Courtin,--for it was he whom Courte-Joie designated as the man from La Logerie,--Courtin had entered the outer room. Except for the little cry of warning, so well imitated that it was really like the cry of a frightened partridge, no one appeared to take any notice of his presence. The men who were drinking continued their talk, although, serious as their manner was when Courtin entered, it now became suddenly very gay and noisy. The farmer looked about him, but evidently did not find in the first room the person he wanted, for he resolutely opened the door of the glass partition and showed his sneaking face on the threshold of the inner room. There again, no one seemed to notice him. Mariette alone, Aubin Courte-Joie's niece, who was waiting on the customers, withdrew her attention from the cider cups, and looking at Courtin said, as she would have done to any of her uncle's guests:-- "What shall I bring you, Monsieur Courtin?" "Coffee," replied Courtin, inspecting the faces that were round the table and in the corners of the room. "Very good; sit down," said Mariette. "I'll bring it to your seat presently." "That's not worth while," replied Courtin, good-humoredly; "pour it out now. I'll drink it here in the chimney-corner with the friends." No one seemed to object to this qualification; but neither did any one stir to make room for him. Courtin was therefore obliged to make further advances. "Are you well, _gars_ Aubin?" he asked, addressing the tavern-keeper. "As you see," replied the latter, without turning his head. It was obvious to Courtin that he was not received with much good-will; but he was not a man to disconcert himself for a trifle like that. "Here, Mariette," said he, "give me a stool, that I may sit down near your uncle." "There are no stools left, Maître Courtin," replied the girl. "I should think your eyes were good enough to see that." "Well, then, your uncle will give me his," continued Courtin, with audacious familiarity, though at heart he felt little encouraged by the behavior of the landlord and his customers. "If you will have it," grumbled Aubin Courte-Joie, "you must, being as how I am master of the house, and it shall never be said that any man was refused a seat at the Holly Branch when he wanted to sit down." "Then give me your stool, as you say, smooth-tongue, for there's the very man I'm after, right next to you." "Who's that?" said Aubin, rising; and instantly a dozen other stools were offered. "Jean Oullier," replied Courtin; "and it's my belief that here he is." Hearing his name, Jean Oullier rose and said, in a tone that was almost menacing:-- "What do you want with me?" "Well, well! you needn't eat me up because I want to see you," replied the mayor of la Logerie. "What I have to say is of more importance to you than it is to me."