ulty in the way
than that."

"Very well; in that case make yourself easy. I will do my best."

"Do."

De Guiche approached, Malicorne stepped aside, and Manicamp caught
hold of De Guiche, who was thoughtful and melancholy. "Tell me, my dear
comte, what rhyme you were trying to find," said Manicamp. "I have an
excellent one to match yours, particularly if yours ends in _ame_."

De Guiche shook his head, and recognizing a friend, he took him by the
arm. "My dear Manicamp," he said, "I am in search of something very
different from a rhyme."

"What is it you are looking for?"

"You will help me to find what I am in search of," continued the comte:
"you who are such an idle fellow, in other words, a man with a mind full
of ingenious devices."

"I am getting my ingenuity ready, then, my dear comte."

"This is the state of the case, then: I wish to approach a particular
house, where I have some business."

"You must get near the house, then," said Manicamp.

"Very good; but in this house dwells a husband who happens to be
jealous."

"Is he more jealous than the dog Cerberus?"

"Not more, but quite as much so."

"Has he three mouths, as that obdurate guardian of the infernal regions
had? Do not shrug your shoulders, my dear comte: I put the question
to you with an excellent reason, since poets pretend that, in order to
soften Monsieur Cerberus, the visitor must take something enticing
with him--a cake, for instance. Therefore, I, who view the matter in a
prosaic light, that is to say in the light of reality, I say: one cake
is very little for three mouths. If your jealous husband has three
mouths, comte, get three cakes."

"Manicamp, I can get such advice as that from M. de Beautru."

"In order to get better advice," said Manicamp, with a comical
seriousness of expression, "you will be obliged to adopt a more precise
formula than you have used towards me."

"If Raoul were here," said De Guiche, "he would be sure to understand
me."

"So I think, particularly if you said to him: 'I should very much
like to see Madame a little nearer, but I fear Monsieur, because he is
jealous.'"

"Manicamp!" cried the comte, angrily, and endeavoring to overwhelm his
tormentor by a look, who did not, however, appear to be in the slightest
degree disturbed by it.

"What is the matter now, my dear comte?" inquired Manicamp.

"What! is it thus you blaspheme the most sacred of names?"

"What names?"

"Monsieur! Madame! t