ims, seating them at its tables,
and supplying them with food.

"Is there nobody here?" called M. de Guersaint after waiting a moment.

At last a little man made his appearance, Cazaban himself, a type of the
knotty but active Pyrenean, with a long face, prominent cheek-bones, and
a sunburned complexion spotted here and there with red. His big,
glittering eyes never remained still; and the whole of his spare little
figure quivered with incessant exuberance of speech and gesture.

"For you, monsieur--a shave, eh?" said he. "I must beg your pardon for
keeping you waiting; but my assistant has gone out, and I was in there
with my boarders. If you will kindly sit down, I will attend to you at
once."

Thereupon, deigning to operate in person, Cazaban began to stir up the
lather and strop the razor. He had glanced rather nervously, however, at
the cassock worn by Pierre, who without a word had seated himself in a
corner and taken up a newspaper in the perusal of which he appeared to be
absorbed.

A short interval of silence followed; but it was fraught with suffering
for Cazaban, and whilst lathering his customer's chin he began to
chatter: "My boarders lingered this morning such a long time at the
Grotto, monsieur, that they have scarcely sat down to _dejeuner_. You can
hear them, eh? I was staying with them out of politeness. However, I owe
myself to my customers as well, do I not? One must try to please
everybody."

M. de Guersaint, who also was fond of a chat, thereupon began to question
him: "You lodge some of the pilgrims, I suppose?"

"Oh! we all lodge some of them, monsieur; it is necessary for the town,"
replied the barber.

"And you accompany them to the Grotto?"

At this, however, Cazaban revolted, and, holding up his razor, he
answered with an air of dignity "Never, monsieur, never! For five years
past I have not been in that new town which they are building."

He was still seeking to restrain himself, and again glanced at Pierre,
whose face was hidden by the newspaper. The sight of the red cross pinned
on M. de Guersaint's jacket was also calculated to render him prudent;
nevertheless his tongue won the victory. "Well, monsieur, opinions are
free, are they not?" said he. "I respect yours, but for my part I don't
believe in all that phantasmagoria! Oh I've never concealed it! I was
already a republican and a freethinker in the days of the Empire. There
were barely four men of those views in the whole t