The young man jumped to the ground, and assisted mechanically to remove
the sacks. The servile manner of the lawyer did not strike him, nor did
he listen to the conversation between him and his father. Finally, the
business being concluded, they took their departure, and, driving to the
Market Place, put up the horse and cart at an old-fashioned, dingy inn,
where they took their breakfast in the public room at a table where
the wagoners were having a violent quarrel over their meal. The Duke,
however, had other business to transact than the investment of his
money, for he wanted to find the whereabouts of a miller who was
somewhat in his debt. Norbert waited for him in front of the inn, and
could not help feeling rather uncomfortable at finding himself alone.
All at once some one came up and touched him lightly on the shoulder. He
turned round sharply, and found himself face to face with a young man,
who, seeing his look of surprise, said,--

"What! have you entirely forgotten your old friend Montlouis?"

Montlouis was the son of one of the Duke's farmers, and he and Norbert
had often played together in past years. They had driven their cows
to the meadows together, and had spent long days together fishing or
searching for birds' nests. The dress now worn by Montlouis had at
first prevented Norbert from recognizing him, for he was attired in
the uniform of the college at which his father had placed him, being
desirous of making something more than a mere farmer of his son.

"What are you doing here?" asked Norbert.

"I am waiting for my father."