Oscar looked at each other in consternation; their glances were
expressive of terrible apprehension.

"His Excellency! who is he?" said Joseph Bridau.

"Why, Monsieur le Comte de Serizy, of course," replied little Moreau.

"Could it have been the count in the coucou?" said Leon de Lora.

"Oh!" exclaimed Oscar, "the Comte de Serizy always travels in his own
carriage with four horses."

"How did the Comte de Serizy get here?" said the painter to Madame
Moreau, when she returned, much discomfited, to the salon.

"I am sure I do not know," she said. "I cannot explain to myself this
sudden arrival; nor do I know what has brought him-- And Moreau not
here!"

"His Excellency wishes Monsieur Schinner to come over to the chateau,"
said the gardener, coming to the door of the salon. "And he begs
Monsieur Schinner to give him the pleasure to dine with him; also
Monsieur Mistigris."

"Done for!" cried the rapin, laughing. "He whom we took for a
bourgeois in the coucou was the count. You may well say: 'Sour are the
curses of perversity.'"

Oscar was very nearly changed to a pillar of salt; for, at this
revelation, his throat felt saltier than the sea.