, a small chamber by the side of it, and another above it.

Now, from the time he had arrived, this gentleman had scarcely touched
any repast that had been served up to him in his chamber. He had spoken
but two words to the host, to warn him that a traveler of the name of
Parry would arrive, and to desire that, when he did, he should be shown
up to him immediately.

He afterwards preserved so profound a silence, that Cropole was almost
offended, so much did he prefer people who were good company.

This gentleman had risen early the morning of the day on which this
history begins, and had placed himself at the window of his salon,
seated upon the ledge, and leaning upon the rail of the balcony, gazing
sadly but persistently on both sides of the street, watching, no doubt,
for the arrival of the traveler he had mentioned to the host.

In this way he had seen the little cortege of Monsieur return from
hunting, then had again partaken of the profound tranquillity of the
street, absorbed in his own expectations.

All at once the movement of the crowd going to the meadows, couriers
setting out, washers of pavement, purveyors of the royal household,
gabbling, scampering shopboys, chariots in motion, hair-dressers on the
run, and pages toiling along, this tumult and bustle had surprised him,
but without losing any of that impassible and supreme majesty which
gives to the eagle and the lion that serene and contemptuous glance
amidst the hurrahs and shouts of hunters or the curious.

Soon the cries of the victims slaughtered in the poultry-yard, the hasty
steps of Madame Cropole up that little wooden staircase, so narrow and
so echoing, the bounding pace of Pittrino, who only that morning
was smoking at the door with all the phlegm of a Dutchman; all this
communicated something like surprise and agitation to the traveler.

As he was rising to make inquiries, the door of his chamber opened. The
unknown concluded they were about to introduce the impatiently expected
traveler, and made three precipitate steps to meet him.

But, instead of the person he expected, it was Master Cropole who
appeared, and behind him, in the half-dark staircase, the pleasant face
of Madame Cropole, rendered trivial by curiosity. She only gave one
furtive glance at the handsome gentleman, and disappeared.

Cropole advanced, cap in hand, rather bent than bowing.

A gesture of the unknown interrogated him, without a word being
pronounced.

"Mons