lottery company. Fifi, or rather Cartouche for her, named a day a whole month from the day of the lottery drawing. They were both frightened at the prospect of Fifi's receiving the money.
She and Cartouche resumed their life exactly as it had been before number 1313 was purchased. Cartouche, going about attending to his business as usual, thought his head would crack. At the end of the month, what was to be done? He was but little more experienced than Fifi when it came to a hundred thousand francs. Fifi must find another and a very different home—but where? She must be married—but when and how and to whom? He knew of no one of whom he could ask advice, except one, and he was not easy to reach—the Emperor. Cartouche was as certain as he was of being alive, that if he could see his Emperor, and could tell the whole story, a way out of all his perplexities could be found. He had a shadowy hope that the Emperor might have discovered something about Fifi, according to that mysterious hint he gave the memorable night when he heard her name, but it did not materialize.
At last Cartouche formed the desperate resolve of trying to see the Emperor and telling all his
