I was therefore watching him with a furtive but wide-awake glance, when I had the satisfaction of seeing him stop within three steps of my camp-stool, and removing his hat.
"Monsieur," he said, in a full and frank tone of voice, "will you permit me to look at your drawing ?" I returned his salutation, nodded in token of acquiescence, and went on with my work.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the unknown equestrian, apparently yielding to the violence of his impressions, allowed a few laudatory epithets to escape him; then, resuming his direct allocution: "Monsieur," he said, "allow me to return thanks to your talent; we shall be indebted to it, I feel quite sure, for the preservation of these ruins, which are the ornament of our district." I abandoned at once my reserve, which could no longer be anything but childish sulkiness, and I replied, as I thought I should, that he was appreciating with too much indulgence a mere amateur's sketch; that I certainly had the greatest desire of saving these beautiful ruins, but that the most important part of my work threatened to remain quite insignificant, for want of historical information which I had vainly tried to find in the archives of the county-seat.
"Parbleu, monsieur," rejoined the horseman, "you please me greatly.

I have in my library a large proportion of the archives of the abbey.

Come and consult them at your leisure.

I shall feel grateful to you for doing so." I thanked him with some embarrassment.