“Madame de Godollo,” replied Thuillier, “is not at all what you suppose her to be, and the best thing this house can do is never to say one word about her, either good or evil.  As for la Peyrade, as this is not the first time he has been requested to go and see Monsieur du Portail, I am surprised that he hesitates to do so.”

“Ah ca!” said Brigitte, “that little old man has completely befooled you.”

“I tell you that that little old man is all that he appears to be.  He wears seven crosses, he drives in a splendid equipage, and he has told me things that have overwhelmed me with astonishment.”

“Well, perhaps he’s a fortune-teller like Madame Fontaine, who managed once upon a time to upset me when Madame Minard and I, just to amuse ourselves, went to consult her.”

“Well, if he is not a sorcerer he certainly has a very long arm,” said Thuillier, “and I think a man would suffer for it if he didn’t respect his advice.  As for you, Brigitte, he saw you only for a minute, but he told me your whole character; he said you were a masterful woman, born to command.”

“The fact is,” said Brigitte, licking her chops at this compliment, like a cat drinking cream, “he has a very well-bred air, that little old fellow.  You take my advice, my dear,” she said, turning to la Peyrade; “if such a very big-wig as that wants you to do so, go and see this du Portail, whoever he is.  That, it seems to me, won’t bind you to anything.”

“You are right, Brigitte,” said Colleville; “as for me, I’d follow up all the Portails, or Port_ers_, or Port_ents_ for the matter of that, if they asked me to.”

The scene was beginning to resemble that in the “Barber of Seville,” where everybody tells Basil to go to bed, for he certainly has a fever.  La Peyrade, thus prodded, picked up his hat in some ill-humor, and went where his destiny called him,—­“quo sua fata vocabant.”

CHAPTER XV

AT DU PORTAIL’S

On reaching the rue Honore-Chevalier la Peyrade felt a doubt; the dilapidated appearance of the house to which he was summoned made him think he had mistaken the number.  It seemed to him that a person of Monsieur du Portail’s evident importance could not inhabit such a place.  It was therefore with some hesitation that he accosted Sieur Perrache, the porter.  But no sooner had he entered the antechamber of the apartment pointed out to him than the excellent deportment of Bruneau, the old valet, and the extremely comfortable appearance of the furniture and other appointments made him see that he was probably in the right place.  Introduced at once, as soon as he had given his name, into the study of the master of the house, his surprise was great when he found himself in presence of the commander, so called, the friend of Madame de Godollo, and the little old man he had seen half an hour earlier with Thuillier.

“At last!” said du Portail, rising, and offering la Peyrade a chair, “at last we meet, my refractory friend; it has taken a good deal to bring you here.”