On the morrow of the day that he had passed with Monsieur de Merval, the count in the morning informed his servant that they would go to Paris about noon.
Pongo began at once to make his preparations, which consisted, first of all, in stuffing Carabi with cake and bits of meat, in order, he said, that the cat might not commit larceny during his absence and so call for punishment.
The mulatto had hardly finished with his friend Carabi, and was about to beat flonflon, which was the name he gave to his master's travelling coat, when Georget passed him.
"What are you doing there, Pongo?" said the young man, stopping.
"Me beat flonflon, Monsieur Georget, me make flonflon very fine and clean; him like to be beaten, for him go to Paris!"
"What? are you going to Paris, Pongo?"
"Yes, me go with master, he tell me we go soon, at noon; you hear, flonflon?—There! oh! you be all clean!"
"You say that Monsieur Malberg is going to Paris to-day?"
"Yes, Monsieur Georget, with me; he take me, so me put on Mina, my pretty new cap."
Georget stayed to hear no more, but set about searching the house for the count; at last he found him seated under a lilac bush, where as usual he seemed to be deep in meditation.