"I did not know that. You see how ignorant I am," sighed Gilbert.
These sighs summed up the disappointments and repressed ambition of the youth.
"That is the goodman Labrie coming," said the latter at the sound of footsteps within.
The door opened, but at the sight of the stranger the old servant wanted to slam it.
"Excuse me, friend," interposed the traveler; "don't shut the door in my face. I will risk my travel-stained garb, and I warrant you that I shall not be expelled before I have warmed myself and had a meal. I hear you keep good wine, eh? You ought to know that?"
Labrie tried still to resist, but the other was determined and led the horses right in with the coach, while Gilbert closed the gates in a trice. Vanquished, the servant ran to announce his own defeat. He rushed toward the house, shouting:
"Nicole Legay!"
"Nicole is Mademoiselle Andrea's maid," explained the boy, as the gentleman advanced with his usual tranquility.
A light appeared among the shrubbery, showing a pretty girl.
"What is all this riot; what's wanted of me?" she challenged.