by way of dramatic entertainment, assist at the sale of lands in the neighborhood of his vineyards.  In short, he led the true Tourangian life,—­the life of a little country-townsman.  He was, moreover, an important member of the bourgeoisie,—­a leader among the small proprietors, all of them envious, jealous, delighted to catch up and retail gossip and calumnies against the aristocracy; dragging things down to their own level; and at war with all kinds of superiority, which they deposited with the fine composure of ignorance.  Monsieur Vernier—­such was the name of this great little man—­was just finishing his breakfast, with his wife and daughter on either side of him, when Gaudissart entered the room through a window that looked out on the Loire and the Cher, and lighted one of the gayest dining-rooms of that gay land.

“Is this Monsieur Vernier himself?” said the traveller, bending his vertebral column with such grace that it seemed to be elastic.

“Yes, Monsieur,” said the mischievous ex-dyer, with a scrutinizing look which took in the style of man he had to deal with.

“I come, Monsieur,” resumed Gaudissart, “to solicit the aid of your knowledge and insight to guide my efforts in this district, where Mitouflet tells me you have the greatest influence.  Monsieur, I am sent into the provinces on an enterprise of the utmost importance, undertaken by bankers who—­”

“Who mean to win our tricks,” said Vernier, long used to the ways of commercial travellers and to their periodical visits.

“Precisely,” replied Gaudissart, with native impudence.  “But with your fine tact, Monsieur, you must be aware that we can’t win tricks from people unless it is their interest to play at cards.  I beg you not to confound me with the vulgar herd of travellers who succeed by humbug or importunity.  I am no longer a commercial traveller.  I was one, and I glory in it; but to-day my mission is of higher importance, and should place me, in the minds of superior people, among those who devote themselves to the enlightenment of their country.  The most distinguished bankers in Paris take part in this affair; not fictitiously, as in some shameful speculations which I call rat-traps.  No, no, nothing of the kind!  I should never condescend—­never!—­to hawk about such catch-fools.  No, Monsieur; the most respectable houses in Paris are concerned in this enterprise; and their interests guarantee—­”

Hereupon Gaudissart drew forth his whole string of phrases, and Monsieur Vernier let him go the length of his tether, listening with apparent interest which completely deceived him.  But after the word “guarantee” Vernier paid no further attention to our traveller’s rhetoric, and turned over in his mind how to play him some malicious trick and deliver a land, justly considered half-savage by speculators unable to get a bite of it, from the inroads of these Parisian caterpillars.