At the moment the cook pronounced these rash words the majordomo, called by the sound of the bell, entered.
"Pablo," said the canon, "open the kitchen to this man, and lay a cover for me. Justice must be done."
"But, sir, this morning—"
"Do as I tell you, conduct M. Appetite to the kitchen, and if he has need of help, let some one help him."
"I have need of no one, sir, I am accustomed to work alone in my laboratory. I ask of you permission to shut myself in."
"Have all that you wish, my dear friend, but may I be for ever damned for my sins if I swallow a mouthful of what you are going to serve me. I understand myself, I think, and there is really an overweening pride in you—"
"It is half-past eleven, my lord," said the cook, interrupting Dom Diégo, with majesty; "when the clock strikes noon you will breakfast."
And the artist went out, accompanied by the majordomo.
CHAPTER VII.
After the disappearance of M. Appetite, this strange cook who offered his services with such superb assurance, the canon, left alone, said to himself, as he rose painfully from his chair and walked to and fro with agitation: