"Lord Wilmore resided in Rue Fontaine-Saint-George. He was one of those English tourists who consume their whole fortune in traveling. He hired the apartment in which he lived furnished, passed only a few hours in the day there, and rarely slept there. One of his peculiarities was never to speak a word of French, which he, however, wrote with great purity."
The day after these important particulars had been furnished to M. le Procureur, a man alighted from a carriage at the corner of the Rue Ferou, and rapping at an olive-green door, asked if the Abbe Busoni were within.
"No, he went out early this morning," replied the valet.
"I might not always be contented with that answer," replied the visitor, "for I come from one to whom every one must be at home. But have the kindness to give the Abbé Busoni"
"I told you he was not at home!" repeated the valet.
"Then, on his return give him that card and this sealed paper. Will he be at home at eight o'clock this evening!"
"Doubtless, unless he is at work, which is the same as if he were out."
"I will come again at that time," replied the visitor, who then retired. At the appointed hour the same man returned in the same carnage, which, instead of stopping this time at the end of the Rue Ferou, drove up to the green door. He knocked, and it was opened immediately to admit him. From the signs of respect the valet paid him, he saw his note had produced a good effect.
"Is the abbé at home?" asked he.
"Yes; he is at work in his library, but he expects you, sir," replied the valet. The stranger ascended a rough staircase, and before a table, whose surface was illumined by a lamp, of which the light was concentrated by a large shade, whilst the rest of the apartment was in darkness, he perceived the abbe in a monk's dress, with a cowl on his head such as was used by learned men of the middle age.
"Have I the honor of addressing the Abbé Busoni?" asked the visitor.
"Yes, sir," replied the abbé; "and you are the person whom M. de Boville, formerly an inspector of prisons, sends to me from the prefect of police?"
"Exactly, sir."
"One of the agents appointed to secure the safety of Paris?"
"Yes, sir," replied the stranger, with a slight hesitation, and blushing.
The abbé replaced the large spectacles, which covered, not only his eyes, but his temples, and sitting down, motioned to his visitor to do the same. "I am at your service, sir," said the abbé, with a marked Italian accent.
"The mission with which I am charged, sir," replied the visitor, speaking with hesitation, "is a confidential one on the part of him who fulfills
