in your annals. There it was that two miserable wretches lived toward the close of the last century—two poor brothers, beggars, in short, who possessed the talent of imitating perfectly the baying of a pack of hounds and the notes of a number of hunting horns. Certain leaders of the League formed the plan of using those beggars to lead your King Henri IV into a trap, knowing his passion for the chase. One day when the king was enjoying that sport in the forest of Vincennes, the noise of a pack of hounds, of horns, and of hunters, very distant at first, suddenly drew near; a black man, forcing his way through the underbrush, appeared before Henri IV and said to him in an awe-inspiring voice: 'Did you hear me?'—But neither the king nor any one of his train ventured to follow that man, who, it is said, was to have hurled a lance at the king if he had tried to come up with him. And all this was the work of the Leaguers and of the two beggars from Rue des Francs-Bourgeois!"

"By my faith, Master Giovanni, you have told me something that I did not know!—Pray go on; I see that one cannot fail to profit by your conversation."

"I am extremely sorry, my young gentleman, but I can talk no longer. As I reminded you just now, the hastening night forces me to retire, for I know that my description is so well known that it is impossible for me to show myself by daylight in this costume."

"Aha! that means that you have another for the sunlight? Pardieu! you are wise, for this one is very well known. Those persons who have had dealings with you have not failed to draw your portrait. I have already heard of this olive-green robe de chambre, so to speak, and of this horrible hairy cap."

"In that case, signor, you will understand that it is time for me to disappear."

"Very well! go! what prevents you? You have been too courteous to me for me to seek to cause your arrest. No, no! that would be a downright felony on my part!"

"In that case, signor, add to your complaisance the favor of handing me your purse, and I will go at once."

"My purse!" rejoined Léodgard, with a slight contraction of his heavy eyebrows; "you shall not have it! I told you that I would keep it. But as I do not wish to have made you talk for nothing, I will give you two pretty rose crowns."

"No, my young gentleman; I cannot assent to that bargain; I have told you that I must have your purse just as it is, and have it I will!"

"Come, then, and take it!"

As he spoke, Léodgard sprang to his feet and quickly drew his sword; then he glanced at Giovanni as if to defy him. The Italian did not show the slightest excitement, but simply shook his head, murmuring:

"Oh! I knew that the young Comte Léodgard de Marvejols was a gallant youth!"

"Ah! you know me, do you?"

"Per Dio! Do I not always know those whom I address? Otherwise I should run the risk of wasting my time by attacking poor devils without a sou!"

"But you might often have found me in that condition."

"I know that too; but to-night you played lansquenet at the Sire de Jarnonville's, and luck smiled upon you; that is why I attacked you."

"Clearly, you add to your other talents that of being a sorcerer. All Italians smell of the stake!"

"I should regret extremely, signor, to resort to my weapons; surely you must have been told that that is not my habit! I must always be driven to it. But if you do not give up your purse with a good grace——"

"No, a thousand times no! Do you expect to frighten me, I wonder?"

Giovanni gave the young count hardly time to finish his sentence; he drew his broad sword, and, leaping upon his adversary with a rapidity and address which left him no time to attack, in a few seconds he had sent Léodgard's gleaming rapier flying through the air; and placing the point of his weapon against the young nobleman's breast, with his left hand he swiftly took the purse from his belt, saying, with a slight movement of the head:

"You see, my young gentleman, it was not worth while to go through so many forms!"

And in an instant the brigand had vanished.

As for Léodgard, thoroughly ashamed of his discomfiture, he stood as if stupefied, and could only mutter:

"Beaten! beaten by that Giovanni!—Ah! I will have my revenge!"

III

THE BATH KEEPERS

In the days of royal licenses, when the grocers and apothecaries formed but a single guild, it was the same with the barbers and surgeons.

In the year 1620, forty-eight patents had been granted to barbiers-baigneurs-étuvistes, who were perruquiers following the court. Later, their number was largely increased.

The right to keep hot or cold baths was specially attached to the guild of master perruquiers.

A fashionable bathing