not the woman to take an affront coolly. She gave no
sign, however. Of us, it was easily seen that two of the masks were
ladies, and my large shoes, showing under my domino, revealed that I
was a man.

Monsieur Voltaire rose, his glorious eyes flashing with mirth and
pleasure, for he loved the great, he loved the flattery of women, and
he knew that only ladies of the highest quality would dare to visit
him in that manner. Gaston Cheverny and Jacques Haret rose, too, and
all bowed profoundly to the newcomers.

Madame Villars had not lived in Paris without having seen unexpected
and awkward meetings between husband and wife, but Francezka and
Gaston passed for such patterns of devotion that she thought it an
occasion for harmless merriment. She exchanged a glance and a whisper
with Francezka, which meant that both of them should maintain their
incognito by keeping silent. To all of Monsieur Voltaire's fine
speeches of welcome, therefore, they returned only demure curtsies and
seated themselves quietly on the sofa.

Gaston Cheverny was not a whit behind Monsieur Voltaire in his
compliments. Jacques Haret looked keenly at us, and it flashed through
me that he alone suspected who the ladies were. But he said no word.

"Well, Mesdames," cried Monsieur Voltaire, "since you will not favor
us with the sound of your voices, we will proceed with our affair,
which is not a private one, but concerns that most public of all
things--a lawsuit. Behold a poet trying to get a foothold of land for
himself on this earth! You remember the German poet, who describes the
first of his race, complaining to Jupiter that in the general scramble
among the sons of men the poets had got nothing at all. To this
Jupiter replied: 'While thou wert rhyming and star-gazing the strong
and the cunning seized upon the inheritance of the world. Not one
single acre remains wherewith to endow thee. But, in recompense, come
and visit me in my own heaven whenever thou wilt; it is always open to
thee.'"

The ladies applauded this sentiment by clapping their hands and
blowing airy kisses to Monsieur Voltaire, but still remained perfectly
silent.

"Come, gentlemen," continued Monsieur Voltaire mischievously, "the
ladies do not know that we are present. Let us proceed. Here is the
map of Brabant; show me, if you please, where the Honsbrouck line runs
through this forest."

I then knew that the lawsuit he alluded to was the celebrated one of
Honsbrouck, in