one day, "we shall soon catch that vagabond; there is our lieutenant (M. Dumortier, now commissary of police at Abbeville) who wants him too much not to catch him soon; I will bet that he would give a day's pay to get hold of him."
"If I were your lieutenant, and wanted to take Vidocq," replied I, "I would contrive that he should not escape me."
"You! Oh yes, you and everybody! He is always completely armed. You know they said that he fired twice at Delrue and Carpentier; and that is not all, for he can change himself into a bundle of hay whenever he likes."
"A bundle of hay!" cried I, surprised at the novel endowment assigned to me—"A bundle of hay! How?"
"Yes, sir; my father pursued him one day; and at the moment he laid his hand upon his collar, he found that he only held a handful of hay. He did not only say it, but all the brigade saw the bundle of hay, which was burnt in the barrack-yard."
I could not make out this history; but learnt afterwards that the police-officers, not being able to lay hold of me, had given circulation to this tale amongst the credulous citizens of Arras. With the same motive they obligingly insinuated that I was the double of a certain loup-garou, whose wonderful appearances froze with fear the superstitious inhabitants of the country. Fortunately, these terrors were not shared by some pretty women, whom I had interested in my favour; and if the demon of jealousy had not suddenly seized on one of the number, the authorities would not perhaps have given themselves so much trouble about me. In her anger she was indiscreet; and the police, who did not clearly know what had become of me, again learnt that I was certainly in Arras.
One evening, as, without mistrust and only armed with a stick, I was returning through the Rue d'Amiens, on crossing the bridge at the end of the Rue des
