"Pardon, pardon, Matemoizelle Perrine, put if Satan comes I must tell you not to count on me; I will fight mit men, ja, all you choose, put not mit der Teufel."
"Never mind! I will fight him if he comes, Dame Perrine," said Jacques Aubry. "Go on, and don't be afraid."
"Is there a charcoal-purner in your story, Matemoizelle Perrine?" queried Hermann.
"A charcoal-burner? No, Monsieur Hermann."
"All right; it's all the same."
"Why a charcoal-burner?"
"Because in all the Cherman stories there is a charcoal-purner. Put never mind, it must be a fine story all the same. Go on, Matemoizelle Perrine."
"You must know, then," began Dame Perrine, "that there was formerly on this spot where we now sit, and before the Hôtel de Nesle was built, a community of monks, composed of the handsomest men ever seen, the shortest of whom was as tall as Monsieur Hermann."
"Peste! what a community that must have been!" cried Jacques Aubry.
"Be quiet, babbler!" said Scozzone.