"A very pretty device that red stork!" I observed, pointing to the
shield on the door, "and no doubt indicates a distinguished family?"
The servant looked at me for a moment, as he placed the little key in
his pocket, and said with a slightly sarcastic bow and smile, "Monsieur
is at liberty to conjecture."
Nothing daunted, I forthwith administered that laxative which, on
occasion, acts so happily upon the tongue--I mean a "tip."
The servant looked at the Napoleon in his hand, and then in my face,
with a sincere expression of surprise. "Monsieur is very generous!"
"Not worth mentioning--who are the lady and gentleman who came here in
this carriage, and whom, you may remember, I and my servant assisted
today in an emergency, when their horses had come to the ground?"
"They are the Count, and the young lady we call the Countess--but I know
not, she may be his daughter."
"Can you tell me where they live?"
"Upon my honor, Monsieur, I am unable--I know not."
"Not know where your master lives! Surely you know something more about
him than his name?"
"Nothing worth relating, Monsieur; in fact, I was hired in Brussels, on
the very day they started. Monsieur Picard, my fellow-servant, Monsieur
the Comte's gentleman, he has been years in his service, and knows
everything; but he never speaks except to communicate an order.
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