Chapter 6 - Page 2

neglect so excellent an
opportunity."

"He should be at Paris by this time."

"He will take the direct road perhaps to make up for lost time."

"Where is he now?"

"At Orleans."

"Monsieur," said De Guiche, "you seem to me a man of very good taste."

Malicorne was wearing some of Manicamp's old-new clothes. He bowed in
return, saying, "You do me a very great honor, monsieur le comte."

"Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"

"My name is Malicorne, monsieur."

"M. de Malicorne, what do you think of these pistol-holsters?"

Malicorne was a man of great readiness and immediately understood the
position of affairs. Besides, the "de" which had been prefixed to his
name, raised him to the rank of the person with whom he was conversing.
He looked at the holsters with the air of a connoisseur and said, without
hesitation: "Somewhat heavy, monsieur."

"You see," said De Guiche to the saddler, "this gentleman, who
understands these matters well, thinks the holsters heavy, a complaint I
had already made." The saddler was full of excuses.

"What do you think," asked De Guiche, "of this horse, which I have just
purchased?"

"To look at it, it seems perfect, monsieur le comte; but I must mount it
before I give you my opinion."

"Do so, M. de Malicorne, and ride him round the court two or three times."

The courtyard of the hotel was so arranged, that whenever there was any
occasion for it, it could be used as a riding-school. Malicorne, with
perfect ease, arranged the bridle and snaffle-reins, placed his left hand
on the horse's mane, and, with his foot in the stirrup, raised himself
and seated himself in the saddle. At first, he made the horse walk the
whole circuit of the court-yard at a foot-pace; next at a trot; lastly at
a gallop. He then drew up close to the count, dismounted, and threw the
bridle to a groom standing by. "Well," said the count, "what do you
think of it, M. de Malicorne?"

"This horse, monsieur le comte, is of the Mecklenburg breed. In looking
whether the bit suited his mouth, I saw that he was rising seven, the
very age when the training of a horse intended for a charger should
commence. The forehand is light. A horse which holds its head high, it
is said, never tires his rider's hand. The withers are rather low. The
drooping of the hind-quarters would almost make me doubt the purity of
its German breed, and I think there is English blood in him. He stands
well on his legs, but he trots high, and may cut himself, which requires
attention to be paid to his shoeing. He is tractable; and as I made him
turn round and change his feet, I found him quick and ready in doing so."

"Well said, M. de Malicorne,"