ho gave to Comte
l'Ancien a similar proof of devotion to that which you give me."

"Monsieur," answered the footman modestly, "I am called Bourguignon, and
here is my comrade Comtois, whose turn for devotion will come to-morrow,
and who, when the moment shall have arrived, will not be behindhand.
Comtois, my friend, a slice of that pheasant, and a glass of champagne.
Do you not see that, in order to reassure monsieur completely, I must
taste everything; it is a severe test, I know, but where would be the
merit of being an honest man if it did not sometimes bring trials like
the present? To your health, Monsieur Buvat."

"Heaven preserve yours, Monsieur Bourguignon."

"Now, Comtois, hand me the dessert, so that I may leave no doubt on
Monsieur Buvat's mind."

"Monsieur Bourguignon, I beg you to believe that, if I had any, they are
completely dissipated."

"No, monsieur, no, I beg your pardon, you still have some. Comtois, my
friend, now the hot coffee, very hot; I wish to drink it exactly as
monsieur would have done, and I presume it is thus that monsieur likes
it."

"Boiling, monsieur, boiling," answered Buvat, bowing.

"Oh!" said Bourguignon, sipping his coffee, and raising his eyes
blissfully to the ceiling, "you are right, monsieur. It is only so that
coffee is good--half-cold it is a very second-rate beverage. This, I may
say, is excellent. Comtois, my friend, receive my compliments, you wait
admirably; now help me to take away the table. You ought to know that
there is nothing more unpleasant than the smell of wines and viands to
those who are not hungry nor thirsty. Monsieur," continued Bourguignon,
stepping toward the door, which he had carefully shut during the repast,
and which he opened while his companion pushed the table before him,
"monsieur, if you have need of anything, you have three bells, one at
the head of your bed, and two at the mantelpiece. Those at the fireplace
are for us, that at the bed for your valet-de-chambre."

"Thank you, monsieur," said Buvat, "you are too good. I do not wish to
disturb any one."

"Do not trouble yourself about that, monsieur--monseigneur desires that
you should make yourself at home."

"Monseigneur is very polite."

"Does monsieur require anything else?"

"Nothing more, my friend, nothing more," said Buvat, touched by so much
devotion; "nothing, except to express my gratitude."

"I have only done my duty, monsieur," answered Bourguignon, modestly,
bowing