While Marcel was coming upstairs Chaudoreille's terror became somewhat lessened. While he had been immured in the pedestal a murmuring sound only penetrated to his ears, and he believed that the room was filled with armed men who were looking for him. Now the words which he caught, the name of the marquis which he heard pronounced, taught him the truth. Reassured that his life was in no danger, he began to glance pleadingly at the persons who surrounded the table, and meeting nothing but laughing faces he entirely recovered his spirits. Marcel entered and, at the sight of Chaudoreille, remained stunned and confused before his master. "Who is this man, Marcel?" said the marquis. "Is he a thief? is it he or you whom we ought to hang? Come, speak, clown, and tell us the truth, or you shall be chastised in good fashion." Marcel, trembling, did not know how to excuse himself for having received someone despite the commands of the marquis, and muttered,-- "Monseigneur, I couldn't help it, I did not wish to, I refused him at first." "Monseigneur," exclaimed Chaudoreille, rising and standing on his tiptoes, "if you will permit me I will relate to your excellency how all this happened, for I see that Marcel will find it difficult to come to an end." "The trembler has recovered his speech," said the big Montgeran, who could not take his eyes from Chaudoreille. "Come, marquis, let him speak." "Yes, yes, he will make us laugh," cried the others. "Very well, gentlemen, since you desire it. Come, speak, you little cur; and you, Marcel, remain there to give him the lie if he attempts to deceive us." Though the sobriquet, little cur, made Chaudoreille knit his brow, permission to speak before noblemen of high rank caused him so much pleasure that he immediately assumed a smiling expression, and commenced his speech,-- "Messeigneurs, your excellencies behold in me Loustic-Goliath de Chaudoreille, Knight of the Round Table; descended on the male side from the famous Milo of Crotona, and on the female side from the celebrated Delilah, who, sacrificing herself for her country, had the courage to cut from Samson, her lover, that which made his strength." Shouts of laughter here interrupted the orator. "It's delightful! he's charming! He's worth his weight in gold!" "Hang it!" said Chaudoreille, "I was sure that I only had to speak." "In fact, descendant of Delilah," said the marquis, "what is your business?" Chaudoreille appeared embarrassed for the moment, then he exclaimed volubly,-- "Defender and protector of beauty--and of gambling houses; understanding how to bear arms and to play at piquet; teaching music, and the way to turn the king or ace at will; succoring young men of family and girls who have been seduced; bearer of love letters; master of the sitar; duellist and messenger,--and all at a very moderate price." "But what a treasure we have in this man!" "Finally, who led you here?"