"Yes, young man. I will teach the fellow a thing or two! So I must not instruct my parrot except when that gentleman has gone out! that is delicious! it is worth putting on the stage! I will tell it to Zizi, and she will have a good laugh.--Go, young man; I have no further need of you." Saint-Arthur cast a glance at his mirror, to see that nothing was lacking in his costume, strove to assume a martial air, and when he had achieved it, took his pretty ivory cane and went to his neighbor's room. Roncherolle was trying again to sleep; he was on the point of succeeding, when he heard the door on the landing open and close violently; he always left it unlocked, so that people could come in without his having to get up. "Who's there? Who in the devil is making that racket?" cried the sick man, jumping up. "Everybody seems bent on preventing me from sleeping to-day! Is that the way to shut a door?" "Apparently it is my way of shutting one," said Saint-Arthur, entering the room with his hat on, and walking toward Roncherolle without even bowing to him. The invalid opened his eyes and began to scrutinize the personage who had entered his presence in that unceremonious way. "You stare at me with an expression of surprise, Monsieur le Dormeur! To be sure, you don't know me. I will begin by telling you that my name is Alfred de Saint-Arthur, and that I live here beside you, in a very pretty apartment, which does not resemble this; in fact, that I am the master or the owner of the cockatoo which you heard just now." "I suspected as much; just from looking at you, I could have guessed that you were the master of the parrot; for master's the word, as you teach him his tricks." "Ah! very pretty! monsieur is pleased to jest, I believe. Well, we will have a laugh; I came for that purpose. I say, Monsieur de la Marmotte--for a man who wants to sleep all the time may properly be classed with the marmottes--I say, old fellow, you sent someone to me to tell me not to teach to talk the rare bird that I possess; the nasal tones of that creature bore you, fatigue you; he prevents you from going to by-by. That is most distressing, and I am really distressed by it. But, instead of ceasing my lessons to Coco, I propose to give them to him from morning to night, if I please. I have a right to do it! I am in my own apartment; and if you venture to hammer and knock on the partition again, to make me stop, I warn you that it will end badly for you, _sacrebleu_! because, deuce take it! I am not patient, and _morbleu_! and----" Here Saint-Arthur paused, because his neighbor was eyeing him in such a peculiar way that it began to take away his self-possession. "Have you finished?" asked Roncherolle, rolling his chair nearer to Saint-Arthur. "Why, yes, I believe that I have said all that I had to say." "Then it is my turn. In the first place, where did you think you were going, when you came in here?"