CHAPTER X.
THE NEXT MORNING.
"Oh, my Christian ducats!" _Merchant of Venice_.
Gone!--gone!--both gone!--my new gold watch and my purse full of notes and Napoleons! I rang the bell furiously.

It was answered by a demure-looking waiter, with a face like a parroquet.
"Does Monsieur please to require anything ?" "Require anything!" I exclaimed, in the best French I could muster.

"I have been robbed!" "Robbed, Monsieur ?" "Yes, of my watch and purse!" "_Tiens_! Of a watch and purse ?" repeated the parroquet, lifting his eyebrows with an air of well-bred surprise.

"_C'est drole."_ "Droll!" I cried, furiously.

"Droll, you scoundrel! I'll let you know whether I think it droll! I'll complain to the authorities! I'll have the house searched! I'll--I'll...." I rang the bell again.