The wines of Roussillon and those of the banks of the Rhone completely effaced those of Champagne and Burgundy. A bottle of maraschino and another of kirsch did, in spite of the exquisite coffee, plunge us into so marked an oenological ecstasy that we found ourselves at a late hour in the Bois de Boulogne instead of our domicile, where we thought we were. In the statutes of our Order there is one rule which is rigidly enforced; namely, to allow all candidates for the privilege of Basoche to limit the magnificence of their feast of welcome to the length of their purse; for it is publicly notorious that no one delivers himself up to Themis if he has a fortune, and every clerk is, alas, sternly curtailed by his parents. Consequently, we hereby record with the highest praise the liberal conduct of Madame Clapart, widow, by her first marriage, of Monsieur Husson, father of the candidate, who is worthy of the hurrahs which we gave for her at dessert. To all of which we hereby set our hands. [Signed by all the clerks.] Three clerks had already been deceived by the Book, and three real “receptions of welcome,” were recorded on this imposing register. The day after the arrival of each neophyte, the little sub-clerk (the errand-boy and “gutter-jumper”) laid upon the new-comer’s desk the “Archives Architriclino-Basochiennes,” and the clerks enjoyed the sight of his countenance as he studied its facetious pages. Inter pocula each candidate had learned the secret of the farce, and the revelation inspired him with the desire to hoax his successor. We see now why Oscar, become in his turn participator in the hoax, called out to the little clerk, “Forward, the book!” Ten minutes later a handsome young man, with a fine figure and pleasant face, presented himself, asked for Monsieur Desroches, and gave his name without hesitation to Godeschal. “I am Frederic Marest,” he said, “and I come to take the place of third clerk.” “Monsieur Husson,” said Godeschal to Oscar, “show monsieur his seat and tell him about the customs of the office.” The next day the new clerk found the register lying on his desk. He took it up, but after reading a few pages he began to laugh, said nothing to the assembled clerks, and laid the book down again. “Messieurs,” he said, when the hour of departure came at five o’clock, “I have a cousin who is head clerk of the notary Maitre Leopold Hannequin; I will ask his advice as to what I ought to do for my welcome.” “That looks ill,” cried Godeschal, when Frederic had gone, “he hasn’t the cut of a novice, that fellow!” “We’ll get some fun out of him yet,” said Oscar. CHAPTER IX, LA MARQUISE DE LAS FLORENTINAS Y CABIROLOS The following day, at two o’clock, a young man entered the office, whom Oscar recognized as Georges Marest, now head-clerk of the notary Hannequin. “Ha! here’s the friend of Ali pacha!” he exclaimed in a flippant way.