"No, Monsieur Choucru," he said sternly, "I will not let you ruin yourself by putting off till to-morrow what can only be done to-day. I have come here, Monsieur Choucru, to offer you fame. Fame and fortune, Monsieur Choucru!--and I will not suffer you, for the sake of a few miserable dinners, to turn your back upon the most brilliant moment of your life!" "_Mais, M'sieur_--explain yourself" ... stammered the propriétaire. "You know who I am, Monsieur Choucru?" "No, M'sieur--not in the least." "I am Müller--Franz Müller--landscape painter, portrait painter, historical painter, caricaturist, artist _en chef_ to the _Petit Courier Illustré_" "_Hein! M'sieur est peintre_!" "Yes, Monsieur Choucru--and I offer you my protection." Monsieur Choucru scratched his ear, and smiled doubtfully. "Now listen, Monsieur Choucru--I am here to-day in the interests of the _Petit Courier Illustré_. I take the Courbevoie fête for my subject. I sketch the river, the village, the principal features of the-scene; and on Saturday my designs are in the hands of all Paris. Do you understand me?" "I understand that M'sieur is all this time talking to me of his own business, while mine, _là bas_, is standing still!" exclaimed the propriétaire, in an agony of impatience. "I have the honor to wish M'sieur good-day." But Müller seized him again, and would not let him escape. "Not so fast, Monsieur Choucru," he said; "not so fast! Will you answer me one question before you go?" "_Eh, mon Dieu_! Monsieur." "Will you tell me, Monsieur Choucru, what is to prevent me from giving a view of the best restaurant in Courbevoie?" Madame Choucru, from behind the _comptoir_, uttered a little scream. "A design in the _Petit Courier Illustré_, I need scarcely tell you," pursued Müller, with indescribable pomposity, "is in itself sufficient to make the fortune not only of an establishment, but of a neighborhood. I am about to make Courbevoie the fashion. The sun of Asnières, of Montmorency, of Enghien has set--the sun of Courbevoie is about to rise. My sketches will produce an unheard-of effect. All Paris will throng to your fêtes next Sunday and Monday--all Paris, with its inexhaustible appetite for _bifteck aux pommes frites_--all Paris with its unquenchable thirst for absinthe and Bavarian beer! Now, Monsieur Choucru, do you begin to understand me?" "_Mais_, Monsieur, I--I think...." "You think you do, Monsieur Choucru? Very good. Then will you please to answer me one more question. What is to prevent me from conferring fame, fortune, and other benefits too numerous to mention on your excellent neighbor at the corner of the Place--Monsieur Coquille of the Restaurant _Croix de Malte_?" Monsieur Choucru scratched his ear again, stared helplessly at his wife, and said nothing. Madame looked grave. "Are we to treat this matter on the footing of a business transaction, Monsieur!" she asked, somewhat sharply. "Because, if so, let Monsieur at once name his price for me...."