re d'hotel!" said Fouquet to Gourville.

"Yes, monseigneur," replied the latter.

"What can he have been doing at the sign of L'Image-de-Notre-Dame?"

"Buying wine, no doubt."

"What! buy wine for me, at a cabaret?" said Fouquet. "My cellar, then,
must be in a miserable condition!" and he advanced towards the maitre
d'hotel who was arranging his bottles in the carriage with the most
minute care.

"Hola! Vatel," said he, in the voice of a master.

"Take care, monseigneur!" said Gourville, "you will be recognized."

"Very well! Of what consequence?--Vatel!

The man dressed in black and violet turned round. He had a good and
mild countenance, without expression--a mathematician minus the pride. A
certain fire sparkled in the eyes of this personage, a rather sly smile
played round his lips; but the observer might soon have remarked that
this fire and this smile applied to nothing, enlightened nothing. Vatel
laughed like an absent man, and amused himself like a child. At
the sound of his master's voice he turned round, exclaiming: "Oh!
monseigneur!"

"Yes, it is I. What the devil are you doing here, Vatel? Wine! You are
buying wine at a cabaret in the Place de Greve!"

"But, monseigneur," said Vatel, quietly, after having darted a hostile
glance at Gourville, "why am I interfered with here? Is my cellar kept
in bad order?"

"No, certes, Vatel, no, but----"

"But what?" replied Vatel. Gourville touched Fouquet's elbow.

"Don't be angry, Vatel, I thought my cellar--your cellar--sufficiently
well stocked for us to be able to dispense with recourse to the cellar
of L'Image de-Notre-Dame."

"Eh, monsieur," said Vatel, shrinking from monseigneur to monsieur with
a degree of disdain: "your cellar is so well stocked that when certain
of your guests dine with you they have nothing to drink."

Fouquet, in great surprise, looked at Gourville. "What do you mean by
that?"

"I mean that your butler had not wine for all tastes, monsieur; and that
M. de la Fontaine, M. Pellisson, and M. Conrart, do not drink when they
come to the house--these gentlemen do not like strong wine. What is to
be done, then?"

"Well, and therefore?"

"Well, then, I have found here a vin de Joigny, which they like. I know
they come once a week to drink at the Image-de-Notre-Dame. That is the
reason I am making this provision."

Fouquet had no more to say; he was convinced. Vatel, on his part, had
much more to say, without doubt, and it was