Thereupon he embraced Lucilio, and also, for the first time in his life, the faithful Adamas, who wrote that glorious fact in letters of gold on his tablets. Then the marquis took Mario in his arms, placed him on the table in the middle of the room, and, walking a few steps away, began to gaze at him as if he had not seen him at all as yet. He was his own, his heir, his son, the greatest joy of his whole life. He examined him from head to foot, smiling, with a blending of affection, pride and childish delight, as if he were a superb picture or piece of furniture; and as he already had the feelings of a father and did not wish to make that noble child absurdly vain, he forced back his exclamations and contented himself by rolling his great black eyes, showing his great white teeth, and moving his head with a self-satisfied air to the right and left, as if to say to Adamas and Lucilio; "Just look! what a fine fellow, what a figure, what eyes, what a bearing, what pretty ways, what a son!" His two friends shared his delight, and Mario endured their scrutinizing with a confident and affectionate air, which seemed to say to them: "You can look at me, you will find no evil in me." But he seemed to say more particularly to the old marquis: "You can love me with all your strength, I will pay you back." And when the scrutiny was at an end, they embraced again, as if they would fain exchange in a kiss all the kisses of which the childhood of the one and the others old age had been deprived. "You see, my dear friend," the marquis in his joy said to Lucilio, "that we must not make sport of soothsayers, when they predict our future by the stars. You shake your dear old head? Yet you surely believe that our planet----" The worthy marquis would doubtless have attempted to elucidate some theory of his own invention, wherein astronomy, to which he was devoted, was in some measure confirmed by astrology, to which he was even more devoted, had not Lucilio interrupted him by handing him a note in which he urged a consultation as to the means of unmasking his brother's murderer. "You are quite right," said Bois-Doré; "and yet, on this day of incomparable bliss, it hurts me to think of inflicting punishment. But I must do it, and, if you please, we will discuss the matter together.--Go, Adamas, and say to this Monsieur D'Alvimar that I beg him to excuse a slight delay in serving supper; and above all, let us not divulge a syllable of the great discovery we have made.--Go, my friend.--What are you doing there?" he added, as he saw Adamas looking into the great mirror, framed in gilt network, and making strange faces at himself. "Nothing, monsieur," replied Adamas; "I am just studying my smile." "For what purpose, I pray to know?" "Is it not fitting, monsieur, that I should make up a treacherous expression to speak to that traitor?"