Frederick cast a scrutinising glance at him. With his shabby frock-coat, his spectacles of rough glass, and his sallow face, that advocate seemed to him such a typical specimen of the penniless pedant that he could not prevent his lips from curling with a disdainful smile.
Deslauriers perceived this, and reddened.
He had already taken his hat to leave. Hussonnet, filled with uneasiness, tried to mollify him with appealing looks, and, as Frederick was turning his back on him:
"Look here, my boy, become my Mæcenas! Protect the arts!"
Frederick, with an abrupt movement of resignation, took a sheet of paper, and, having scrawled some lines on it, handed it to him. The Bohemian's face lighted up.
Then, passing across the sheet of paper to Deslauriers:
"Apologise, my fine fellow!"
Their friend begged his notary to send him fifteen thousand francs as quickly as possible.
"Ah! I recognise you in that," said Deslauriers.
"On the faith of a gentleman," added the Bohemian, "you are a noble fellow, you'll be placed in the gallery of useful men!"