“Very sick.”

“That’s incredible!  I feel entirely well; I’m hungry; and moreover, while waiting for dinner I’ll try a glass of your schnick.”

Mme. Renault went out, gave an order, and returned in an instant.

“But tell me, then, where I am?” resumed the colonel.  “By these paraphernalia of work, I recognize a disciple of Urania; possibly a friend of Monge and Berthollet.  But the cordial friendliness impressed on your countenances proves to me that you are not natives of this land of sauerkraut.  Yes, I believe it from the beatings of my heart.  Friends, we have the same fatherland.  The kindness of your reception, even were there no other indications, would have satisfied me that you are French.  What accidents have brought you so far from our native soil?  Children of my country, what tempest has thrown you upon this inhospitable shore?”

“My dear colonel,” replied M. Nibor, “if you want to become very wise, you will not ask so many questions at once.  Allow us the pleasure of instructing you quietly and in order, for you have a great many things to learn.”

The colonel flushed with anger, and answered sharply:—­

“At all events, you are not the man to teach them to me, my little gentleman!”

A drop of blood which fell on his hand changed the current of his thoughts.

“Hold on!” said he:  “am I bleeding?”

“That will amount to nothing:  circulation is re-established, and—­and your broken ear—­”

He quickly carried his hand to his ear, and said:—­

“It’s certainly so.  But devil take me if I recollect this accident!”

“I’ll make you a little dressing, and in a couple of days there will be no trace of it left.”

“Don’t give yourself the trouble, my dear Hippocrates:  a pinch of powder is a sovereign cure!”

M. Nibor set to work to dress the ear in a little less military fashion.  During his operations Leon re-entered.

“Ah! ah!” said he to the doctor:  “you are repairing the harm I did.”

“Thunderation!” cried Fougas, escaping from the hands of M. Nibor so as to seize Leon by the collar, “was it you, you rascal, that hurt my ear?”

Leon was very good-natured, but his patience failed him.  He pushed his man roughly aside.

“Yes, sir:  it was I who tore your ear, in pulling it; and if that little misfortune had not happened to me, it is certain that you would have been to-day six feet under ground.  It is I who saved your life, after buying you with my money when you were not valued at more than twenty-five louis.  It is I who have passed three days and two nights in cramming charcoal under your boiler.  It is my father who gave you the clothes you now have on.  You are in our house.  Drink the little glass of brandy Gothon just brought you; but for God’s sake give up the habit of calling me rascal, of calling my mother ‘Good Mother,’ and of flinging our friends into the street and calling them beggarly pandours!”