On the road, M. Milliet told me that this same magisterial historian
was also a noted gourmet. Since Brillat-Savarin it has been the
fashion for magistrates to be epicures. Unfortunately, many are
content to be gourmands, which is not at all the same thing.

We were ushered into the magistrate's study. I found a man with a
shiny face and a sneering smile. He greeted me with that protecting
air which historians deign to assume toward poets.

"Well, sir," he said to me, "so you have come to our poor country
in search of material for your novel?"

"No, sir; I have my material already. I have come simply to consult
your historical documents."

"Good! I did not know that it was necessary to give one's self
so much trouble in order to write novels."

"There you are in error, sir; at least in my instance. I am in
the habit of making exhaustive researches upon all the historical
events of which I treat."

"You might at least have sent some one else."

"Any person whom I might send, sir, not being so completely absorbed
in my subject, might have overlooked many important facts. Then,
too, I make use of many localities which I cannot describe unless
I see them."

"Oh, then this is a novel which you intend writing yourself?"