“And now, where is my son?” said the marquis in a trembling voice, glancing about the room. “He will be brought to you in a moment, monsieur,” said the buxom Turlurette; “the nurse is fixing him to show you.” “I don’t want him to be dressed,” said the marquis; “on the contrary, I want to see him naked; then I shall be better able to judge of his strength, of his constitution.” “Yes, yes,” said Jasmin, “we shall be very glad to see what we have made!” “You hear, Turlurette,--tell the nurse to bring me my son as naked as a worm.” “Yes, let her bring him to us at once, like a savage, without any fig-leaf.” “Jasmin, will you be good enough to keep your tongue quiet for a moment?” “I beg pardon, monsieur le marquis; it is my impatience to admire our dear love.” Turlurette made haste to perform her errand, and the nurse soon appeared, carrying before her a large basin, wherein the new-born child, entirely naked, moved about and stretched out at pleasure its little pink and white limbs. The nurse handed the child to the marquis, as the keys of a city used in the old days to be presented to a conqueror. At sight of his son, Monsieur de Grandvilain uttered a joyful cry, and put out his arms to take him; but his emotion caused another attack of faintness; he had not the strength to take the child, but fell back in his chair. Meanwhile, the nurse, thinking that the father was going to take what she held out to him, had relaxed her hold of the child and the basin alike, and both would have fallen to the floor if stout Turlurette had not luckily caught the child by the part which presented itself first to her grasp. The bowl fell to the floor and broke into a thousand pieces. When she heard the crash, madame la marquise thought that her son was killed. “My child! what has happened to him?” “Nothing, madame,” said Turlurette, giving the little boy to her mistress; “he didn’t fall; I caught him by--I got hold of him.” “The dear love! I had a terrible fright!--Great heaven! Turlurette, what a very strange way to hold the child!” “Bless me! it’s very lucky that I caught hold of him as I did! If it hadn’t been so, he might have fallen with the basin, and God knows if he wouldn’t have been smashed like it.” While all this was taking place, Jasmin, seeing his master lying back in his chair, pale and trembling, hastily poured out another glass of madeira for him, and then retired behind the curtain once more. Monsieur de Grandvilain, having recovered his strength for the third time, took the child whom Turlurette still held, and embraced him heartily; then held him up in the air, exclaiming: “So this is my son! my heir! Corbleu! I was sure that I should have a son.” But the marchioness, fearing that her husband would faint again, and that he would then drop the child altogether, begged him to sit down beside her bed; Monsieur de Grandvilain complied, and then began to turn the child over and over, scrutinizing every part.