serious issue began, imperceptibly at the time, in the veriest
trifle.

One day, while the King was still absent from Paris, I had a mind
to play tennis, and for that purpose summoned La Trape, who had
the charge of my balls, and sometimes, in the absence of better
company, played with me. Of late the balls he bought had given
me small satisfaction, and I bade him bring me the bag, that I
might choose the best. He did so, and I had not handled half-a-
dozen before I found one, and later three others, so much more
neatly sewn than the rest, and in all points so superior, that
even an untrained eye could not fail to detect the difference.

"Look, man!" I said, holding out one of these for his
inspection. "These are balls; the rest are rubbish. Cannot you
see the difference? Where did you buy these? At Constant's?"

He muttered, "No, my lord," and looked confused.

This roused my curiosity. "Where, then?" I said sharply.

"Of a man who was at the gate yesterday."

"Oh!" I said. "Selling tennis balls?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Some rogue of a marker," I exclaimed, "from whom you bought
filched goods! Who was it, man?"