The monks continued to arrive, till it seemed as if half Paris had taken the frock.
“There must be something extraordinary to-night,” thought Chicot. “I will go and find Gorenflot at the Corne d’Abondance; he will be at supper.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
BROTHER GORENFLOT.
To the beautiful day had succeeded a beautiful evening, only, as the day had been cold, the evening was still colder. It was one of those frosts which make the lights in the windows of an hotel look doubly tempting. Chicot first entered the dining-room, and looked around him, but not finding there the man he sought for, went familiarly down to the kitchen. The master of the establishment was superintending a frying-pan full of whitings. At the sound of Chicot’s step he turned.
“Ah! it is you, monsieur,” said he, “good evening, and a good appetite to you.”
“Thanks for the wish, but you know I cannot bear to eat alone.”
“If necessary, monsieur, I will sup with you.”
“Thanks, my dear host, but though I know you to be an excellent companion, I seek for some one else.”