“A rare voice,” said he, as he took a great stride; “per Bacco, a very rare voice. Added to that, he sings very deep; two octaves and a half, a clear, ringing tone, the two registers are well united. He would make an admirable ‘primo musico’. And the little fellow has a pretty face, too. After supper I will make him wash his face, and I will sketch it. I am sure that in less than a year’s study, he could make his debut with the greatest success. By Jove! I have an idea! Why does not that Gerfaut return? Now, then, he would do very well for ‘Pippo’ in La Gazza, or for Gemma in Wilhelm Tell. But we must have a role for him to make his debut in. What subject could we take properly to introduce a child’s part? Why does not that Gerfaut come? A child, girl or boy; a boy part would be better. ‘Daniel,’ of course; viva ‘Daniel!’ ‘The Chaste Suzannah,’ opera in three acts. Madame Begrand would be fine as Suzannah. By Jove! if Meyerbeer would only take charge of the score! That falls to him by right as a compatriot. Then, that would give him an opportunity to break lances with Mehul and Rossini. If that fool of a Gerfaut would only come! Let us see what would be the three characters: Soprano, Suzannah; contralto, David; the old men, two basses; as for the tenor, he would be, of course, Suzannah’s husband. There would be a superb entrance for him upon his return from the army, ‘cavatina guerriera con cori’. Oh! that terrible Gerfaut! the wolves must have devoured him. If he were here, we would knock off the thing between our fruit and cheese.” Just at that moment the door opened suddenly. “Is supper ready?” asked a deep voice. “Eh, here he is, the dear friend! “O surprise extreme! Grand Dieu! c’est lui-meme-- alive and in the flesh.” “And hungry,” said Gerfaut, as he dropped into a chair near the fire. “Would you like to compose an opera in three acts, The Chaste Suzannah, music by Meyerbeer?” “I should like some supper first. Madame Gobillot, I beseech you, give me something to eat. Thanks to your mountain air, I am almost starved.” “But, Monsieur, we have been waiting two hours for you,” retorted the landlady, as she made each stewpan dance in succession. “That is a fact,” said the artist; “let us go into the dining-room, then. “Gia la mensa a preparata.” “While supping, I will explain my plans to you. I have just found a Daniel in the ashes--” “My dear Marillac, drop your Daniel and Suzannah,” replied Gerfaut, as he sat down to the table; “I have something much more important to talk to you about.” BOOK 2. CHAPTER VI. GERFAUT’S STORY While the two friends are devouring to the very last morsel the feast prepared for them by Madame Gobillot, it may not be out of place to explain in a few words the nature of the bonds that united these two men.