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The two visitors withdrew. "Master," said Gossip Tourangeau, as he took leave of the archdeacon, "I love wise men and great minds, and I hold you in singular esteem. Come to-morrow to the Palace des Tournelles, and inquire for the Abbe de Sainte-Martin, of Tours."
"Reverend master," he said in a grave tone, "your renown has reached my ears, and I wish to consult you. I am but a poor provincial gentleman, who removeth his shoes before entering the dwellings of the learned. You must know my name. I am called Gossip Tourangeau." "Strange name for a gentleman," said the archdeacon to himself.
Balzac says in one of his tales that the real Tourangeau will not make an effort, or displace him- self even, to go in search of a pleasure; and it is not difficult to understand the sources of this amiable cynicism. He must have a vague conviction that he can only lose by almost any change.
"Pasque-dieu, Master Claude," resumed Gossip Tourangeau, after a silence, "You embarrass me greatly. I had two things to consult you upon, one touching my health and the other touching my star." "Monsieur," returned the archdeacon, "if that be your motive, you would have done as well not to put yourself out of breath climbing my staircase. I do not believe in Medicine.
WE HAVE been having what they call "golden weather" here; but to-day the skies are overcast, which does not please us, although this cloudy weather may still be golden to the wise Tourangeau, who, as George Sand said, "knows the exact value of sun or rain at the right moment."
The archdeacon replied without perturbation: "There are certain things of which I think in a certain fashion." Coictier became crimson with anger. "There, there, my good Coictier, let us not get angry," said Gossip Tourangeau. "Monsieur the archdeacon is our friend." Coictier calmed down, muttering in a low tone, "After all, he's mad."
The human body, shadows! the planets, shadows!" And he fell back in his armchair in a commanding and inspired attitude. Gossip Touraugeau watched him in silence. Coictier tried to grin, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, and repeated in a low voice, "A madman!" "And," said Tourangeau suddenly, "the wondrous result, have you attained it, have you made gold?"
"The fault was more mine, I doubt, Le Gardeur." Angelique recollected how she had tormented him on that occasion by capricious slights, while bounteous of her smiles to others. "I was angry with you because of your too great devotion to Cecile Tourangeau." This was not true, but Angelique had no scruple to lie to a lover.
Gossip Tourangeau obeyed, and read this inscription engraved above his head: "Medicine is the daughter of dreams. Meanwhile, Doctor Jacques Coictier had heard his companion's question with a displeasure which Dom Claude's response had but redoubled. He bent down to the ear of Gossip Tourangeau, and said to him, softly enough not to be heard by the archdeacon: "I warned you that he was mad.
You first took him from me, Angelique! I ask you now to give him back to me. Give me back my brother, Angelique des Meloises!" Amelie grasped her by the arm in the earnestness of her appeal. "I took him from you?" exclaimed Angelique hotly. "It is untrue! Forgive my saying so, Amelie! I took him no more than did Heloise de Lotbiniere or Cecile Tourangeau! Will you hear the truth?
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