, and entered a very
grand house. My master said to me, 'No matter where this gentleman goes,
follow and wait for him at the door. If he comes out again, still keep
your eye on him, until he does not come out of the place where he
enters, and that will prove that he lives there. Then Tortillard, my
boy, twist (_tortille_) yourself about to find out his name, or I will
twist your ears in a way that will astonish you.'"

"Well?"

"Well, I did twist myself about, and found out his name."

"How did you manage it?" inquired the Schoolmaster.

"Why, so. I'm not a fool; so I went to the porter at the house in the
Rue de Chaillot, where this gentleman had gone in and not come out
again. The porter had his hair finely powdered, with a fine brown coat
with a yellow collar trimmed with silver. So I says to him, 'Good
gentleman, I have come to ask for a hundred sous which the gentleman of
the house has promised me for having found his dog and brought it back
to him--a little black dog called Trumpet; and the gentleman with dark
features, with black moustachios, a white riding-coat, and light blue
pantaloons, told me he lived at No. 11 Rue de Chaillot, and that his
name was Dupont.' 'The gentleman you're talking of is my master, and his
name is the Viscount de St. Remy, and we have no dog here but yourself,
you young scamp; so "cut your stick," or I'll make you remember coming
here, and trying to do me out of a hundred sous,' says the porter to me;
and he gave me a kick as he said it. But I didn't mind that," added
Tortillard most philosophically, "for I found out the name of the
handsome young gentleman with black moustachios, who came to my master's
to buy the 'rat-poison for men' who are tired of living. He is called
the Viscount de St. Remy,--my--my--St. Remy," added the son of Bras
Rouge, humming the last words, as was his usual habit.

"Clever little darling--I could eat him up alive!" said the Chouette,
embracing Tortillard. "Never was such a knowing fellow. He deserves that
I should be his mother, the dear rascal does."

And the hag embraced Tortillard with an absurd affectation. The son of
Bras Rouge, touched by this proof of affection, and desirous of showing
his gratitude, eagerly answered:

"Only you tell me what to do, and you shall see how I'll do it."

"Will you, though? Well, then, you sha'n't repent doing so."

"Oh, I should like always to stay with you!"

"If you behave well, we may see about that. You s