Old Lecamus was looking at his son with ironical amusement.
"And he wants to set a poor boy on horseback whose knees and ankles were pounded up for him!" cried the mother. "What a shameful mockery!"
"I do not seem to see you as a Councillor in Navarre," said the old furrier.
"I should like to know what Queen Catherine would do for me if I petitioned her," said Christophe, much crest-fallen.
"She made no promises," said the old merchant, "but I am sure she would not make a fool of you, and would remember your sufferings. Still, how could she make a councillor-at-law of a Protestant citizen?"
"But Christophe has never abjured!" exclaimed Babette. "He may surely keep his own secret as to his religious opinions."
"The Prince de Condé would be less scornful of a Councillor to the Parlement of Paris," said Lecamus.
"A Councillor, father! Is it possible?"
"Yes, if you do nothing to upset what I am managing for you. My neighbor Lallier here is ready to pay two hundred thousand livres, if I add as much again, for the purchase of a fine estate entailed on the heirs male, which we will hand over to you."
"And I will add something more for a house in Paris," said Lallier.