your wife, gives the Purple Emperor's entire collection to the city of Paris?"
I nodded.
"Without accepting anything for it?"
"It is a gift," I said.
"Including the purple emperor there in the case? That butterfly is worth a great deal of money," persisted Le Bihan.
"You don't suppose that we would wish to sell that specimen, do you?" I answered a trifle sharply.
"If I were you I should destroy it," said the mayor in his high-pitched voice.
"That would he nonsense," said I—"like your burying the brass cylinder and scroll yesterday."
"It was not nonsense," said Le Bihan doggedly, "and I should prefer not to discuss the subject of the scroll."
I looked at Max Fortin, who immediately avoided my eyes.
"You are a pair of superstitious old women," said I, digging my hands into my pockets; "you swallow every nursery tale that is invented."
"What of it?" said Le Bihan sulkily; "there's more truth than lies in most of 'em."
"Oh!" I sneered, "does the Mayor of St. Gildas and St. Julien believe in the Loup-garou?"
"No, not in the Loup-garou."
