"I don't know his name," La Trape answered. "He was a Spaniard."

"Well?"

"Who wanted to have an audience of your excellency."

"Ho!" I said drily. "Now I understand. Bring me your book.
Or, tell me, what have you charged me for these balls?"

"Two francs," he muttered reluctantly.

"And never gave a sou, I'll swear!" I retorted. "You took the
poor devil's balls, and left him at the gate! Ay, it is rogues
like you get me a bad name!" I continued, affecting more anger
than I felt--for, in truth, I was rather pleased with my
quickness in discovering the cheat. "You steal and I bear the
blame, and pay to boot! Off with you and find the fellow, and
bring him to me, or it will be the worse for you!"

Glad to escape so easily, La Trape ran to the gate; but he failed
to find his friend, and two or three days elapsed before I
thought again of the matter, such petty rogueries being ingrained
in a great man's VALETAILLE, and being no more to be removed than
the hairs from a man's arm. At the end of that time La Trape
came to me, bringing the Spaniard; who had appeared again at the
gate. The stranger proved to be a small, slight man, pale and
yet brown, with quick-glancing eyes. His dress was decent, but
very poor, with more than one rent neatly darned. He made me a
profound reverence, and stood waiting, with his cap in his hand,
to be addressed; but, with all his humility, I did not fail to