"Burguet!" said I, "Aaron himself, the own brother of Moses, and the greatest orator of Israel, could not have spoken better than you did; it was admirable! I owe my peace of mind to you! Whatever you may ask for so great a service I am ready to give to the extent of my means." We went down the stairs; the members of the council following us thoughtfully, one by one. Burguet smiled. "Do you mean it, Moses?" said he, stopping under the arch. "Yes, here is my hand." "Very well!" said he, "I ask you to give me a good dinner at the _Ville-de-Metz_." "With all my heart!" Several citizens, Father Parmentier, Cochois the tax-gatherer, and Adjutant Muller, were waiting for Burguet at the foot of the mayoralty steps, to congratulate him. As they were surrounding and shaking hands with him, Sâfel came and rushed into my arms; Zeffen had sent him to learn the news. I embraced him, and said joyously: "Go, tell your mother that we have won! Take your dinner. I am going to dine at the _Ville-de-Metz_ with Burguet. Make haste, my child!" He started running. "You dine with me, Burguet," said Father Parmentier. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor, I am engaged to dine with Moses; I will go at another time." And, with our arms around each other, we entered Mother Barrière's large corridor, where there was still the odor of good roasts, in spite of the blockade. "Listen, Burguet," said I; "we are going to dine alone, and you shall choose whatever wines and dishes you like best; you know them better than I do." I saw his eyes sparkle. "Good! good!" said he, "it is understood." In the large dining-hall the war-commissioner and two officers were dining together; they turned round, and we saluted them. I sent for Mother Barrière, who came at once, her apron on her arm, as smiling and chubby as usual. Burguet whispered a couple of words in her ear, and she instantly opened the door at the right, and said: "Walk in, gentlemen, walk in! You will not have to wait long." We went into the square room at the corner of the square, a small, high room, with two large windows covered with muslin curtains, and the porcelain stove well heated, as it should be in winter. A servant came to lay the table, while we warmed our hands upon the marble. "I have a good appetite, Moses; my pleading is going to cost you dear," said Burguet, laughing. "So much the better; it cannot be too dear for the gratitude I owe you." "Come," said he, putting his hand on my shoulder, "I won't ruin you, but we must have a good dinner." When the table was ready, we sat down, opposite each other, in soft, comfortable arm-chairs; and Burguet, fastening his napkin in his button-hole, as was his custom, took up the bill of fare. He pondered over it a long time; for you know, Fritz, that though nightingales are good singers, they have the sharpest beaks in the world. Burguet was like them, and I was delighted at seeing him thus meditating.