"I don't know what you are saying, Monsieur Briquet," he replied; "on the contrary, I have been sent with a very important commission by Dom Modeste, who will himself assure you that such is the case, if there be any occasion for it." "Gently, gently, my little Saint Jerome; we take fire like a match, it seems." "And not without reason, too, when one hears such things said as you were saying just now." "Diable! when one sees a frock like yours leaving a tavern at such an hour--" "A tavern, I!" "Oh! of course not; the house you left just now was not the 'Brave Chevalier,' I suppose? Ah! you see I have caught you!" "You were right in saying that I left that house, but it was not a tavern I was leaving." "What!" said Chicot; "is not the hostelry of the sign of the 'Brave Chevalier' a tavern?" "A tavern is a house where people drink, and as I have not been drinking in that house, that house is not a tavern for me." "Diable! that is a subtle distinction, and I am very much mistaken if you will not some day become a very forcible theologian; but, at all events, if you did not go into that house to drink there, what did you go there for?" Clement made no reply, and Chicot could read in his face, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, a resolute determination not to say another word. This resolution annoyed our friend extremely, for it had almost grown a habit with him to become acquainted with everything. It must not be supposed that Clement showed any ill-feeling in his silence; for, on the contrary, he had appeared delighted to meet, in so unexpected a manner, his learned fencing-master, Maitre Robert Briquet, and had given him the warmest reception that could be expected from the close and rugged character of the youth. The conversation had completely ceased. Chicot, for the purpose of starting it again, was on the point of pronouncing the name of Frere Borromée; but, although Chicot did not feel any remorse, or fancied he did not feel any, he could not summon up courage to pronounce that name. His young companion, still preserving the same unbroken silence, seemed as if he were awaiting something; it seemed, too, as if he considered it a happiness to remain as long as possible in the neighborhood of the hostelry of the "Brave Chevalier." Robert Briquet tried to speak to him about the journey which the boy had for a moment entertained the hope of making with him. Jacques Clement's eyes glistened at the words space and liberty. Robert Briquet told him that in the countries through which he had just been traveling, the art of fencing was held greatly in honor; he added, with an appearance of indifference, that he had even brought away with him several wonderful passes and thrusts. This was placing Jacques upon slippery ground. He wished to know what these passes were; and Chicot, with his long arm, indicated a few of them upon the little monk's arm.