"Do not bother about that," responded the honest fellow; "I never feel dull; besides, I will get in a supply of something to feed on and I will kill time by eating."
"A good method," laughed Gilbert; "only you must not eat dry bread as a matter of health, but wash it down with good wine."
"I will get a bottle, and some head cheese, too," replied Pitou.
"Bravo!" exclaimed the physician.
Pitou found Sebastian in the Louis-the-Great College, in the gardens. He was a winsome young man of eighteen, or less, with handsome chestnut curls enframing his melancholy and thoughtful face and blue eyes darting juvenile glances like a Spring sun.
In him were combined the lofty aspirations of two aristocracies: that of the intellect, as embodied in his father, and of race, personified in Andrea Countess of Charny, who had become his mother while unconscious in a mesmeric sleep, induced by Balsamo-Cagliostro, but perceived by Gilbert, who had not in his wild passion for the beauty been able to shrink from profiting by the trance.
It was to the countess's that Gilbert had suggested his son should go.
On the way Pitou laid in the provisions to fill up time if he had to wait any great while in the hack for the youth to come out of his mother's.
As the countess was at home, the janitor made no opposition to a well-dressed young gentleman entering.