“Yes, I know you are not rich, M. Ernanton de Carmainges,” said the young page.  The cavalier started, but the lad went on, “therefore I do not speak of wages; it is you, on the contrary, who, if you grant what I ask, shall be paid a hundred-fold for the service you will render me; let me enter with you, then, I beg, remembering that he who now begs, has often commanded.”  Then, turning to the group of which we have already spoken, the lad said, “I shall pass; that is the most important thing; but you, Mayneville, try to do so also if possible.”

“It is not everything that you should pass,” replied Mayneville; “it is necessary that he should see you.”

“Make yourself easy; once I am through, he shall see me.”

“Do not forget the sign agreed upon.”

“Two fingers on the mouth, is it not?”

“Yes; success attend you.”

“Well, monsieur page,” said the man on the black horse, “are you ready?”

“Here I am,” replied he, jumping lightly on the horse, behind the cavalier, who immediately joined his friends who were occupied in exhibiting their cards and proving their right to enter.

“Ventre de Biche!” said Robert Briquet; “what an arrival of Gascons!”

CHAPTER III.

The examination.

The process of examination consisted in comparing the half card with another half in the possession of the officer.

The Gascon with the bare head advanced first.

“Your name?” said De Loignac.

“It is on the card.”

“Never mind; tell it to me.”

“Well, I am called Perducas de Pincornay.”

Then, throwing his eyes on the card.  M. de Loignac read.  “Perducas de Pincornay, 26 October, 1585, at noon precisely.  Porte St. Antoine.”

“Very good; it is all right,” said he, “enter.  Now for you,” said he to the second.

The man with the cuirass advanced.

“Your card?” said De Loignac.

“What!  M. de Loignac, do you not know the son of your old friend, whom you have danced twenty times on your knee?”—­“No.”

“I am Pertinax de Montcrabeau,” replied the young man, with astonishment.  “Do you not know me now?”

“When I am on service, I know no one.  Your card, monsieur?”

He held it out.  “All right! pass,” said De Loignac.

The third now approached, whose card was demanded in the same terms.  The man plunged his hand into a little goatskin pouch which he wore, but in vain; he was so embarrassed by the child in his arms, that he could not find it.

“What the devil are you doing with that child?” asked De Loignac.

“He is my son, monsieur.”

“Well; put your son down.  You are married, then?”—–­“Yes, monsieur.”

“At twenty?”

“They marry young among us; you ought to know that, M. de Loignac, who were married at eighteen.”