box. Fearing lest he might examine the combination I led the way into my
study. Louis threw himself on the sofa and flicked at flies with his
eternal riding-whip. He wore his fatigue uniform with the braided jacket
and jaunty cap, and I noticed that his riding-boots were all splashed
with red mud.

"Where have you been?" I inquired.

"Jumping mud creeks in Jersey," he said. "I haven't had time to change
yet; I was rather in a hurry to see you. Haven't you got a glass of
something? I'm dead tired; been in the saddle twenty-four hours."

I gave him some brandy from my medicinal store, which he drank with a
grimace.

"Damned bad stuff," he observed. "I'll give you an address where they
sell brandy that is brandy."

"It's good enough for my needs," I said indifferently. "I use it to rub
my chest with." He stared and flicked at another fly.

"See here, old fellow," he began, "I've got something to suggest to you.
It's four years now that you've shut yourself up here like an owl, never
going anywhere, never taking any healthy exercise, never doing a damn
thing but poring over those books up there on the mantelpiece."

He glanced along the row of shelves. "Napoleon, Napoleon, Napoleon!" he
read. "For heaven's sake, have you nothing but Napoleons there?"

"I wish they were bound in gold," I said. "But wait, yes, there is