But on entering the apartment of the young marquis, whom he found pacing the floor with an impatient and angry expression, the tutor became anxious, and began to think that he had not been summoned to give lessons in poetry. Jasmin, who did not know where he was, his master was scowling so at him, stood motionless in a corner, whence he dared not stir, and the concierge, who was fully as terrified as the others, remained in the doorway, afraid to go in. Chérubin addressed the latter first; he bade him come nearer, and said to him: “A short time after I first came to this house, a worthy countrywoman, my nurse, came to see me, with a young girl. They came twice; they were most anxious to see me; and you told them, the first time, that I was travelling, and the second time, that I was at the château of one of my friends. Why did you tell that falsehood? Who gave you leave to turn away people who are dear to me and whom I should have been glad to see? Answer me.” The concierge hung his head and answered: “Faith, monsieur, all I did was to follow the instructions Monsieur Jasmin gave me; and I thought he was only carrying out monsieur’s orders.” “Ah! it was Jasmin who told you to say that, was it? Very well; you may go; but henceforth take your orders from me alone.” The concierge bowed and left the room, delighted that he had come off so cheap. Old Jasmin turned purple; he twisted his mouth, like a child about to cry. Chérubin walked up to him and said in a tone in which there was more reproach than anger: “And so, Jasmin, it was you who ordered my dear Nicole and Louise to be turned away? It was you who arranged matters so that the people who brought me up must inevitably think me proud and unfeeling and ungrateful!--Ah! that was very ill done of you--and I don’t recognize your kind heart in that business.” Jasmin drew his handkerchief and wept. “You are right, monsieur!” he cried; “it was a shame, it was downright folly, but it wasn’t my idea; I should never have thought of it. It was your tutor who told me that we must prevent your seeing Nicole and little Louise, because it would be very dangerous for you. As Monsieur Gérondif is a scholar, I thought that he must be right, and I did what he told me.” While the old valet was speaking, Monsieur Gérondif scratched his nose with all his might, as if to prepare for the attack that he was about to undergo; and in fact it was to him that Chérubin turned after listening to Jasmin, and there was the ring of righteous anger in his voice as he cried: “So all this comes from you, monsieur? I should have suspected as much.--So it was dangerous for me to see the people from the village, who love me like their own child!” Monsieur Gérondif threw one of his legs back, puffed out his chest, raised his head, and began with abundant assurance: