Kasper could not help smiling at the doctor’s simplicity; but, seeing a crowd of drinkers gathering about them, he took him into the great dining-room, then empty, to ascertain more exactly the state of his affairs. Maître Frantz, without beating about the bush, informed him under what circumstances he had quitted Graufthal, and acquainted him with the innumerable vicissitudes of his anthropo-zoological peregrinations; and Kasper Müller, familiarly placing his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders, cried— “You are a good and excellent man! Does not your name appear on the registry of my birth?” “Doubtless,” replied the illustrious philosopher; “Maître Georges had me for a witness.” “Eh! what need of further explanation is there?” interrupted the brewer. “You will remain in my house to-night, that’s understood. I’ll have your horse taken to the stable, and send your disciple to you.” This said, he quitted Mathéus to go and give his orders. Coucou Peter had scarcely rejoined the illustrious Doctor in the chief dining-room, before Charlotte, one of the servants of the house, came to inform them that all was ready. In spite of this agreeable news, Frantz Mathéus could not help feeling deeply melancholy. It seemed to him that the Great Demiourgos, instead of leaving him to have recourse to Georges Müller, might have given to him, himself, all things necessary to philosophic existence, the more as it was solely for his glory that he had left Graufthal without taking with him a single sou. But Coucou Peter, surprised at finding such a good resting-place, instead of having to sleep under the stars, was astonished at everything—at the size of the hotel, at the stairs, furnished with a handsome copper hand-rail, at the number of the rooms; and when Charlotte conducted them into a neat room, and he saw on a round table the supper already smoking, including half a stuffed turkey, his gratitude expressed itself warmly. “O Great Being!” he cried, “Being of Beings! now is manifested thy boundless power and infinite wisdom! What a banquet for poor devils of philosophers, who expected to have to sleep in the street!” He uttered these words in such an expressive tone of voice that Charlotte instantly conceived an affection for him; but the illustrious Doctor made no reply, for he was truly downcast, and making sad reflections on the philosophic career.