Wilkie's hat fell on the window-sill, slipped off,
and dropped on to the pavement below. With a natural impulse
Chupin picked it up, and he was turning it over and over in his
hands, when M. Wilkie leant out of the window and shouted in a
voice that was thick with wine: "Halloo! Eh, there! Who picked up
my hat? Honesty shall be rewarded. A glass of champagne and a
cigar for the fellow who'll bring it me in room No. 6."
Chupin hesitated. By going up, he might, perhaps, compromise the
success of his mission. But on the other hand his curiosity was
aroused, and he very much wished to see, with his own eyes, how
these young men were amusing themselves. Besides, he would have
an opportunity of examining this handsome viscount, whom he was
certain he had met before, though he could not tell when or where.
In the meantime, M. Wilkie had perceived him.
"Come, you simpleton!" he cried; "make haste. You can't be very
thirsty."
The thought of the viscount decided Chupin. Entering the
restaurant and climbing the staircase, he had just reached the
landing when a pale-looking man, who had a smoothly-shaven face
and was dressed in black, barred his way and asked: "What do you
want?"
"M'sieur, here's a hat which fell from one of your windows and----"
"All right, hand it here."
But Chupin did not seem to hear this order. He was beginning a
long explanation, when a curtain near by was pushed aside, and M.
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