lieve me, than falling into the Catacombs. I beg you to glance at this little plan.'
"He handed me the leaf from his pocket-book, on which I saw the following:
"He sneezed twice.
"'Oh, you have a cold,' said I, taking the paper.
"'Yes; I have had a bad cold since taking a somewhat long stroll one rainy night on the roofs of Gerando Street,' he said.
"I advised him not to neglect it. I must say that this quiet and natural conversation between two men in the depths of the Catacombs, a few minutes after their recovery from such an unexpected fall, gave me infinite pleasure. Having considered the lines on the paper, I asked the explanation of them; and M. Longuet told me the story of the disappearance of an express train and of the reappearance of a railway-carriage, which was by far the most fantastic I had ever heard. This man had desired to make an express dis-
