If they had only been tenants one could be proud of; but no! The family consisted of an athlete who called himself Firejaws; his daughter Caillette, a tight-rope dancer, a clown called Mario, and a young acrobat, Fanfaro. Every day the troupe performed on the Place du Chateau d'Eau, and, besides this, people visited the house under the pretence of taking lessons from Fanfaro in parlor magic.
These visitors, strange to say, looked very respectable; most of them appeared to be old soldiers. They certainly had no need to learn magic.
The large hall was filled to the last seat, and the waiters ran here and there with dishes, when an elegant equipage drove up and immediately afterward the stentorian voice of the landlord cried:
"Jean, the gentlemen who have ordered room No. 11 have arrived. Conduct them upstairs."
The gentlemen were the Vicomte de Talizac, Arthur de Montferrand and Fernando de Velletri. Jean led them to the room, and began to set the table.
"Tell me, Frederic," began Arthur, as he threw himself lazily in a chair, "how you got the idea of inviting us to this hole for dinner?"
The waiter threw an angry look at Arthur, who had dared to call the Golden Calf a hole.
"My dear Arthur," said the vicomte, coldly, "have patience yet a while. It is not my fashion to speak about my affairs in the presence of servants."
Jean hastily drew back, and only the thought of losing his tip prevailed upon him to serve his customers.
"Now we are alone," said Arthur, "and we'll finally find out all about it—"