As he spoke, he pointed to his dog, and his manner was so serious and his voice so loud as he made the jest, that the traveller wondered if he were not subject to spasms of seignorial domination altogether out of keeping with his usual good-nature. But a glance at the boy's face was enough to convince him that it was simply a game to which he was well-used, for he cheerfully took his place beside the dog and began to play with him, without a trace of sulkiness or shame. However, as Monsieur Antoine's manners were marked by an originality which could hardly be understood at the first meeting, the young man believed that he was beginning to grow light-headed by dint of much drinking, and he determined not to attach the least importance to what he was about to say. But it very rarely happened that the count lost his head, even after he had lost his legs, and he had resorted to his favorite pastime of bantering his neighbors only to divert the painful impression to which this discussion had given rise as between his guests. "Monsieur," he began. But he was at once interrupted by his dog, who, being also accustomed to his habit of jesting, concluded that he was the person addressed and walked up to his master and touched his arm, capering as friskily as his age would permit. "Well, _Monsieur_," he continued, looking down at him with a playful stare, "what does this mean? Since when have you been as ill-bred as a human being? Go to sleep at once, and don't you ever make me spill wine on the tablecloth again, or you'll have Dame Janille about your ears. It was on a fine spring day last year, young man----" continued Monsieur Antoine. "Excuse me, monsieur," interposed Janille, "it was only the 19th of March, so it was still winter." "Is it worth while haggling over a difference of two days? What is certain is that it was magnificent weather, as warm as it is in June, and quite dry too." "That's true enough," exclaimed the little groom, "for I couldn't water monsieur's horse at the little fountain."