"Good! I agree!" cried Albert; "especially as I have had hard luck lately at bouillotte. That Mouillot is a lucky devil; he always wins, and he owes me a terrible revenge.--Well, Tobie, doesn't the plan suit you? You often say: 'We must dine together, and have a little spree;' but when we try to fix a day, you never can. Here is a good chance, it seems to me. My dear fellow, if you want to succeed with Madame Plays, I warn you that you must act a little cavalierly." Tobie seemed to hesitate for a moment, but at last he struck the ground with his cane and cried: "Well, I accept! yes, let us dine together, and make the day complete! feasting! cards! women! that's my idea of life! Ah! what libertines we are!" "Now, messieurs," said Albert, "we will step into the café on Passage de l'Opéra, and I will write the note for Madame Plays; and I have another letter to write and send off before dinner." "And so have I," said Célestin. "And I," said Tobie; "I have an important errand to be done." "Let us go, then." The three young men entered the café at the corner of the boulevard and the Passage de l'Opéra, and ordered writing materials, together with three glasses of madeira. Each of the three wrote very busily. Albert let his pen run over the paper, but it seemed not to travel fast enough to express the thoughts which thronged the mind of him who guided it. Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir wrote more slowly, but, from the expression of his face, it was evident that he was carefully considering his words. As for Tobie Pigeonnier, he wrote the least rapidly of the three, either because his ideas did not come readily, or because his subject was a difficult one to treat; he scratched his forehead, looked up at the ceiling, wrote two words, stopped, ran his hand through his hair, and began again; his letter caused him much toil, but he did not confine himself to a single one; after sealing the first, he at once began another. Albert and Célestin, who had finished theirs long before, said to him: "Well, Pigeonnier, how many letters are you writing? will this be a long one?" "One moment, messieurs; let me finish this one, I beg; it is very important. You see, in order to dine with you, I have to miss two most seductive appointments. The poor little women! they will be in despair, but, at all events, I shall not keep them waiting for me in the cold. Just a word of love, and I shall have finished." "Parbleu! that's not hard to find. Put _yours for life_, and let it go at that." "That is too common; I am going to write something different." Monsieur Tobie finished his correspondence at last. Albert paid the waiter, and the three young men rose and left the café. "The next thing is to send my letters," said Tobie. "Oh! I have my regular messenger--Sans-Cravate," said Albert; "he is always at the corner of Rue du Helder, close by; let us go there."