"What the devil is he at now?" said the barber, hurrying his steps, while Marcel followed him, repeating,-- "Thieves! That is singular. However, the doors are close shut, and the walls of the garden are ten feet high." Tired of being without light in the vestibule, Chaudoreille had returned into the garden, where, since the moon was nearly hidden by clouds, one could see but a little way from him. The chevalier was singing a virelay which he accompanied by striking Rolande against the branches, then barren of foliage. All of a sudden, at the entrance to some shrubbery, a large white face appeared opposite Chaudoreille, who stopped and cried, in a faltering voice,-- "Who goes there?" Nobody answered him, and he judged it prudent in place of repeating his question to regain the house. In his alarm he mistook the way, and at a turn in the alley perceived before him another personage, who held a club in his hand, with which he seemed disposed to strike him. It was then that Chaudoreille, who felt his strength for flight fail him, made the garden echo with his cries. Guided by his voice, the barber and Marcel were soon near him. "What is the matter? Wherefore this noise?" said Touquet. "Don't you see that wretch who is waiting for me down there to slay me, while his accomplice is hidden in another bush?" The barber turned to look in the direction which Chaudoreille designated with his hand. Marcel did likewise, holding the lantern before him. Soon the latter burst into a shout of laughter, and the barber cried,-- "I was sure that this clown would commit some foolishness." "Why foolishness? Zounds! Why did not these people answer me when I cried to them, 'Who goes there?'" "That would be very difficult for them," said Marcel. "The one that you perceive over there is Hercules killing the Lernean hydra, and the other is probably Mercury or Mars. Perhaps it was even a Venus which frightened you." "Frightened me? Oh, no. By jingo, I wasn't frightened; but they should warn people when they have an Olympus in their garden. In any case, if it is Mercury he can flatter himself that he has received five or six strokes from the flat of this sword, and they weren't given by a dead hand." "And if this young girl heard your cries, wretch," said the barber directing his steps towards the little door. "I do not think she could," said Marcel, "the room she occupies looks out on the other side of the garden." The barber then opened the door by which they had entered. "Remain with Marcel," said he to Chaudoreille. "The marquis will soon be here. If he has any orders for me you will come and communicate them to me immediately, but before monseigneur you must be mute. If the least word escapes you before him, if you commit a single awkwardness, remember I shall take your punishment upon myself."