“You had better not rely on him; the little rascal has the fever and it don’t leave him a minute; it’s constantly going and coming.” “Well, we are in a fix; and it’s too late now to teach anybody else Codinde’s part!” “Monsieur, if you say so, I can take my boy’s part well enough; I know it, because I’ve been saying it to him all day.” “You, Pichet,--you take the child’s part?” “Why,” said Dufournelle, “in a play that is a parody of the melodramas, it seems to me that it will be even funnier to see the part played by a tall fellow like him.” “Is that your opinion? Then I have no objection.--Can we rely on you, Pichet?” “Don’t I tell you that I know the part? The child is hidden, the robbers come, and when he sees that they are going to kill his father, he rushes at them like a kid.” “That’s right, and he says to the robbers: ‘Messieurs, in pity’s name, don’t hurt papa!’--Will you remember that sentence?” “Yes, monsieur, I tell you I know it.” “Then go and rest; don’t drink any more before this evening, and be presentable when the time comes for the play.” “Monsieur will be satisfied with me.” The gardener walked away, as proud as a peacock to play the part of a child, and the amateurs hurried to the theatre, where they tried to rehearse as well as possible; but while trying the combat with swords, which brought the play to an end, young Kingerie, playing the part of Malinot, and finding much difficulty in learning the _four blows_ which his adversary, Astianax, did his utmost to teach him, unexpectedly invented a fifth blow which landed on the nose of the son of the family. Astianax shrieked, thinking that his nose was cut off. The others crowded about him and reassured him; he had suffered nothing worse than a swollen nose and a slight cut upon it. Fourriette made haste to bathe the wounded organ, and thought that with the aid of a compress, which he urged the wounded youth to wear until evening, the nose would resume its normal shape. But young Kingerie was strictly enjoined not to use his sword even for practice. The dinner hour arrived, and with it four scene shifters from one of the Parisian theatres, whom Glumeau had hired to work the scenery on his stage. They were looking for the theatre. “What, have you hired men from the theatre?” cried Dufournelle; “why, we would have set the scenes; we would have acted as scene shifters.” “Oh, yes!” said Eolinde, “it’s very nice indeed when friends manage all those things. We trusted it to them once, and they never succeeded in setting the stage, except the wings representing a cavern and the background of a salon; and they couldn’t light but two lamps, because they had broken all the others.” “What worries me is that Chambourdin doesn’t appear. What shall we do?” said Glumeau, looking at his feet. “I relied upon him, and I have no chevalier’s costume.” “And he promised me, for the part of Roderic, the costume of Robin Hood,” said Astianax.