He was a good enough lad, but as grand as a peacock, and as lazy as a dormouse.

He made great friends with an old Alsatian, called Fritz, who was the conductor of the orchestra, and by-and-by both were so fond of each other, that one day they went off in each other's company.

Now you want to know what has become of Fritz?
I know Vigoureux will get tired of this prolonged string of questions, and behave violently; then you will threaten him for having carried off a youth of tender years, and he will calm down, and become as mild as mother's milk, and will promise to gain information for you.

In a week he will give the information that Fritz is to be found at the Hospital Magloire." Absolutely dumb with surprise, the audience listened to these strange assertions, which dovetailed so exactly into each other, and seemed to have been the work of years of research.
"Fritz," continued Mascarin, "is a sly old dog.

You will find an old, rickety, blue-eyed man at the hospital, and remember to tell the Duke de Champdoce that he must not put too much faith in him.