Will your Excellency see him, or shall I bid him leave the clothes ?" The Count was very much fatigued by this time; he had signed three papers, and read the first half-a-dozen lines of a pair of them.
"Bid the fellow come in, La Rose; and, hark ye, give me my wig: one must show one's self to be a gentleman before these scoundrels." And he therefore mounted a large chestnut-coloured, orange-scented pyramid of horsehair, which was to awe the new-comer.
He was a lad of about seventeen, in a smart waistcoat and a blue riband: our friend Tom Billings, indeed.

He carried under his arm the Count's destined breeches.

He did not seem in the least awed, however, by his Excellency's appearance, but looked at him with a great degree of curiosity and boldness.

In the same manner he surveyed the chaplain, and then nodded to him with a kind look of recognition.
"Where have I seen the lad ?" said the father.

"Oh, I have it! My good friend, you were at the hanging yesterday, I think ?" Mr.Billings gave a very significant nod with his head.