“You have a trade?”
“No. I came to Paris to admire civilization and study life.”
“Study life!” said the clerk, who was inclined to be humorous. “He is not a physician.”
The magistrate was lost in conjectures.
“What is your father’s business?” he inquired.
“My father, sir, lives at the Capelette. His chief employment is to seek where truth and falsehood are to be found.”
“Be so kind as to accompany me,” said the functionary, dryly, making a sign to the crowd to stand aside and let them pass.
Eusebe bowed without replying, and walked along beside the commissary, which allowed him to hear the clerk say to his superior,—
“The poor fellow is stark mad.”
To which the magistrate replied,—