Thereupon Maître Frantz and his disciple proudly entered the ancient Rue des Tanneurs, and, to tell the truth, an extraordinary animation exhibited itself as they made their way along. Young and old faces showed themselves at all the windows, in cornettes, in three-cornered hats, and in cotton caps; everybody was curious to see them; the habitués of the casino came out into the balcony, with billiard-cues or newspapers in their hands; children returning from school, with their satchels at their back, followed them; the geese themselves, walking about the streets and chatting amongst themselves on indifferent subjects, suddenly set up a cry of triumph, and flew right away to the Place de la Licorne. “You see, Coucou Peter,” said the illustrious philosopher, “what a sensation our arrival produces; everywhere we are received with fresh enthusiasm! If the pastor will only lend us his temple for a day or two, we are sure of converting the whole town. The simplest course will then be to establish discussions, and invite all to make whatever objections may occur to them. Then from the height of the pulpit I will rebuke them in a voice of thunder, I will bemoan the aberrations of the age, I will strike with salutary terror the unbelievers, the sophists, and most of all the indifferents—those lepers of society, those worthless beings, who think of nothing, believe in nothing, and doubt even their own existence! Oh, impure race!—race of vipers, given up to sensual enjoyments, you shall tremble! Yes, you shall tremble at the voice of Frantz Mathéus, filled with real enthusiasm; you shall be cast down with wholesome terror, and brought upon your knees before him! But Frantz Mathéus is not cruel, and if you will only recognise the transformation of bodies and the peregrination of souls, if you will only allow faith to penetrate to the depths of your withered hearts, all shall be forgiven you!” Notwithstanding his mental excitement, Maître Frantz saw clearly what was going on around him; the sight of men of the law in black robes, walking in front of the Courthouse, made him thoughtful; and when on the Place de la Licorne, a kind of sergent-de-ville, in a large flap hat and with a stick under his arm, looked after them, the hare-like nature of the illustrious philosopher at once revealed itself, and he remembered that he had no passport. Fortunately they had reached the Rue des Capucins, and found themselves in front of the parsonage. “Halt!” cried Coucou Peter; “here’s our inn!” “Heaven be thanked!” said Mathéus; “we’ve had a long trot to-day.” He alighted from the saddle, and Coucou Peter, without the least hesitation, led the horse to the stable. At that moment the voice of the Pastor Schweitzer was heard inside the house, exclaiming— “Twelve louis!—twelve louis! You have lost your senses, Salomon; a thin cow, not even fresh in milk.” “I’ve been offered as much for her, Monsieur Schweitzer.”