"Do I!" said the vain Monsieur Margot, with an iron expression of
satisfaction; "if that is the case, I will mind it less; but may I return
by the door?"

"Yes," replied the lady; "you see that I do not require too much from
your devotion--enter."

"Behold me!" said the French master, inserting his body into the basket,
which immediately began to descend.

The hour and the police of course made the street empty; the lady's
handkerchief waved in token of encouragement and triumph. When the basket
was within five yards of the ground, Mrs. Green cried to her lover, who
had hitherto been elevating his serious countenance towards her, in
sober, yet gallant sadness--"Look, look, Monsieur--straight before you."

The lover turned round, as rapidly as his habits would allow him, and at
that instant the window was shut, the light extinguished, and the basket
arrested. There stood Monsieur Margot, upright in the basket, and there
stopped the basket, motionless in the air.

What were the exact reflections of Monsieur Margot, in that position, I
cannot pretend to determine, because he never favoured me with them; but
about an hour afterwards, Vincent and I (who had been delayed on the
road), strolling up the street, according to our appointment, perceived,
by the dim lamps, some opaque body leaning against the wall of Madame
Laurent's house, at about the distance of fifteen feet from the ground.

We hastened our steps towards it; a measured and serious voice, which I
well knew, accosted us--"For God's sake, gentlemen, procure me