of parts, that is clear to
me. It has been clear since first I met you. I can read a man. I knew
you from the moment that you said 'good-morning.' Tell me, now: Do
you think you could assist me upon occasion in the preparation of a
scenario? My mind, fully engaged as it is with a thousand details of
organization, is not always as clear as I would have it for such work.
Could you assist me there, do you think?"

"I am quite sure I could."

"Hum, yes. I was sure you would be. The other duties that were
Felicien's you would soon learn. Well, well, if you are willing, you may
come along with us. You'd want some salary, I suppose?"

"If it is usual," said Andre-Louis.

"What should you say to ten livres a month?"

"I should say that it isn't exactly the riches of Peru."

"I might go as far as fifteen," said Binet, reluctantly. "But times are
bad."

"I'll make them better for you."

"I've no doubt you believe it. Then we understand each other?"

"Perfectly," said Andre-Louis, dryly, and was thus committed to the
service of Thespis.

CHAPTER II. THE COMIC MUSE

The company's entrance into the township of Guichen, if not exactly
triumphal, as Binet had expressed the desire that it should be, was at
least sufficiently startling and cacophonous to set the rustics gaping.
To them these fantastic creatures appeared--as indeed they were--beings
from another world.

First went the great travelling chaise, creaking and groaning on its
way, drawn by two of the Flemish horses. It was Pantaloon who drove it,
an obese and massive Pantaloon in a tight-fitting suit of scarlet under
a long brown bed-gown, his countenance adorned by a colossal cardboard
nose. Beside him on the box sat Pierrot in a white smock, with sleeves
that completely covered his hands, loose white trousers, and a black
skull-cap. He had whitened his face with flour, and he made hideous
noises with a trumpet.

On the roof of the coach were assembled Polichinelle, Scaramouche,
Harlequin, and Pasquariel. Polichinelle in black and white, his doublet
cut in the fashion of a century ago, with humps before and behind, a
white frill round his neck and a black mask upon the upper half of his
face, stood in the middle, his feet planted wide to steady him, solemnly
and viciously banging a big drum. The other three were seated each at
one of the corners of the roof, their legs dangling over. Scaramouche,
all in black in the Spanish fashion of the seventeent