"But," cried Marcel, tearing his hair, "we must have some things--confound it!" And he commenced a thorough investigation of every corner of the two rooms. After an hour's search, he realized a costume thus composed: A pair of plaid trousers, a gray hat, a red cravat, a blue waistcoat, two boots, one black glove, and one glove that had been white. "That will make two black gloves on a pinch," said Schaunard. "You are going to look like the solar spectrum in that dress. To be sure, a colourist such as you are--" Marcel was trying the boots. Alas! They are both for the same foot! The artist, in despair, perceived an old boot in a corner which had served as the receptacle of their empty bladders. He seized upon it. "From Garrick to Syllable," said his jesting comrade, "one square-toed and the other round." "I am going to varnish them and it won't show." "A good idea! Now you only want the dress-coat." "Oh!" cried Marcel, biting his fists: "To have one would I give ten years of life, And this right hand, I tell thee." They heard another knock at the door. Marcel opened it. "Monsieur Schaunard?" inquired a stranger, halting on the threshold. "At your service," replied the painter, inviting him in. The stranger had one of those honest faces which typify the provincial. "Sir," said he. "My cousin has often spoke to me of your talent for portrait painting, and being on the point of making a voyage to the colonies, whither I am deputed by the sugar refiners of the city of Nantes, I wish to leave my family something to remember me by. That is why I am come to see you." "Holy Providence!" ejaculated Schaunard. "Marcel, a seat for Monsieur--" "Blancheron," said the new-comer, "Blancheron of Nantes, delegate of the sugar interest, Ex-Mayor, Captain of the National Guard, and author of a pamphlet on the sugar question." "I am highly honoured at having been chosen by you," said the artist, with a low reverence to the delegate of the refiners. "How do you wish to have your portrait taken?" "In miniature," replied Blancheron, "like that," and he pointed to a portrait in oil, for the delegate was one of that class with whom everything smaller than the side of a house is miniature. Schaunard had the measure of his man immediately, especially when the other added that he wished to be painted with the best colours. "I never use any other," said the artist. "How large do you wish it to be?" "About so big," answered the other, pointing to a kit-cat. "How much will it be?" "Sixty francs with the hands, fifty without." "The deuce it will! My cousin talked of thirty francs." "It depends on the season. Colours are much dearer at some times of the year than at others." "Bless me! It's just like sugar!" "Precisely." "Fifty francs then be it." "You are wrong there; for ten francs more you will have your hands, and I will put in them your pamphlet on the sugar question, which will have a very good effect." "By Jove, you are right!"