On it he read the words in gilt letters: "Maitre Crottat, notary." The count at once opened it, and fearing, with some reason, that Pere Leger might be seized with the same curiosity, he took out the deed of sale for the farm at Moulineaux, put it into his coat pocket, and entered the inn to keep an eye on the travellers.
"This Georges is neither more nor less than Crottat's second clerk," thought he.

"I shall pay my compliments to his master, whose business it was to send me his head-clerk." From the respectful glances of Pere Leger and Oscar, Georges perceived that he had made for himself two fervent admirers.

Accordingly, he now posed as a great personage; paid for their cheese-cakes, and ordered for each a glass of Alicante.

He offered the same to Mistigris and his master, who refused with smiles; but the friend of Ali Tebelen profited by the occasion to ask the pair their names.
"Oh! monsieur," said Mistigris' master, "I am not blessed, like you, with an illustrious name; and I have not returned from Asia--" At this moment the count, hastening into the huge inn-kitchen lest his absence should excite inquiry, entered the place in time to hear the conclusion of the young man's speech.
"-- I am only a poor painter lately returned from Rome, where I went at the cost of the government, after winning the 'grand prix' five years ago.

My name is Schinner." "Hey! bourgeois, may I offer you a glass of Alicante and some cheese-cakes ?" said Georges to the count.
"Thank you," replied the latter.