- range for Fifi; and then, Cartouche, how about a
husband for her?"
The Emperor, as he said this, looked steadily at Cartouche; but Cartouche, looking back as steadily, replied:
"I should think the Holy Father would arrange that, your Majesty."
"True," replied the Emperor, "but I wish one of my deserving young officers might suit the Holy Father as Fifi's husband. I say, Cartouche, how hard life is sometimes! Now, because Fifi is rich through the lottery ticket you bought her, you can never hope to marry her."
"Oh, your Majesty, that could not have been in any event," answered Cartouche, a dull red showing through his dark skin. "I am sixteen years older than Fifi, and I have a stiff leg, and although I make what is reckoned a good living for a man like me, it is not the sort of living for a notary's daughter like Fifi. No, your Majesty; I love Fifi, but I never thought to make her my wife. She deserves a better man than I am."
"Another sort of a man, Cartouche, but not a better one," replied the Emperor, gently tweaking
