little newspaper," said Giroudeau, settling his black silk skull-cap.
"Moreover, I'm the working editor of all that rubbish," he added,
pointing to the newspaper itself.

"And I, who went to Egypt, I'm obliged to stamp it," said the
one-armed man.

"Hold your tongue, Coloquinte," said Giroudeau. "You are in presence
of a hero who carried the Emperor's orders at the battle of
Montereau."

Coloquinte saluted. "That's were I lost my missing arm!" he said.

"Coloquinte, look after the den. I'm going up to see my nephew."

The two soldiers mounted to the fourth floor, where, in an attic room
at the end of a passage, they found a young man with a cold light eye,
lying on a dirty sofa. The representative of the press did not stir,
though he offered cigars to his uncle and his uncle's friend.

"My good fellow," said Giroudeau in a soothing and humble tone, "this
is the gallant cavalry officer of the Imperial Guard of whom I spoke
to you."

"Eh! well?" said Finot, eyeing Philippe, who, like Giroudeau, lost all
his assurance before the diplomatist of the press.

"My dear boy," said Giroudeau, trying to pose as an uncle, "the
colonel has just returned from Texas."