"Seems to me, lieutenant, that we don't hear much about that marquis who owes you a hundred louis." "Perhaps I shall hear from him to-day." "And the little milkmaid, when are we going to see her again, and thank her for what she brought you? The chickens were fine! I had to eat them while you were dining out." "I don't think that Denise gives very much thought to us. Hasn't she a lover? Isn't she to be married?" "Is that a reason for not thanking her for her chickens, lieutenant?" "Perhaps she came to Paris to invite me to her wedding." "I don't know what she came for; but she seemed unhappy when she went away. She said she wouldn't trouble you any more, and I saw tears in her eyes. That touched me, I admit; the child is so sweet and pretty, and anyone can see that her tears ain't make-believe." Auguste was apparently reflecting on what the ex-corporal had said, when there was a violent ring at the door, and Bertrand announced that an old gentleman whose face denoted intense excitement, wished to see Monsieur Dalville. Auguste was surprised to recognize Monsieur Monin, whose eyes, even more staring than usual, seemed to indicate that something of grave importance had happened. "Is it you, Monsieur Monin?" said Auguste, offering a chair to the ex-druggist, who, despite his excitement, inquired as he seated himself: "How's the state of your health?" "I ought rather to ask you that, Monsieur Monin. You look as if you were in some trouble; may I know what it is?" "Yes, monsieur; I have less than I had! that's why I've come." "What do you say? less than you had? I don't understand." "Do you mean to say you don't know it?" "Know what, Monsieur Monin?" "What I just told you." "Not yet; but if you would be good enough to explain----" "The fact is, monsieur, it gave me such a blow!" "Indeed, you seem to be a little confused." "Didn't it have the same effect on you?" "I don't know as yet what effect it will have on me, Monsieur Monin, or how I am interested in what you came to tell me." "Oh! Monsieur Dalville, if we could have guessed; if we could have foreseen! But, bless my soul! we aren't sorcerers; that's what I told Bichette this morning when she insisted on taking my snuff-box away." "I never supposed that you were a sorcerer, Monsieur Monin; but I confess that at this moment I find you rather incomprehensible." "That's because I haven't recovered yet, monsieur." "Recovered from what?" "And Bichette declares that he's taken you in, too." Dalville lost patience, and glanced at Bertrand, who was pacing the floor, muttering: "If I had a squad of men like him to drill, I'd begin by fastening 'em to horses' tails and driving the horses at a gallop." Monin took out his snuff-box, stuffed his nostrils, and continued: "I have come to you, Monsieur Dalville, to see if by chance you have discovered which way he has gone."