"'Hic aliquis de gente hircosa centurionum Dicat; quod satis est sapio mihi; non ego curo Esse quod Arcesilas ærumnosique Solones.'"[9] "Ah well! you will own up then, sir," said the Marquis, laughing, "that having nothing else to say to my judges, I can hardly hope to interest them. Alas! I am neither a huntsman nor a _gourmand._ . . . If I had been I might, perhaps, have awakened some sympathy in my judges!" "But all the councillors are not gladiators, nor sheep led by their wives, my young friend." . . . "'At me nocturnis juvat impallescere chartis.'"[10] "Ah! sir, my greatest misfortune is not to have judges like you." . . . "I have sometimes heard a certain Doctor Sphex spoken of," said the councillor, casting a piercing look on the Marquis, "an old man, who is not unlettered, who is a judge in the morning, and who devotes himself in the evening to his favorite studies. . . ." "'Hic mane edictum, post prandia Callirhoën do!'"[11] "I have presented myself several times at the door of the Councillor Sphex, sir," said Létorière, "and, if what you tell me is true, I doubly regret not having met him, for he is perhaps the only one of my judges whom I could hope to inspire with any sentiment of benevolence, or from whom I might be able to claim any interest in the name of our common tastes." "By Hercules! young man, don't doubt it! . . . But all is not yet hopeless. . . . I am slightly acquainted with this original Sphex; if you will accompany me, I will do myself the pleasure to recommend you, and even to present you to him." "Ah! sir, how shall I ever be able to recognize and deserve this precious favor?" "Young man, people like you and the Councillor Sphex are rare; and you both ought to gain by the meeting which I propose. Give me your arm, and let us proceed." The old man took a malicious pleasure in the surprise which he had planned for Létorière, who did not fail to enlarge on the strangeness and good luck of destiny, when, arriving at the door of the councillor, the latter discovered to him his identity. To the great astonishment of old Catherine, the doctor ordered her to place two covers, for the Marquis could not refuse to partake of the councillor's repast, who, alluding to the frugality of his _ménage_, quoted: "'. . . Positum est algente catino, Durum olus, et populi cribro decussa farina,'"[12] which announcement was realized in all points. An anchorite would hardly have been contented with the dishes served in the library by old Catherine. The councillor, more and more enchanted with his guest, read to him his translations and his commentaries; and, unhoped-for favor! last evidence and proof of confidence! showed him the precious manuscript. At sight of this Létorière manifested such a passionate and jealous admiration, that the doctor began to regard his guest with uneasiness, and almost regretted his imprudent confidence.