"Gaspard," cried the auctioneer, addressing the young man of the tumbrel, "Suzanne would no longer hesitate if she saw you in such a hat. And with the trunk, too. Ah, mon Dieu, can you afford to miss it?" The crowd howled, Suzanne simpered, and Gaspard turned as pink as clover. But he was not to be bullied. The hat was sold to an elderly person, the red cloth likewise; a pot of grease went to a housewife, and there was a veritable scramble for the box of playing cards; and at last Hippolyte held up the wooden cage with the fluttering yellow birds. "Ha!" he cried, his eyes on Gaspard once more, "a gentle present--a present to make a heart relent. And Monsieur Leon, perchance you will make a bid, although they are not gamecocks." Instantly, from somewhere under the barrel, a cock crew. Even the yellow birds looked surprised, and as for 'Polyte, he nearly dropped the cage. One elderly person crossed himself. I looked at Nick. His face was impassive, but suddenly I remembered his boyhood gift, how he had imitated the monkeys, and I began to shake with inward laughter. There was an uncomfortable silence. "Peste, c'est la magie!" said an old man at last, searching with an uncertain hand for his snuff. "Monsieur," cried Nick to the auctioneer, "I will make a bid. But first you must tell me whether they are cocks or yellow birds." "Parbleu," answered the puzzled Hippolyte, "that I do not know, Monsieur." Everybody looked at Nick, including Suzanne. "Very well," said he, "I will make a bid. And if they turn out to be gamecocks, I will fight them with Monsieur Leon behind the cabaret. Two livres!" There was a laugh, as of relief. "Three!" cried Gaspard, and his voice broke. Hippolyte looked insulted. "M'ssieurs," he shouted, "they are from the Canaries. Diable, un berger doit etre genereux." Another laugh, and Gaspard wiped the perspiration from his face. "Five!" said he. "Six!" said Nick, and the villagers turned to him in wonderment. What could such a fine Monsieur want with two yellow birds? "En avant, Gaspard," said Hippolyte, and Suzanne shot another barbed glance in our direction. "Seven," muttered Gaspard. "Eight!" said Nick, immediately. "Nine," said Gaspard. "Ten," said Nick. "Ten," cried Hippolyte, "I am offered ten livres for the yellow birds. Une bagatelle! Onze, Gaspard! Onze! onze livres, pour l'amour de Suzanne!" But Gaspard was silent. No appeals, entreaties, or taunts could persuade him to bid more. And at length Hippolyte, with a gesture of disdain, handed Nick the cage, as though he were giving it away. "Monsieur," he said, "the birds are yours, since there are no more lovers who are worthy of the name. They do not exist." "Monsieur," answered Nick, "it is to disprove that statement that I have bought the birds. Mademoiselle," he added, turning to the flushing Suzanne, "I pray that you will accept this present with every assurance of my humble regard."