became a millionaire in six months, and has managed to keep his money; so if he was a fool he was no ass,—but it is not worth while to mention his name.
As for me, I had at once, as a precautionary measure, taken up my residence in the quietest quarter of the city I could find, that is to say in the Rue St. Louis in the Marais. I had not been a week in Paris,—trying the ground to make sure it was safe,—when I unexpectedly encountered an old acquaintance. The meeting made me uneasy at first, but in the end was most fortunate and useful for me. I remember (though now with pleasure and gratitude) that my first feeling at this encounter was one of fear. It was exactly like the meeting between Almaviva and the Barber of Seville. The good fellow,—whom I took for something quite different,—scanned me so closely, that I said to myself, "I have seen him somewhere."
"I am not mistaken," he said, "it is you, M. le Chevalier."
"Ah, it is you, d'O——, I answered