He placed himself so as to see and hear what was going on. Opposite to him, in the middle of his son's room, stood a man of about the age of M. d'Herbois, gray-headed, with a sharp and crafty expression of countenance, and person enveloped in a large farmer's riding-coat.
'My dear Peter,' said this person, 'listen to me——'
'Peter?' replied d'Herbois junior; 'you are mistaken, Sir; my name is Gustavus.'
'I am not mistaken, for all that,' continued the stranger; 'listen to me, I entreat you, my good Sir; I am about to communicate a piece of news which fills me with joy; my only fear, (and I confess it is a natural one,) is that it will not give you as much pleasure.'
'Go on, Sir,' said Gustavus; 'nothing that is agreeable to an honest man can give me pain; speak out.'
The man, whose presence singularly annoyed M. d'Herbois, deliberately took a seat, and commenced thus:
'You know, my good Sir, that it is now about twenty years since Madame d'Herbois gave birth to a son. On account of the weak state of her health, she was not able to afford him nourishment herself. A nurse was sought for, and it was my wife, Margaret Pithou, of Pontoise, who was selected.'
'Ah! you are then my foster-father,' cried Gustavus, with open arms; 'walk in, walk in; my father and mother will be delighted to see you.'
'Softly! softly!' said Pithou; 'neither Monsieur nor Madame d'Herbois must know that I am here, or have spoken with you, until we have had a little explanation together, and you know all.'
'Until I know all! What is it, then, Monsieur Pithou? Pray go on,' said Gustavus, impatiently.