"You talk as if you were already elected," he said, "and it is no such thing. It is not always for the skill of the fingers and the cleverest compositions that those who know what they are about select a man. Sometimes they choose him for being the best-known and most respected player in the country, for that makes him a good comrade to the rest of the guild." "Oh! I expect that," returned Joseph. "I have been long absent, and though I pique myself on deserving as much respect as any man, yet I know they will try to fall back on the foolish reason that I am little known. Well, I don't care for that, François! I did not expect to find a company of good musicians among you, capable of judging me or my merits, and lovers enough of true knowledge to prefer my talent to their own interests and that of their acquaintances. All that I wanted was to be heard and judged by my mother and friends,--by intelligent ears and reasonable beings. For the rest, I laugh at your screaming and bellowing bagpipes, and I must say, God forgive me! that I shall be prouder of being rejected than accepted." The monk remarked gently that he was not speaking judiciously. "You should not challenge the judges you demanded of your own free-will," he said; "pride spoils the highest merit." "Leave him his pride," said Carnat; "I am not jealous of what he can show. He ought to have some talent, to cover his other misfortunes. Remember the old saying: 'Good player, good dupe.'" "What do you mean by that?" said Joseph, setting down his glass and looking the other in the eye. "I am not obliged to tell you," said Carnat; "all the others understand it." "But I don't understand it, and as you are speaking to me I'll call you a coward if you dare not explain yourself." "Oh, I can tell you to your face," returned Carnat; "it is something that need not offend you at all, for perhaps it is no more your fault to be unlucky in love than it is mine to be unlucky to-night in music." "Come, come!" said one of the young men who were present; "let _Josette_ alone. She has found some one to marry her, and that's enough; it is nobody's business." "It is my opinion," said another, "that it was not Joseph who was tricked in that affair, but the other who is going to shoulder his work." "Whom are you speaking of?" cried Joseph, as if his head were reeling. "Who is it you call _Josette_? What wicked nonsense are you trying on me?" "Hold your tongues!" cried Mariton, turning scarlet with anger and grief, as she always did when Brulette was attacked. "I wish your wicked tongues were torn out and nailed to the church door." "Speak lower," said one of the young men; "you know that Mariton won't allow a word against her José's fair friend. All beauties uphold each other, and Mariton is not yet so old but what she has a voice in the chapter." Joseph was puzzling his brains to know whether they were blaming or ridiculing him.