anger, and to celebrate the happy success of his roguery, he
capered and frisked in a ridiculous and frantic way, clinging with
his forepaws to the back of his chair. The good father shook his
head sadly, moved his plate further off, and returned to his
eating, not, however, without watching the movements of the enemy
from the corner of his eye. In vain he kept guard; in spite of his
precautions,--a new attack, a new larceny--and fresh caperings of
joy by the monkey. Father Alexis at last lost patience, and the
monkey received a vigorous blow full in the muzzle, which drew from
him a sharp shriek; but at the same instant the priest felt two
rows of teeth bury themselves in his left cheek. He could hardly
repress a cry, and gave up the game, leaving Solon to gorge himself
to his beard in the spoils, while he busied himself in stanching
his wound, from which the blood gushed freely.

The Count affected to be ignorant of all that passed; but there was
a merry sparkle in his eyes which testified that not a detail of
this tragic comedy had escaped his notice.

"You appear to distrust Solon, Father," said he, seeing that the
priest pushed back his chair and kept at a distance from the
baboon. "You are wrong. He has very sweet manners; he is
incapable of a bad action. He is only a little sad now, but in his
melancholy, he observes all the rules of good breeding; which is
not the case with all melancholy people," added he, throwing a look
at Stephane, who, taken with a sudden access of sadness, had just
leaned his elbow upon the table and made a screen of his right hand
to hide his tears from his father. Gilbert felt himself near
stifling, and as soon as he could, left the table. Fortunately no
one followed him onto the terrace. Stephane had no more flowers to