"Do so; it will be a meritorious action on your part; go, my dear viscount, and say to Benvenuto from me that he will see me this evening. Three knocks, rather loud, is the signal, you know. He adopted that precaution on account of that great oaf of a Marmagne, who is likely, so he imagines, to try to play him some scurvy trick. Do you know this Vicomte de Marmagne?"
"No."
"Ah! so much the worse! You might have described him to me."
"What for?"
"So that I might suggest a little game with clubs to him, if I should fall in with him. I don't know why it is, but although I never saw him, do you know I particularly detest your Marmagne, my dear fellow, and if he ever falls in my way, I propose to pummel him in fine shape. But pardon me: here we are at the Augustins, and I am compelled to leave you. By the way, what is your name, my friend?"
The viscount walked away as if he did not hear the question.
"Aha!" said Jacques Aubry, "it seems that we prefer to remain incog; that's the purest chivalry, or I don't know myself. As you please, my dear viscount, as you please."
And Jacques Aubry thrust his hands in his pockets and strutted down Rue de Battoir, at the end of which Gervaise lived, whistling a student's song.
The Vicomte de Marmagne continued his journey toward the Grand-Nesle.
Benvenuto was in fact alone, as Jacques Aubry had said; Ascanio had wandered away, I know not where, to dream; Catherine had gone with Ruperta to visit one of her friends, and all the workmen and apprentices were holiday making at Vanvres.