under the serious disadvantage of being personally known to him.  He went accordingly to look up his friend, Jacquemin Lampourde by name, who lodged not very far from the Pont-Neuf, and was lucky enough to find him at home, sleeping off the effects of his last carouse.  He awoke him with some difficulty, and was violently abused for his pains.  Then, having quietly waited until his friend’s first fury was exhausted, he announced that he had come to consult with him on important business, having an excellent job to intrust to him, and begging that he would be good enough to listen to what he had to say.

“I never listen to anybody when I am drunk,” said Jacquemin Lampourde, majestically, putting his elbow on his knee as he spoke, and resting his head on his hand—­“and besides, I have plenty of money—­any quantity of gold pieces.  We plundered a rich English lord last night, who was a walking cash-box, and I am a gentleman of wealth just at present.  However, one evening at lansquenet may swallow it all up.  I can’t resist gambling you know, and I’m deuced unlucky at it, so I will see you to-night about this little matter of yours.  Meet me at the foot of the bronze statue on the Pont-Neuf at midnight.  I shall be as fresh and bright as a lark by that time, and ready for anything.  You shall give me your instructions then, and we will agree upon my share of the spoils.  It should be something handsome, for I have the vanity to believe that no one would come and disturb a fellow of my calibre for any insignificant piece of business.  But after all I am weary of playing the thief and pickpocket—­it is beneath me—­and I mean to devote all my energies in future to the noble art of assassination; it is more worthy of my undisputed prowess.  I would rather be a grand, man-slaying lion than any meaner beast of prey.  If this is a question of killing I am your man—­but one thing more, it must be a fellow who will defend himself.  Our victims are so apt to be cowardly, and give in without a struggle—­it is no better than sticking a pig—­and that I cannot stand, it disgusts me.  A good manly resistance, the more stubborn the better, gives a pleasant zest to the task.”

“You may rest easy on that score,” Mirindol replied, with a malicious smile; “you will find a tough customer to handle, I promise you.”

“So much the better,” said Lampourde, “for it is a long time since I have found an adversary worth crossing swords with.  But enough of this for the present.  Good-bye to you, and let me finish my nap.”

But he tried in vain to compose himself to sleep again, and, after several fruitless efforts, gave it up as a bad job; then began to shake a companion, who had slept soundly on the floor under the table during the preceding discussion, and when he had succeeded in rousing him, both went off to a gaming-house, where lansquenet was in active progress.  The company was composed of thieves, cut-throats, professional bullies, ruffians of every sort, lackeys, and low fellows of various callings, and a few well-to-do, unsophisticated bourgeois, who had been enticed in there—­unfortunate pigeons, destined to be thoroughly plucked.  Lampourde, who played recklessly, had soon lost all his boasted wealth, and was left with empty pockets.  He took his bad luck with the utmost philosophy.