To divert himself while tramping along with his _sac de voyage_, Henry shelled the peas, casting the pods behind him, after the manner of Tom Thumb, never dreaming that the peas thus left to chum familiarly with his toilet things might suffer from the contact and get a new flavor. He was surprised to see how the "bushel" had diminished in volume since it started. Mrs. Moulton had promised to send the carriage to meet _l'envoi extraordinaire_; but Henry, finding none, started to walk toward home, followed by a porter carrying his extra baggage. What was Henry's astonishment at seeing Louis drive out of the Hôtel de Ville with two strange men in the coupé. Henry hailed Louis, who, though scared out of his wits, pulled up obediently, disregarding the angry voices from inside. Henry opened the door and addressed the strangers politely, "Messieurs, this is my carriage; I beg you to alight." "Par exemple!" cried the two, in chorus. "Who are you?" "I happen to be the proprietor of the carriage," replied Henry, assuming an important air, "and if you decline to leave it I shall call the Sergent de Ville." Then turning to the porter, he told him to put the bags in the coupé, which he did. "Ha, ha!" laughed the two men. "_Faites ça, mon bon!_ that would be amusing. Do you know who we are?" Henry did not, and said he was not particularly anxious to know. "This is Monsieur Félix Pyat, and I am his secretary. Here is a _bon_ for your carriage," handing Henry the card. "Well," said Henry, pulling out his card, "here is my card, here are my passes, and here [pointing to Louis] is my coachman!" Félix Pyat said, "How do we know that this is your carriage?" Henry acknowledged that at the moment he looked so little like the owner of anything except the bag, in which the peas were rattling like bullets, that he forgave the doubt. Louis was called from the box and the question was put to him. In ordinary moments Louis would have mumbled and stuttered hopelessly; but he seemed to have been given overwhelming strength on this occasion, and surprised Henry by confirming his words with an unction worthy of the great Solomon himself. He waved his whip aloft, pointed to Henry, and putting his hand on his heart (which I am sure was going at a tremendous pace) said, "I swear that this is my master!" No one but a Communard could have doubted him; but Félix Pyat no more believed Louis's oath than he did Henry's documents. "_Bien_," said Pyat; "if it is true that you live in the Rue de Courcelles, we will leave you there and continue on our way." Now followed the most spirited altercation, all talking at once, Henry trying to get in the coupé, and the others refusing to get out. "À la maison!" shouted Henry.