This individual was for this evening the fourth member of the usually so exclusive confederacy of three.
"Bon soir," said Florian, as they entered the bar-room. He received a kindly welcome at all hands. The assembled guests scanned him from head to foot, and nodded to each other with looks that seemed to say, "A fine fellow, Florian; yes, if you want to come home you must go abroad first."
One who sat behind the stove said to his neighbor, "This is a better way to come back than that thief Schlunkel's: he's been twice to the penitentiary, and has just come back. I wish we were rid of him again."
Florian ordered a bottle of wine for himself and his comrades, while Josey was regaled with a mug of beer at an adjoining table.
When Babbett brought the refreshments, he remarked, in an under-tone, but yet loud enough to be heard by all, "Comme elle est jolie!--bien jolie!"
"Qui?" returned the College Chap. The company nudged each other,--to think they could talk French so well together.
Florian treated the whole company,--to their great satisfaction, for, though frequenters of the tavern, they sat there as dry customers: the stimulus made their hearts glad, and the sensation was reflected upon the spirits of Florian. He seemed to have expended his stock of French; for "Snuff the chandelle" is not pure Parisian.
The point of the joke was lost, nevertheless; for the geometer, who put up at the Eagle, was not there.
"Are you going to stay with us, Florian?" asked Babbett.
"Nous verrons: we shall see."