"Deuce take it! It is very unfortunate for the oxen that he has not finished that work yet!"
"There's another daughter too, but she is a widow: very good-looking still, but rather a flirt, I am inclined to think. And then there is a brother of the marquis; and he is good nature personified! However, messieurs, you will see the whole family to-morrow; indeed, I intend to ask them to pass some time at my château."
The young men were about to leave the courtyard, when Monsieur Férulus, who had disappeared for a moment, ran back and detained Robineau, saying:
"You know, Monseigneur de la Roche-Noire, that I have engaged a full staff of servants; but you have not yet had the opportunity to see them all. By the way, I have deemed it proper to give them names more befitting their employment than those which they formerly bore. I have just called your household together in the large gallery; do you care to pass them in review?"
"It seems to me that that is the correct thing to do," said Robineau; "I ought at least to know all the people who are in my pay. Let us go to pass my servants in review."
They went to the gallery, where all the domestics of the château were assembled. Monsieur Férulus, who was very fond of ceremonials, had drawn up all the servants in a line, ordering each of them to hold in his hand some implement of his profession. The concierge had his keys, the gardener a spade, François a switch for beating clothes, the coachman a whip, the groom a cap, the scullions larding-needles, Mademoiselle Cheval a saucepan, and Jeannette, who had found no warming pan in the château, held a foot-warmer under her arm.
"Excellent! this looks exceedingly well," said Robineau, halting in front of them; "nine servants, to say nothing of the horses and dogs; that is very nice."
"Allow me, monseigneur, to tell you the new name of each one," said Férulus; and taking his stand before one after another, and pointing to them with a stick, as if he were exhibiting wax figures, he began with the concierge.
"This, monseigneur, is your concierge. Instead of Cunette, an unseemly name, which suggests a rebus, we will call him, with your permission, Custos, which, as you well know, is the Latin for guardian;--you hear, your name is Custos."