“Hardly had Joseph stepped outside, when another man seized him—­a tall, dark fellow.  ‘I’ve been watching for you,’ he said to Joseph.  ’You were present when the murder was committed in the Rue Montorgueil!’ ’Why, no, I was not present——­’ ‘That will do.  I am well informed, come.’  ‘Where to?’ ‘To my newspaper office.’  ‘What for?’ ‘To tell me about the murder.’  ’But I’ve already told all I know, there, in that house.’  ’Come, you will still remember a few more little incidents—­and I will give you twenty francs.’  ‘Twenty francs!’ ‘Come, come.’  Another hall, another table, more young men writing, and again Joseph was interrogated.  He recommenced the history of the old Colonel.  ‘Is that what you told them down there?’ inquired the tall, dark man of Joseph.  ‘Yes, Monsieur.’  ’That needs some revision, then.’  And the tall, dark man made up a long story.  How this old Colonel had been paralyzed for fourteen years, but on hearing the victim’s heartrending screams, received such a shock that all at once, as if by a miracle, had recovered the use of his legs; and it was he who had started out in pursuit of the murderer and had him arrested.

“While dashing this off with one stroke of his pen, the man exclaimed:  ‘Good! this is perfect! a hundred times better than the other account.’  ‘Yes,’ said Joseph, ‘but it is not true.’  ’Not true for you, because you are acquainted with the affair; but for our hundred thousand readers, who do not know about it, it will be true enough.  They were not there, those hundred thousand readers.  What do they want?  A striking account—­well! they shall have it!’ And thereupon he discharged Joseph, who went home with his forty francs, and who naturally did not boast of his escapade.  It is only of late that he has acknowledged it.  However, from that day Joseph has shown less interest in the pharmacy.  He bought a number of penny papers, and shut himself up in his room to write—­no one knows what.  At last he wore a business-like aspect, which was very funny.  About six months ago I went to Paris to collect the dividends on my Northern stock.”

“The Northern is doing very well; it went up this week——­”

“Oh! it’s good stock.  Well, I had collected my dividends and had left the Northern Railway Station.  It was beautiful weather, so I walked slowly down the Rue Lafayette. (I have a habit of strolling a little in Paris after I have collected my dividends.) When at the corner of the Faubourg Montmartre, whom should I see but my nephew, Joseph, all alone in a victoria, playing the fine gentleman.  I saw very well that he turned his head away, the vagabond!  But I overtook the carriage and stopped the driver.  ‘What are you doing there?’ ‘A little drive, uncle.’  ’Wait, I will go with you,’ and in I climbed.  ‘Hurry up,’ said the driver, ’or I’ll lose the trail.’  ‘What trail?’ ‘Why, the two cabs we are following.’  The man drove at a furious rate, and I asked Joseph why he was there in that victoria, following two cabs.