“I have an important message to send into your quarter,” said Brigitte, seeing she must resolve to make the sacrifice, “and I have just told my porter to take a cab and attend to it. If you would like to take advantage of that convenience--” “I accept it, madame,” said the old professor, rising; “and, if it comes to the worst, I hope you will testify before the judge that I was niggardly about a cab.” “Henri,” said Brigitte to the man-servant, “take monsieur down to the porter and tell him to do the errand I told him about just now, and to take monsieur to his own door, and be very careful of him.” “Careful of him!” echoed the old man. “Do you take me for a trunk, madame, or a bit of cracked china?” Seeing that she had got her man fairly to the door, Brigitte allowed herself to turn upon him. “What I say, monsieur, is for your good. You must allow me to observe that you have not an agreeable nature.” “Careful of him! careful of him!” repeated the old man. “Don’t you know, madame, that by the use of such words you may get people put into lunatic asylums? However, I will not reply rudely to the polite hospitality I have received,--all the more because, I think, I have put Monsieur Felix, who missed me intentionally, in his right place.” “Go, go, go, you old brute!” cried Brigitte, slamming the door behind him. Before returning to the salon she was obliged to drink a whole glassful of water, the restraint she had been forced to put upon herself in order to get rid of this troublesome guest having, to use her own expression, “put her all about.” CHAPTER XIII. THE MAN WHO THINKS THE STAR TOO BRIGHT The next morning Minard paid a visit to Phellion in his study. The great citizen and his son Felix were at that moment engaged in a conversation which seemed to have some unusual interest for them. “My dear Felix,” cried the mayor of the eleventh arrondissement, offering his hand warmly to the young professor, “it is you who bring me here this morning; I have come to offer you my congratulations.” “What has occurred?” asked Phellion. “Have the Thuilliers--” “It has nothing to do with the Thuilliers,” interrupted the mayor. “But,” he added, looking hard at Felix, “can that sly fellow have concealed the thing even from you?” “I do not think,” said Phellion, “that ever, in his life, has my son concealed a thing from me.” “Then you know about the sublime astronomical discovery which he communicated to the Academy of Sciences yesterday?” “Your kindness for me, Monsieur le maire,” said Felix, hastily, “has led you astray; I was only the reader of the communication.” “Oh! let me alone!” said Minard; “reader, indeed! I know all about it.” “But see,” said Felix, offering Minard the “Constitutionnel,” “here’s the paper; not only does it announce that Monsieur Picot is the maker of the discovery, but it mentions the rewards which, without losing a moment, the government has bestowed upon him.”