"To find me! That is not a very easy matter. I am everywhere and nowhere, like the free judges of old times. However, I think that I have chosen my place of abode in these mountains for some time. As for my name, I have no desire to tell you the name which really belongs to me; but I will tell you what the Auvergnats call me, who meet me on the roads and who are beginning to know me; they call me the tall vagabond. That is not such a sonorous name as Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, but after all it is as good a name as another. Good-night."
With that, the stranger walked away whistling, and Edouard returned to the château, thinking of the strange individual with whom he had been talking. They were awaiting Edouard to adjourn to the table. Monsieur Férulus was in despair, for fear that the soup would be cold; but Robineau was very curious to know who the man was with the knotted stick, and as soon as he espied Edouard, he cried: "Well! did you talk with him?"
"Yes, we had quite a long conversation."
"You must tell us about it."
"Cannot monsieur tell us about it at the table?" said Monsieur Férulus.
They took their seats at the table, and Edouard told the result of his conversation with the stranger.
"So he won’t enter my service?" said Robineau.
"No, he refuses."
"I am not at all sorry."
"It must be that that fellow is a little cracked," said Monsieur Férulus, "to prefer the bread of the mountaineers to Monsieur de la Roche-Noire’s cuisine."