"Who would give their soul to say, 'I bought these horses of
Rochebriant.' Of course I do. Ha! young Rameau, you are acquainted with
him?"

"Rameau! I never heard of him!"

"Vanity of vanities, then what is fame? Rameau is the editor of Le Sens
Commun. You read that journal?"

"Yes, it has clever articles, and I remember how I was absorbed in the
eloquent _romance_ which appeared in it."

"Ah! by the Signora Cicogna, with whom I think you were somewhat smitten
last year."

"Last year--was I? How a year can alter a man! But my debt to the
Prince. What has Le Sens Commun to do with my horses?"

"I met Rameau at Savarin's the other evening. He was making himself out
a hero and a martyr! his coupe had been taken from him to assist in a
barricade in that senseless _emeute_ ten days ago; the _coupe_ got
smashed, the horses disappeared. He will buy one of your horses and
_coupe_.

"Leave it to me! I know where to dispose of the other two horses. At
what hour do you want the money?"

"Before I go to dinner at the club."