"H-my young friend," said the patriarch, turning toward Joseph with a tremendous frown, "when I, Agricola Fusilier, pronounce you a professor, you are a professor. Louisiana will not look to you for your credentials; she will look to me!"
He stumbled upon some slight impediment under foot. There were times when it took but little to make Agricola stumble.
Looking to see what it was, Joseph picked up a silken purse. There was a name embroidered on it.
CHAPTER XI
SUDDEN FLASHES OF LIGHT
The day was nearly gone. The company that had been chatting at the front door, and which in warmer weather would have tarried until bedtime, had wandered off; however, by stepping toward the light the young merchant could decipher the letters on the purse. Citizen Fusilier drew out a pair of spectacles, looked over his junior's shoulder, read aloud, "Aurore De G. Nanca--," and uttered an imprecation.
"Do not speak to me!" he thundered; "do not approach me! she did it maliciously!"
"Sir!" began Frowenfeld.
But the old man uttered another tremendous malediction and hurried into the street and away.