"A handsome likeness!" said Pittrino.

"And what a lofty carriage he has!" added Madame Cropole, already in
promiscuous commentary with her neighbors of both sexes.

Cropole was feeding their gossip with his own personal remarks, without
observing that an old man on foot, but leading a small Irish horse by the
bridle, was endeavoring to penetrate the crowd of men and women which
blocked up the entrance to the _Medici_. But at that moment the voice of
the stranger was heard from the window.

"Make way, monsieur l'hotelier, to the entrance of your house!"

Cropole turned around, and, on seeing the old man, cleared a passage for
him.

The window was instantly closed.

Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly-arrived guest, who entered
without uttering a word.

The stranger waited for him on the landing; he opened his arms to the old
man, and led him to a seat.

"Oh, no, no, my lord!" said he. "Sit down in your presence? - never!"

"Parry," cried the gentleman, "I beg you will; you come from England -
you come so far. Ah! it is not for your age to undergo the fatigues my
service requires. Rest yourself."