Imagine the tailor's amazement half an hour later to see Martin-Guerre appear again in other clothes. He commented on the fact. Martin-Guerre replied that the evening had seemed a bit cool to him, and that he had thought best to clothe himself a little more warmly. However, he was so very well pleased with the jerkin and the small-clothes that he had come to beg the tailor to sell him or make him another jerkin of the same material and like cut. To no purpose did the man of the yardstick remind Martin-Guerre that he would seem to have only one suit of clothes, and that he would do much better to order a different costume; for instance, a yellow jerkin and brown small-clothes, since he seemed to have a weakness for those particular colors. Martin-Guerre would not recede from his idea, and the tailor had to agree not to make a shade of difference in the garments, which he was to make for him at once, since he had none ready-made; but on this second order Martin-Guerre asked for some credit. He had paid cash handsomely for the first; he was the squire of Vicomte d'Exmès, captain of the king's Guards. The tailor had that monumental trust in human nature which has been from time immemorial the traditional propensity of his craft; so he consented, and promised to deliver the second costume complete the next day. Meanwhile the hour during which Gabriel had had to gnash his teeth outside the gates of his paradise had passed away, and with a number of others, gentlemen and ladies, he had succeeded in making his way to the queen's apartments. At the first glance Gabriel saw Diane; she was seated beside the Queen-Dauphine, as Mary Stuart was henceforth called. To approach her at once would have been very presumptuous for a new-comer, and very imprudent too, no doubt. Gabriel resigned himself to await a favorable opportunity when the conversation should become animated and the attention of those who were near be called to other objects. Meanwhile he entered into conversation with a young nobleman of unhealthy pallor and delicate appearance, near whom he chanced to be standing. But after some little talk on matters as insignificant as his person seemed to be, the young cavalier asked of Gabriel,-- "To whom have I the honor of speaking, Monsieur?" Gabriel replied, "I am Vicomte d'Exmès. And may I venture to ask you the same question, Monsieur?" he added. The young man looked at him in amazement as he replied,-- "I am François de Montmorency." He might as well have said, "I am the Devil!" and Gabriel would have shown less alarmed haste in leaving him. François, whose mind did not work very quickly, was entirely dumfounded; but as he was not fond of using his brain, he soon gave up the riddle, and sought elsewhere for auditors who should be somewhat less unceremonious.