"Enough, sweet Cadichard, enough, I beg! Put a curb on your tongue, whose intemperance begins to annoy me. I have been patient with your nonsense long enough, and I am disposed to be so no longer.--Put that in your pocket, Dame Cadichard!--That panada you are eating has a very sorry look. For shame! I will bet that there's no sugar in it! I desire a breakfast somewhat more substantial than that.--Where is Popelinette, that I may send her to the nearest wine shop?--Holà! Popelinette!" "My servant is not at your orders, monsieur le chevalier; she does housework for the tenants who pay me. When you do that, she will work for you too." Without a word in reply, the Gascon took from his belt a stout purse full of gold pieces, and threw it on the table at which his hostess was seated. Then he said to her: "Well! _belle dame_, there is enough money to pay more than I owe you. Be good enough to make up my account, so that we may become good friends once more! For I have learned to appreciate the truth of the proverb: 'Short reckonings make long friends!'--That is very melancholy for the human race! It proves that the human race is damnably selfish! But I do not undertake to correct it; I take it as I find it.--Make up your account, Dame Cadichard, and pay yourself from this all that I owe you to this day." The hostess was struck dumb by the sight of that well-lined purse, which had almost fallen into her soup; for the gold which it contained shone with the brilliancy of good alloy. In the joy and amazement caused by her tenant's action, she tried to say something; but she could only stammer a few incoherent words, ending with a sneeze, whose ramifications extended to her panada. So she confined herself to stirring that compound, until, recovering her speech at last, she cried, with the most gracious of smiles: "Mon Dieu! what in the world has happened to you, chevalier? What change has taken place in your position since yesterday? for only yesterday you could not give me anything on account of my rent!" "What has happened to me, my dear hostess? Why, one of those very simple events which happen every day to people who have rich relations.--One of my uncles has deceased; _mortuus est!_ And that uncle, who could not endure me, who was never willing to see me on his birthday, or on New Year's Day, thought better of it when he was on his deathbed, and made me his only heir, to the exclusion of certain cousins who fawned on him and wheedled him from morning till night!" "Ah! that is fine, monsieur le chevalier!--Believe that I share with you in your joy at what has happened." "I do not doubt it! And first of all, you will share with me by taking your dues from this purse.--Well, this morning, I met a friend who was coming to bring me the good news!--He threw his arms about my neck and embraced me until he nearly strangled me.--I was about to ask him the reason, when he cried: