During the time this interview lasted the Beaumont coach, which left
Paris at one o'clock, had stopped before the gates of the chateau, and
deposited Maitre Crottat, the notary, who was shown, according to the
count's orders, into the salon, where he found his clerk, extremely
subdued in manner, and the two painters, all three of them painfully
self-conscious and embarrassed. Monsieur de Reybert, a man of fifty,
with a crabbed expression of face, was also there, accompanied by old
Margueron and the notary of Beaumont, who held in his hand a bundle of
deeds and other papers.

When these various personages saw the count in evening dress, and
wearing his orders, Georges Marest had a slight sensation of colic,
Joseph Bridau quivered, but Mistigris, who was conscious of being in
his Sunday clothes, and had, moreover, nothing on his conscience,
remarked, in a sufficiently loud tone:--

"Well, he looks a great deal better like that."

"Little scamp," said the count, catching him by the ear, "we are both
in the decoration business. I hope you recognize your own work, my
dear Schinner," he added, pointing to the ceiling of the salon.

"Monseigneur," replied the artist, "I did wrong to take such a
celebrated name out of mere bravado; but this day will oblige me to do
fine things for you, and so bring credit on my own name of Joseph
Bridau."

"You took up my defence," said the count, hastily; "and I hope you
will give me the pleasure of dining with me, as well as my lively
friend Mistigris."