"Ah! Monsieur de Carvajal, so I am occupying your place now!—Who knows? perhaps you would be very happy now to live in a little room under the eaves; for in this world, when one goes up, we frequently see others come down, and vice versa.—Oh! but I will find this mysterious Spaniard! From all I have been able to judge, he knows that little Miretta; I believe him to be my rival with the little brunette. A grandee of Spain, in love with a chambermaid—that is rather extraordinary! But, after all, I sigh for that girl, and I am the equal of the grandest of Spanish grandees."

Popelinette returned with two waiters from the wine shop, bringing dishes and bottles. In a short time, a dinner fit for Gargantua was spread before Passedix; but the newly made heir seemed not at all alarmed when he saw the contents of the dishes that were served him; and from the way in which he attacked them one might fairly presume that he would reach the end of them.

Passedix had already put away half of his repast, and was attacking the second half, when Popelinette, the old servant, who had become as courteous as her mistress, came in with repeated reverences and informed him that Monsieur Bahuchet and his comrade, Monsieur Plumard, had arrived, and wished to speak with him.

"Very good! I know what they are here for!" cried Passedix; "they have brought new clothes, in the latest style.—Usher these young men into my presence; I will choose such things as seem worthy of my person, and it will not prevent my finishing my dinner!"

Before we introduce the solicitor's two clerks, let us see what had happened between them as a result of the delicate commission which one had intrusted to the other.

XXXIII
BAHUCHET'S POMADE

We have seen in what fashion Master Landry treated young Plumard, whom he had taken for a lover of his daughter.

We know, too, that little Bahuchet, having betaken himself to a wine shop with the purpose of regaling himself there, had found means to obtain a thrashing from Master Hugonnet, to whom he had applied for some pomade which would make the hair grow. As in those days hair dressers employed neither bear's grease nor lion's flesh, the bath keeper had taken the young clerk's request in very ill part. Bahuchet had returned home sorely vexed because he had been beaten, but even more dissatisfied because he had obtained no pomade; for he was most solicitous to recover possession of the gold piece that he had given to his comrade Plumard, and which the latter had promised to return to him on receipt of the precious cosmetic that was to restore to the nape of his neck the shade which it had lost.

"After all," said Bahuchet to himself, the next morning, "as that brute of a barber would not give me any pomade, pardieu! I will make some myself! And who knows! perhaps it will be better for the head than all the infernal drugs that the wigmakers rub into our hair."

After having considered some time what he could make it of, the little clerk took some gum, mustard, pitch, starch, and molasses, and with all of these he compounded a solid paste which gave forth a not very sweet odor, but which clung so persistently to the hands that it was extremely difficult to free them from it. He filled a small jar with this substance, wrapped it in a paper, put his seal upon it, and walked proudly to the office, saying to himself: