crowded at table but that there will be room enough for such an honest gentleman as yourself.”  At these words five-and-thirty of the guests were in motion to receive this new visitor:  the bride alone, out of an idea of decorum, remained seated; and the audacious Termes, having swallowed the first shame of this adventure, began to lay about him at such a rate, as if it had been his intention to swallow all the wine provided for the wedding, if his master had not risen from the table as they were taking off four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as many other dishes in their stead.

The company were not so unreasonable as to desire a man who was in such haste to remain to the end of a wedding dinner; but they all got up when he arose from table, and all that he could obtain from the bridegroom was that the company should not attend him to the gate of the inn.  As for Termes, he wished they had not quitted him till the end of their journey, so much did he dread being left alone with his master.

They had advanced some distance from Abbeville, and were proceeding on in the most profound silence, when Termes, who expected an end to it in a short time, was only solicitous in what manner it might happen, whether his master would attack him with a torrent of invectives, and certain epithets which were most justly his due, or whether, in an insulting, ironical manner, he might make use of such commendations as were most likely to confound him; but finding, instead of either, that he remained in sullen silence, he thought it prudent rather to prevent the speech the Chevalier was meditating than to suffer him to think longer about it; and, accordingly, arming himself with all his effrontery:  “You seem to be very angry, Sir,” said he, “and I suppose you think you have reason for being so; but the devil take me, if you are not mistaken in reality.”

“How! traitor! in reality?” said the Chevalier de Grammont.  “It is then because I have not had thee well thrashed, as thou hast for a long time merited.”  “Look ye, Sir,” replied Termes, “you always run into a passion, instead of listening to reason!  Yes, Sir, I maintain that what I did was for your benefit.”  “And was not the quicksand likewise for my service?” said the Chevalier de Grammont.  “Have patience, if you please,” pursued the other:  “I know not how that simpleton of a bridegroom happened to be at the custom-house when my portmanteau was examined at Calais:  but these silly cuckolds thrust in their noses everywhere.  As soon as ever he saw your coat, he fell in love with it.  I immediately perceived he was a fool; for he fell down upon his knees, beseeching me to sell it him.  Besides being greatly rumpled in the portmanteau, it was all stained in front by the sweat of the horses.  I wonder how the devil he has managed to get it cleaned; but, faith, I am the greatest scoundrel in the world, if you would ever have put it on.  In a word, it cost you one hundred and forty louis d’ors,