"'Your uncle Flic-Flac, of Pézenas, has closed his shop--in other words, put out his lantern--in other words, broken his pipe; in short, he has started on the long journey, and has left you all his property--about two thousand crowns a year!'" "Two thousand crowns a year! why, that's a very pretty income, Monsieur de Passedix! It's the same as six thousand livres." "Even so, Dame Cadichard, you reckon with marvellous accuracy; my inheritance is six thousand livres a year, without counting the furniture and chattels of the defunct, which also come to me.--When Craquenard--that is my friend's name--had told me all that, I admit that at first blush I refused to believe it. "'Craquenard, you are making sport of me,' I cried; 'you are telling me lies. If you are, I will run Roland through your belly!'" "Oh! monsieur le chevalier, how ill-tempered you become all at once!" "What can you expect? I cannot help it--my blood is always forty degrees above zero.--But Craquenard replied: "'To prove that I am not telling fables, just come with me; I'll take you to Maître Bourdinard's, the solicitor; he has received a copy of the will, and is instructed to hand you the money you have inherited.' "You will understand, Dame Cadichard, that I did not have to be asked twice to accompany Craquenard to the solicitor's! There, as soon as my identity was established, they offered to give me something in advance on what will come to me when everything is settled. And that is why, my sweet hostess, I return with such a well-lined purse! To say nothing of another little sack which I have in my belt.--Aha! wealth is very nice, indeed! Sandioux! I never felt so happy in my life.--Make up your account, if you please." "Here it is, monsieur le chevalier; it has been made a long while," replied Dame Cadichard, taking a paper from a drawer; then she handed it to the Gascon, saying: "Be kind enough to verify the account!" "Fie! fie! who ever heard of a gentleman like me verifying an account? That is all well enough for the lowborn, for clowns!--We do not always pay, perhaps! but, at all events, we never verify!--Once more, take from this purse what I owe you, so that I may be entirely square with you." The hostess opened the purse, took out several gold pieces, counted on her fingers, then with a pen, and receipted her account, which she handed to the chevalier, with the purse, which was still well filled. "That is all settled, Monsieur de Passedix. When you have time, you may make sure that the account is not padded by a single denier." "Oh! Dame Cadichard! once more, what do you take me for?--I should be very sorry to look at this paper. See--this is how much I care for it!" And Passedix tossed the account into a tiny fire that burned in a huge fireplace, whose feeble heat hardly changed the temperature, which was very cold outside.