When he reached Bobichel, who was still in his frog attitude, the clown gave a flourish with his leg and his foot, quite by accident of course, knocking off Robeccal's hat.
"Look out!" cried Robeccal.
"Oh! a thousand pardons," answered Bobichel, "I did not see you!"
"Didn't you! Well! little Caillette saw me, and ran away, as if the devil were coming."
"A girl's nonsense. Never mind her. I am glad she has gone. The truth is, these people are putting on airs, and I don't like it."
Robeccal was no fool, and these words inspired him with suspicion. "Does he want me to talk?" he said to himself. And he was right in this idea.
"And as for Fanfar!" continued Bobichel, now standing on his feet.
"And what of him? You are as intimate as possible with Fanfar?"
Bobichel, with a sagacious nod, replied, "Of course I am, he is the master's favorite, but all the same I am not pleased with him. He eats our bread, and what does he do?"
"He adds to the success of the entertainments."