"Messieurs," said Léodgard, "would you not like to take something besides cheese with your wine?--Look you, I know what young men are; their purses are not always well filled." "That is true!" said Plumard; "we will not play at pride with you, seigneur; we will admit frankly that we have but eleven sous; to be sure, we are clerks to Maître Bourdinard, solicitor, but he pays so little." "In that case, allow me to offer you some breakfast." "You invite us so graciously, that we cannot refuse." "Landlord, bring us some ham, an omelet, cutlets--in short, the best of everything that you have!" The tavern keeper stared in amazement at Léodgard and the two clerks; but the count had tossed a gold piece on the table, and such things were seen so rarely in that poor shop that the host took it up, gazed at it a long while, and rang it on the table to be sure that he was not mistaken. Reassured at last with respect to the quality of the metal, he tossed his cap in the air and ran off to his kitchen, overturning all the tables that stood in his path. The breakfast was soon brought. Léodgard ate something, so that his conduct might seem less extraordinary to his guests, whose glasses he was careful to fill frequently; and as they never refused, they were speedily in the best of humors. But Plumard did not carry his wine so well as his friend; he began to find difficulty in expressing himself, while Bahuchet was only a little giddy. Léodgard leaned toward the latter and said to him in an undertone: "If I should ask a service at your hands, and should offer to pay for it its weight in gold, should you be inclined to render it?" "Altogether inclined, my gentleman; indeed, I am the one who would be greatly obliged. But move away a little, if you please; it is unnecessary that my comrade should hear you; when there is money to be earned, I prefer not to share it. To be sure, if he should hear now, he wouldn't understand. He is drunk! he doesn't know how to drink!" The count pushed his seat away, and Bahuchet moved nearer to him. Plumard, his goblet having been filled once more, emptied it and began to talk to himself. "Do you know the Marquis de Santoval's young wife?" asked Léodgard, taking pains to speak so that only Bahuchet could hear. "Yes, seigneur, yes; but----" "Your master attends to her aunt's business?" "He does." "You have a document to carry to Madame de Ravenelle's niece for her signature?" "I say--you know that?" "When you carry that document, you can take charge of a letter which I will give you for the marchioness; but you must hand that letter to no one but herself, and without allowing any other person to see you." "Very good; I understand." "Will you find a way to perform this commission?" "Will I find a way! Never fear, I have done more difficult things." "The husband must not suspect anything." "He will know nothing about it."