[Illustration: The pursuit was lively, but short.]
He was noiseless in his pumps, and coming quietly round a clump of
shrubs, he caught Mr. Arthur Courtnay in the act of trying to kiss
Madame de Belle-Ile with a fervour only justified by the most romantic
attachment.
"Oh!" said Tinker reproachfully; and even more reproachfully he began
to sing:
"Coupez vos cheveux! Coupez vos cheveux!"
With an execration which was by no means muttered, Mr. Arthur Courtnay
sprang up. Tinker darted away, and Courtnay followed. They pelted
through the gardens, Courtnay gaining; but as he passed a couple of
gendarmes standing in front of the Casino, Tinker yelled: "Gare le
voyou! Gare le voyou!" Instinctively the gendarmes flung themselves
before Courtnay, and his impetus brought the three of them to the
ground with some violence.
With one fleeting glance behind, Tinker scudded on to the hotel, and
once safely in his room abandoned himself without restraint to
convulsions of inextinguishable delight. When he recovered his
habitual calm, he saw that Fortune had given him a weapon with which he
might save his cousin.
Mr. Arthur Courtnay and the gendarmes picked themselves up; he made his
explanations, and wisely compensated them for the bruises they had
received in his fall.
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