He wore no decoration in his button-hole, and doeskin gloves concealed his hands.

Nothing about him betrayed to the eyes of youth a peer of France, and one of the most useful statesmen in the kingdom.
Pere Leger had never seen the count, who, on his side, knew the former only by name.

When the count, as he got into the carriage, cast the glance about him which affronted Georges and Oscar, he was, in reality, looking for the head-clerk of his notary (in case he had been forced, like himself, to take Pierrotin's vehicle), intending to caution him instantly about his own incognito.

But feeling reassured by the appearance of Oscar, and that of Pere Leger, and, above all, by the quasi-military air, the waxed moustaches, and the general look of an adventurer that distinguished Georges, he concluded that his note had reached his notary, Alexandre Crottat, in time to prevent the departure of the clerk.
"Pere Leger," said Pierrotin, when they reached the steep hill of the faubourg Saint-Denis by the rue de la Fidelite, "suppose we get out, hey ?" "I'll get out, too," said the count, hearing Leger's name.
"Goodness! if this is how we are going, we shall do fourteen miles in fifteen days!" cried Georges.
"It isn't my fault," said Pierrotin, "if a passenger wishes to get out." "Ten louis for you if you keep the secret of my being here as I told you before," said the count in a low voice, taking Pierrotin by the arm.
"Oh, my thousand francs!" thought Pierrotin as he winked an eye at Monsieur de Serizy, which meant, "Rely on me." Oscar and Georges stayed in the coach.
"Look here, Pierrotin, since Pierrotin you are," cried Georges, when the passengers were once more stowed away in the vehicle, "if you don't mean to go faster than this, say so! I'll pay my fare and take a post-horse at Saint-Denis, for I have important business on hand which can't be delayed." "Oh! he'll go well enough," said Pere Leger.

"Besides, the distance isn't great." "I am never more than half an hour late," asserted Pierrotin.
"Well, you are not wheeling the Pope in this old barrow of yours," said Georges, "so, get on." "Perhaps he's afraid of shaking monsieur," said Mistigris looking round at the count.