On reaching the rue Honore-Chevalier la Peyrade felt a doubt; the dilapidated appearance of the house to which he was summoned made him think he had mistaken the number. It seemed to him that a person of Monsieur du Portail’s evident importance could not inhabit such a place. It was therefore with some hesitation that he accosted Sieur Perrache, the porter. But no sooner had he entered the antechamber of the apartment pointed out to him than the excellent deportment of Bruneau, the old valet, and the extremely comfortable appearance of the furniture and other appointments made him see that he was probably in the right place. Introduced at once, as soon as he had given his name, into the study of the master of the house, his surprise was great when he found himself in presence of the commander, so called, the friend of Madame de Godollo, and the little old man he had seen half an hour earlier with Thuillier. “At last!” said du Portail, rising, and offering la Peyrade a chair, “at last we meet, my refractory friend; it has taken a good deal to bring you here.” “May I know, monsieur,” said la Peyrade, haughtily, not taking the chair which was offered to him, “what interest you have in meddling with my affairs? I do not know you, and I may add that the place where I once saw you did not create an unconquerable desire in me to make your acquaintance.” “Where have you seen me?” asked du Portail. “In the apartment of a strumpet who called herself Madame de Godollo.” “Where monsieur, consequently, went himself,” said the little old man, “and for a purpose much less disinterested than mine.” “I have not come here,” said la Peyrade, “to bandy words with any one. I have the right, monsieur, to a full explanation as to the meaning of your proceedings towards me. I therefore request you not to delay them by a facetiousness to which, I assure you, I am not in the humor to listen.” “Then, my dear fellow,” said du Portail, “sit down, for I am not in the humor to twist my neck by talking up at you.” The words were reasonable, and they were said in a tone that showed the old gentleman was not likely to be frightened by grand airs. La Peyrade therefore deferred to the wishes of his host, but he took care to do so with the worst grace possible. “Monsieur Cerizet,” said du Portail, “a man of excellent standing in the world, and who has the honor to be one of your friends--” “I have nothing to do with that man now,” said la Peyrade, sharply, understanding the malicious meaning of the old man’s speech. “Well, the time has been,” said du Portail, “when you saw him, at least, occasionally: for instance, when you paid for his dinner at the Rocher de Cancale. As I was saying, I charged the virtuous Monsieur Cerizet to sound you as to a marriage--” “Which I refused,” interrupted la Peyrade, “and which I now refuse again, more vehemently than ever.”