brain, for you know the savants of to-day, at their own risk and
peril, have discovered that the human mind is nothing but a
phosphoric tinder-box."

"It is these same savants," said Gilbert, "who consider genius a
nervous disorder. Much good may it do them. They are not my men."

"You treat science lightly; but answer my question seriously: do
you not discover certain analogies between these two personages in
black clothes and red faces?"

"My opinion," interrupted Gilbert impatiently, "is that Solon is
very ugly, and that Father Alexis is very handsome."

"Your answer embarrasses me," retorted the Count, "and I don't know
whether I ought to thank you for the compliment you pay my priest,
or be angry at the hard things you say of my monkey. One thing is
certain," added he, "that my monkey and my priest,--I'm wrong,--my
priest and my monkey, resemble each other in one respect: they have
both a passionate appetite for truffles. You will soon see."

They were just serving fowl with truffles. Solon devoured his
portion in the twinkling of an eye, and as he was prone to coveting
the property of others, he fixed his eyes, full of affectionate
longing, on his neighbor's plate. Active, adroit, and watching his
opportunity, he seized the moment when the priest was carrying his
glass to his lips; to extend his paw, seize a truffle, and swallow
it, was the work of but half a second. Beside himself with
indignation, the holy man turned quickly and looked at the robber
with flashing eyes. The monkey was but little affected by his