“Ah! Mamzelle Zima, you try to make fun of Pongo and keep out of sight a long time. Suppose me cross and not rub you head to make you shine, how you like that, eh, Mamzelle Zima?” At this point, the scene between the mulatto and the cane was interrupted by shouts of laughter. They came from Georget, who, not being used to the customs of Africa, had been unable to restrain longer the desire to laugh, caused by the faithful Pongo’s monologue. He turned when he heard the laughter, and seeing the youth, began to laugh too, and, cane in hand, to take several steps of a strange dance which recalled the famous dance of the _Cocos,_ performed in all the melodramas in which negroes are introduced. A ring at the bell interrupted this extemporaneous ballet; Pongo dropped Mademoiselle Zima, and left the study, saying: “That’s master, he ring for me; he awake, I go tell him that you waiting.” A few moments later the mulatto returned, and ushered Georget into Monsieur Malberg’s bedroom; that gentleman was enveloped in an ample dressing-gown and held a newspaper, which he seemed to be reading. He glanced at Georget, who remained bashfully in the doorway of the room, twisting his cap about in his hands. “It’s you, is it, young man? What do you want of me so early in the morning? Is your mother sicker?” “Oh, no! thanks to heaven and to you, monsieur! But I have come because I found this twenty francs in the pocket in which monsieur was kind enough to put some herbs for me to make my mother some tea. It was another kindness on monsieur’s part, no doubt, but he is too kind; we must not keep this money, for it would take us too long to return it; and so I have brought the twenty francs back.” The gentleman in the dressing-gown resumed the perusal of his newspaper, as he answered in a crabbed tone: “I don’t know what you mean; the money is yours, if it was in your pocket; keep it and let me alone.” “But, monsieur, I am very sure that that twenty francs isn’t mine, as I didn’t own a sou to buy sugar, and that was why I was crying on the landing.” “Well! what then? how does that concern me?” “Why, monsieur, as nobody else but you put anything in my pocket, it must have been you who put these five-franc pieces there.” “You are dreaming!” “Oh, no!” “It wasn’t I!” “I am sure that it was!” “Corbleu! you tire me! Well, suppose it was? If I chose to put those five-franc pieces in your pocket, am I not at liberty to put my money where I choose? Do you propose to prevent me from helping you, when I have too much money, and know that you haven’t enough? You are very proud, it seems, master messenger?” “Oh! it isn’t that, monsieur; but you have already overwhelmed us with your kindness; it would be wrong to show our appreciation of it by accepting what we don’t need.” “You lie! you do need money, for last night you were without a sou, and I don’t suppose that you have earned any during the night.”