"Obtain an order of the Judge upon me to add the required paragraphs to my deed."
"Here are your fifty livres."
"I thank you, sir," and, so saying, d'Aguilhe put his quill behind his ear and showed them politely to the door.
Germain and his father—the father arrayed by Madame in his best black coat—set, therefore, off for Montreal. They crossed the ferry near Répentigny church, and drove through open country along the riverside till, as evening drew on, they came in sight of the walls, the citadel hill, the enchanting suburban estates and green Mount Royal in the background, which denoted the city.
They drew up in the court of a bustling inn, stabled their horse, went to bed, and the next morning sought the house of a celebrated advocate, the great Rottot. The great Rottot was chiefly known for his imposing proportions, and no sight was thought so beautiful by the habitants as that of his black silk leg, as, with his robe fluttering out in the breezes, he seemed to be flying from his office across the street to the court-house, followed by a bevy of clients.
He listened, standing, to the respectful request of Lecour, helped out in his explanations by Germain, who desired to have the pleader obtain for them the requisite order of the Judge.
"Ah," said he, "I see, gentlemen, you do not appreciate the importance of your case. Such a matter ought to be made the subject of the profoundest studies, and we should at length approach the Legislature itself with a petition and demand the passage of a private bill. The affair tempts my powers."
"But we have no special wish for publicity."
"Gentlemen, you know not what would be your good fortune. It would make you the talk of the Province. In re Lecour would be a great precedent."
"Such is not our desire."