"I do not understand you," said Marius.
Laigle resumed:--
"Nothing is more simple.
I was close to the desk to reply, and close to the door for the purpose of flight.
The professor gazed at me with a certain intensity.
All of a sudden, Blondeau, who must be the malicious nose alluded to by Boileau, skipped to the letter L. L is my letter.
I am from Meaux, and my name is Lesgle."
"L''Aigle!" interrupted Marius, "what fine name!"
"Monsieur, Blondeau came to this fine name, and called: `Laigle!'' I reply:
`Present!'' Then Blondeau gazes at me, with the gentleness of a tiger, and says to me:
`lf you are Pontmercy, you are not Laigle.''
A phrase which has a disobliging air for you, but which was lugubrious only for me.
That said, he crossed me off."
Marius exclaimed:--
"I am mortified, sir--"
"First of all," interposed Laigle, "I demand permission to embalm Blondeau in a few phrases of deeply felt eulogium.
I will assume that he is dead.
There will be no great change required in his gauntness, in his pallor, in his coldness, and in his smell. And I say:
`Erudimini qui judicatis terram.
Here lies Blondeau, Blondeau the Nose, Blondeau Nasica, the ox of discipline, bos disciplinae, the bloodhound of the password, the angel of the roll-call, who was upright, square exact, rigid, honest, and hideous. God crossed him off as he crossed me off.''"