I did!"
"Oh, the cursed luck is every day mine!" replied Master Pothier,
clapping his hands upon his stomach. "I would not have missed that
Easter pie--no, not to draw the Pope's will! But, as it is laid
down in the Coutume d' Orleans (Tit. 17), the absent lose the
usufruct of their rights; vide, also, Pothier des Successions--
I lost my share of the pie of Belmont!"
"Well, never mind, Master Pothier," replied Max. "Don't grieve;
you shall go with us to-night to the Fleur-de-Lis in the Sault au
Matelot. Bartemy and I have bespoken an eel pie and a gallon of
humming cider of Normandy. We shall all be jolly as the
marguilliers of Ste. Roche, after tithing the parish!"
"Have with you, then! I am free now: I have just delivered a letter
to the Intendant from a lady at Beaumanoir, and got a crown for it.
I will lay it on top of your eel pie, Max!"
Angelique, from being simply amused at the conversation of the old
beggars, became in an instant all eyes and ears at the words of
Master Pothier.
"Had you ever the fortune to see that lady at Beaumanoir?" asked
Max, with more curiosity than was to be expected of one in his
position.
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