"You are Monsieur le Vicomte Ernanton de Carmainges." "And you are 'The Shade.'" "Really," said Chicot, "I am quite bewildered." "Well, and what do you want, monsieur?" inquired the young man, somewhat churlishly. "Excuse me, but I am interrupting you, perhaps, my dear monsieur?" "No, only you will allow me to ask you what you may want." "Nothing, except that I wished to speak to the master of this house." "Speak, then." "What do you mean?" "I am the master of the house, that is all." "You? since when, allow me to ask?" "Diable! since the last three days." "Good! the house was for sale then?" "So it would seem, since I have bought it." "But the former proprietor?" "No longer lives here, as you see." "Where is he?" "I don't know." "Come, come, let us understand each other," said Chicot. "There is nothing I should like better," replied Ernanton, with visible impatience, "only let us do so without losing any time." "The former proprietor was a man between five-and-twenty and thirty years of age, but who looked as if he were forty." "No; he was a man of about sixty-five or sixty-six years old, who looked his age quite." "Bald?" "No, on the contrary, a perfect forest of white hair." "With an enormous scar on the left side of the head, had he not?" "I did not observe the scar, but I did a good number of furrows." "I cannot understand it at all," said Chicot. "Well," resumed Ernanton, after a moment's silence, "what did you want with that man, my dear Monsieur l'Ombre?" Chicot was on the point of acknowledging what had just happened; suddenly, however, the mystery of the surprise which Ernanton had exhibited, reminded him of a certain proverb very dear to all discreet people. "I wished to pay him a neighborly visit," he said, "that is all." In this way, Chicot did not tell a falsehood, and yet admitted nothing. "My dear monsieur," said Ernanton politely, but reducing considerably the opening of the door which he held half-closed, "I regret I am unable to give you more precise information." "Thank you, monsieur," said Chicot, "I must look elsewhere, then." "But," continued Ernanton, as he gradually closed the door, "that does not interfere with my congratulating myself upon the chance which has brought me again into personal communication with you." "You would like to see me at the devil, I believe," murmured Chicot, as he returned bow for bow. However, as, notwithstanding this mental reply, Chicot, in his preoccupation, forgot to withdraw, Ernanton, shutting his face between the door and the doorway, said to him: "I wish you a very good-evening, monsieur."--"One moment, Monsieur de Carmainges," said Chicot. "Monsieur, I exceedingly regret I am unable to wait," replied Ernanton, "but the fact is, I am expecting some one who will come and knock at this very door, and this person will be angry with me if I do not show the greatest possible discretion in receiving him."