"I will explain everything," I said; "come in, while they take up your luggage." "All right!" he replied; "and get some breakfast for me, quick! I'm as hungry as a wolf." All this was said with the dignity of a man who never allows himself to be surprised at anything, and in that meridional accent, the ring of which is sufficient to betray the origin of the man. My uncle speaks seven languages; at Paris, as you know, he pronounces with the pure accent of a Parisian, but directly he sets foot in Provence, that's all over; he resumes his brogue, or as they call it down here, the _assent_. He came in, stepping briskly, and holding his head erect; I followed him. Once in my study, and seeing the table laid, he sat down as naturally as if he had just returned from a walk in the park, poured out two large glasses of wine, which he swallowed one after the other with a gulp of deep satisfaction; and then made a cut at a pie, which he attacked in a serious manner, rendering it quite impossible to mistake him for a spectre. I let him alone, still contemplating him with amazement. When I considered him ready to answer my questions, I said-- "Well, uncle, where have you come from?" "Te! I come from Japan, you know very well," he answered, just as if he were referring to the chief town of the department; "only I have dawdled a bit on the way, which prevented me from writing to you." "And during the last five months what has happened to you?" "Pooh! I made an excursion into Abyssinia, in order to see the Negus, who owed me two hundred thousand francs. He has not paid me, the scamp! But how odd you do look! And that great _arleri_, Francois! how he stares at me with his full round eyes, as if I were going to swallow him up. Is there anything so very fierce about me? Hullo, you have altered my livery!" he went on; "they all look like ecclesiastics; have you taken orders, then?" "Why, uncle, these five months past we have been in mourning for you." "In mourning for _me_? You must be joking!" "These five months past we have believed you to be dead, and have received all the documents proving your death!" "Perhaps these documents informed you that I was buried, then?" he added, without changing countenance. "Why, yes, certainly!" I said. "We have also the certificate of your interment!" At this my uncle Barbassou could restrain himself no longer, and was seized with one of those fits of silent laughter which are peculiar to him. "In this case--you would be my heir?" he said, in the middle of his transport of gaiety, which hardly permitted him to speak. "I am already, my dear uncle," I replied, "and am in possession of all your property!" This reply put the finishing touch to his hilarity, and he started off again into such a fit of laughter that I was caught by it, and so was Francois. But suddenly my uncle stopped, as if some reflection had crossed his mind, and seizing my hand with a sudden impulse he said: