Evening star., 1897-01-30

noisy and even more demonstrative, ap-
peared to be porters wife. The discus
sion was about some piece of bad money
which the concierge accused the fishwoman
Of having passed off on her. In a corner
sat a workman apparently asleep. 1 was
too furried to take much notice of him at
the time, but am sure now that 1t was the
man who had followed us the day before
We had to remain standing until the secre-
tary had disposed of the two women. This
took some time, because they both spoke al
once, and the young man could not take
down a definite statement from either. At
last he lost his temper, and bundled them
both out of the office, returning laughing
to his desk. He sat down and pretended to
write, leaving standing STILL At last h,
looked up and asked NJ. Montbarbon:
Whats at your service. sir?''
My husband then handed him the yellow
summons
! "Oh, yes" said the young man. giving
! me a good -stare."I know. The commits
saire will see you directly" Then he
jumped up and handed me chair. Per
haps madame will be seated he said, and
| going up to the window, began to roll a
| cigarette. Just then the door of an inner
| office, on which was painted, Cabinet du
| Commissaire.'' was opened, and an old gen.
| tleman put his head in and said, "Entrez."
| BY the time we had all entered this room
| he had got back behind his desk. into his
seat, whence he eyed us magisterially.
You can speak in English he said to
| my husband. Il speak that language"
| Then he turned to me and said, Pray be
seated"
II have come with my wife, began my
husband.
| 1.-The woman wilson," interjected
Hush, Mary" said John, with the shad-
| ow of frown. Il have come with my
wife in obedience to your summons. This
| is it,
| And so saying he laid the yellow paper
| on the magistrates desk. The commissary
took 1t up. and examined 1t with his eye
| glasses. Then, suddenly, addressing him.
! self to Nj. Montbarbon, he said: And who
| are your ! was quite delighted to see the
1 confusion with which the abashed boarding
| house keeper answered this question. His
| humility and difference contrasted strongly
| with his manner toward us on previous oc-
| casions.
! well. Mr.. Wilson, said the commissary.
| Il want to see you, to know who you
are. Have you any papers-a passport, a
certificate of identity, or other such docu-
| ment? Some doubts as to your etat civil
have risen."
| But sir how can such"-began my hus-
band.
Excuse me, SIR" said the magistrate.
"It is who have to ask questions here"
II beg your pardon, said John, far too too
plain one. Ny name is John Wilson.
am a clergyman of the Church of Eng
land, and officiate at the Church of ST.
Oswald in London, where live. This lady
is my wife. 1 have no passport, because
did not know that English people travelling
| in France reeded such document, and 90
did not provide myself with one. / have.
however. a receipt for rent from my land
| lord. Here 1t is. Also an income tax form.
! This is It, These are all the papers OF
Identification which 1 possess.
The commissary pursed his lips. and.
after examining these papers, tossed them
aside and said:
.aThese are not sufficient. You must be
| identified in more satisfactory manner
l am afraid 1 shall have to detain you un-
til this is done. Did you never travel un-
tha nf CulIivan1'
| Certainly not" said my husband, with a
laugh. AS for me. I felt more inclined to
cry We were to be detained. 1t appeared,
and all my terrors returned upon me. M.
Montbarbon, 1 noticed. had drawn away
fro m rs as though he feared to be com
promised by remaining in our proximity.
Need my wife be detained?" continued
my husband. with a very serious look on
his face. There is some absurd msun-
derstanding here. I can see, and, though
| I am quite ready to do anything to clear
1t up, I must protest against anything
likely to distress my wife"
s"Thats nonsense John" said. IF you
have to go to prison, OF course 1 shall go
with you."
'Tbere is no question of prison." said
the MAGISTRATE, 'at least not yet. The
fact Is, monsieur, we have been informed
that you and madame are not what you
alters d'industrie. of American nationality.
whose real name is Sullivan"
1--WE never were in America in our
lives" / cried
sOn what, may I ask" said my hus-
band, sis this extraordinary supposition
based?"
'It is not usual for me to answer such
questions" answered the commissary.
However. 1 do not mind telling you that
the suspicious of our informant were at
first aroused by seeing in St. Louis pa
per an article from Paris on the nefarious
doings Of the Sullivan couple. which was IL
lustrated with their portraits. These por-
traits are undoubtedly yours"
Jcbn's blank look of establishment was
50 comic that, agitated as was, I burst
out laughing.
''Tbis is the paper" said the magistrate.
''You can look at the article and the por-
. | traits"
I Jumped mp, and. holding one side of
the sheet, while John held the other. look
| ed at the column which NJ. Montbarbon