informed his master that Antoine was the name of the postilion who was
to take the coach from Macon to Belleville. The groom also gave him the
four screw-rings and the two padlocks he had purchased.

Montbar ordered up a bottle of old Burgundy, and sent for Antoine.

Ten minutes later Antoine appeared. He was a fine, handsome fellow,
twenty-five or six years of age, about Montbar's height; a fact which
the latter, in looking him over from head to foot, remarked with
satisfaction. The postilion paused at the threshold, and, carrying his
hand to his hat in a military salute, he said: "Did the citizen send for
me?"

"Are you the man they call Antoine?" asked Montbar.

"At your service, and that of your company."

"Well, you can serve me, friend. But close the door and come here."

Antoine closed the door, came within two steps of Montbar, saluted
again, and said: "Ready, master."

"In the first place," said Montbar, "if you have no objections, we'll
drink a glass of wine to the health of your mistress."

"Oh! oh! My mistress!" cried Antoine. "Can fellows like me afford
mistresses? They're all very well for gentlemen such as you."

"Come, you scamp!" said Montbar. "You can't make me believe that, with
your make-up, you've made a vow of chastity."

"Oh! I don't say I'm a monk in that particular. I may have a bit of a
love-affair here and there along the high-road."

"Yes, at every tavern; and that's why we stop so often with our return
horses to drink a drop or fill a pipe."

"Confound it!" said Antoine, with an indescribable twist of the
shoulders. "A fellow must have his fun."

"Well, taste the wine, my lad. I'll warrant it won't make you weep." And
filling a glass, Montbar signed to the postilion to fill the other.

"A fine honor for me! To your health and that of your company!"

This was an habitual phrase of the worthy postilion, a sort of extension
of politeness which did not need the presence of others to justify it in
his eyes.

"Ha!" said he, after drinking and smacking his lips, "there's
vintage for you--and I have gulped it down at a swallow as if it were
heel-taps!"

"That was a mistake, Antoine."

"Yes, it was a mistake."

"Luckily," said Montbar, refilling his glass, "you can repair it."

"No higher than my thumb, citizen," said the facetious postilion, taking
care that his thumb touched the rim of the glass.

"One minute," said Montbar, just as Antoine was putting his glass to his
l