"Well, you're right; I suppose he might take offence at it."
"Don't you think you had much better go and find the person who brought her here, and tell him that monsieur has not come?"
"No, my dear Marcel; Touquet told me to wait here for the marquis' orders, and I must follow his instructions. If he does not come for a fortnight, it's all the same to me; I shall not leave this. You have a good cellar and plenty of provisions of all kinds, and I find it very comfortable here; only, I must go out and get some cards for the coming night, and I'll teach you some tricks which you don't understand."
"All right, I'll go and get our breakfast ready; then I'll go and inquire whether the young lady wants anything."
"That will do; meanwhile I'll take a turn in the garden and make the acquaintance of your Hercules."
Chaudoreille arranged his mantle, put on his new ruff, which he had bought by chance, which pleased him greatly because it came up to his ears. He brushed up his hat, curled his hair anew, and went into the garden whistling,—
| Viens Aurore, |
| Je t'implore; |
a song which good King Henri had brought into fashion. He paused with an air of defiance before the statues, and made a grimace at those which had frightened him the evening before.
At the end of the pathway he perceived Julia, seated in a thicket which, as yet, was devoid of foliage. The young girl was deep in thought, and had not heard him approach. Chaudoreille reflected, uncertain whether he should approach her or whether he should pass on his way. He concluded to do the first, and drew near her, holding his left hand on his hip, and, throwing his body back, already beginning to smile. Julia raised her luminous eyes; but, on recognizing Chaudoreille, a look of humor flashed over her features, and she said sharply,—
"What do you want with me?"