"Another person, to whom you were to take me."
"I don't know what you mean," returned Maître Pascal, unable to conceal the impatience he felt at what he supposed to be an unpardonable piece of heedlessness on Michel's part.
Courtin, noticing his annoyance, saw that he had gone too far; but it was dangerous to beat too rapid a retreat.
"Come," said Pascal, "will you, or will you not tell me what you are here for? I have no time to waste."
"Bless me! I don't know what to do, my good gentleman," said Courtin. "I love my young master enough to jump into the fire for him. When he says to me 'do this' or 'do that,' I always try to execute his orders just as he gives them, so as to deserve his confidence; and he did not tell me to give his message to you."
"What is your name, my good man?"
"Courtin, at your service."
"What parish do you belong to?"
"La Logerie."
Maître Pascal took up a note-book, and looked it over for a few moments; then he fixed an investigating and distrustful eye on Courtin.