Infernal, indeed, for I found it so. He continued: “It is the jolting and the rumbling, no doubt, that prevents your hearing me—what was I saying? Ah! your reverence, have you heard to-day’s news that is exciting all Paris?” I trembled; was he speaking of me? “No,” answered the priest, who had at last heard him, “I have not had time to read the morning papers; but I suppose I shall see it all in the evening. When I am much engaged, I tell our porter to keep them for me, and I read them on my return.” “What!” exclaimed the usher; “is it possible that you have not heard the news of this morning—the news that is convulsing Paris?” I interrupted him. “I think that I know it.” The usher stared at me. “You! well, really, what do you say to it?” “You are too curious,” replied I. “Why so, sir?” answered the usher. “Every one has his own opinion regarding politics, and I respect you too much not to presume that you have yours. For my part I am entirely in favour of the reconstruction of the National Guard; I was the sergeant of my company, and faith, it was most pleasant——” I interrupted him again. “It was not that I had imagined which caused the excitement, but something else.” “What was it then? You said you knew it.” “I was referring to something else that Paris was thinking of to-day.” The idiot did not yet understand me. “Some more news! How on earth did you manage to pick them up? Can you guess what it can be, your reverence? Come, pray let me know. You cannot imagine how fond I am of a piece of news. I will repeat it to the President, it will amuse him.” And he uttered a hundred more platitudes, turning to the priest and to myself. I shrugged my shoulders. “Well,” continued he, “what are you thinking of?” “I was thinking,” answered I, “that I shall think no more this evening!” “Ah! that is what is troubling you; you are cast down. Come, cheer up; Mr. Castaing talked all the way.” Then, after a pause, he continued: “I escorted Mr. Papavoine; he wore his otter-skin cap, and smoked all the way. As to those young people from Rochelle, they talked to each other the whole time.” “Madmen, enthusiasts,” he added, “they appeared to despise all the world; but really, my young friend, you are too sad.” “Young!” answered I, bitterly; “I am older than you. Each quarter of an hour as it passes adds a year to my age.” He turned round and looked at me for a few seconds with unfeigned surprise. “You are joking—older than I am; why I might be your grandfather.” “I was not joking,” answered I, gravely. He opened his snuff-box. “There, my dear sir, do not be angry, and do not bear me a grudge.” “I shall not bear it long,” was my reply. At this moment the snuff-box, which he had placed against the barred division, was shaken from his hand by a violent jolt of the vehicle, and fell at his feet. “Confound the bars!” cried he. “Am I not unlucky? I have lost all my snuff!” “I am losing more than you,” answered I, with a smile.