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Updated: May 1, 2025
Master Cropole, being called upon to settle his account with Parry, acquitted himself, it must be allowed, like an honest man; he only made his customary remark, that the two travelers had eaten nothing, which had the double disadvantage of being humiliating for his kitchen, and of forcing him to ask payment for a repast not consumed, but not the less lost.
"And I should not wish you to be thrown into prison, and myself into the oubliettes." "Let us efface 'Medici'," said Pittrino, supplicatingly. "No," replied Cropole, firmly. "I have got an idea, a sublime idea your picture shall appear, and my legend likewise. Does not 'Medici' mean doctor, or physician, in Italian?" "Yes, in the plural."
He had taken, without hesitation, without reflection even, the principal apartment which the hotelier had pointed out to him with a rapacious aim, very praiseworthy, some will say, very reprehensible will say others, if they admit that Cropole was a physiognomist and judged people at first sight.
"And I should not wish you to be thrown into prison and myself into the oubliettes." "Let us efface 'Medici," said Pittrino, supplicatingly. "No," replied Cropole, firmly. "I have got an idea, a sublime idea your picture shall appear, and my legend likewise. Does not 'Medici' mean doctor, or physician, in Italian?" "Yes, in the plural."
And this is how there was at Blois a hostelry of that name, and had for a painter-in-ordinary Master Pittrino. Thus founded and recommended by its sign, the hostelry of Master Cropole held its way steadily on towards a solid prosperity.
The unknown here again darted at Cropole one of his withering glances. "I really do not understand diamonds, monsieur, I assure you," cried he. "But the jewelers do: ask them," said the unknown. "Now I believe our accounts are settled, are they not, monsieur l'hote?" "Yes, monsieur, and to my profound regret; for I fear I have offended monsieur."
Soon the cries of the victims slaughtered in the poultry-yard, the hasty steps of Madame Cropole up that little wooden staircase, so narrow and so echoing; the bounding pace of Pittrino, who only that morning was smoking at the door with all the phlegm of a Dutchman; all this communicated something like surprise and agitation to the traveler.
"He thought most of the legend," said Cropole. "The proof of the importance in which he held the figures," said Pittrino, "is that he desired they should be likenesses, and they are so." "Yes; but if they had not been so, who would have recognized them without the legend?
At the present day even, when the memory of the Blaisois begins to be faint with regard to these two celebrated persons, who would recognize Catherine and Mary without the words 'To the Medici'?" "But the figures?" said Pittrino, in despair; for he felt that young Cropole was right. "I should not like to lose the fruit of my labor."
Cropole turned around, and, on seeing the old man, cleared a passage for him. The window was instantly closed. Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly-arrived guest, who entered without uttering a word. The stranger waited for him on the landing; he opened his arms to the old man and led him to a seat. "Oh, no, no, my lord!" said he. "Sit down in your presence? never!"
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