his little yellow nose with a pinch of rappee, after which ceremonial
he leaned back at his ease, resting his chin in his hand and regarding
me fixedly during the whole of my strange recital. When I had finished
speaking he sat silent a few minutes, and then resumed, in his queer
broken manner:

"What I am going to tell you I would not tell to any man who had
not done what you have done, and seen what you saw last night.
Mon Dieu! it is strange you should have been at that house last
night of all nights in the year,--the 22nd of December!"

He seemed to make this reflection rather to himself than to me,
and presently continued, taking a small key from a pocket in his
vest as he spoke:

"Do you understand French well, monsieur?"

"Excellently well," returned I with alacrity; "a great part of
my business correspondence is conducted in French, and I speak and
hear it every day of my life."

He smiled pleasantly in reply, rose from his seat, and, unlocking
with the key he held a small drawer in a chest that stood beside
the chimney-piece, took out of it a roll of manuscript and a cigar.

"Monsieur," said he, offering me the latter, "let me recommend this,
if you care to smoke so early in the day. I always prefer rappee,
but you, doubtless, have younger tastes."

Having thus provided for my comfort, the old priest reseated himself,