"Plumard shall have his pomade, and I my gold piece."
The two clerks accosted each other, each with a most amusing expression.
"Well, friend Plumard, did you do my errand? did you deliver the white plume?"
"Yes, to be sure; I put it into Master Landry's own hands."
"How did he take the thing?"
"In very bad part, and at one time I thought he was going to treat me shamefully; luckily, I ran away in time.—But I would not undertake such a commission again! it was too dangerous!"
"And for that reason you shall be handsomely paid!" said Bahuchet, taking from his pocket the little jar in which he had placed his vile mixture.
Plumard's face beamed; his hand was already put forth to grasp the little jar, but Bahuchet pushed it away, saying:
"One minute; how about my gold piece?"
"Oh! of course, I will return it to you; I ask nothing better; I much prefer this jar!"