When it became apparent that Pableau was not going to find the enchanted hoof in a day, or a week, or perhaps even a month, he decided to seek employment at one of the local bakeries. In this, fortune was with him, for the first bakery he approached needed someone to work the morning shift, opening the shop and firing the ovens. As the days passed, Pableau noticed that a certain villa, or “quinta” as he learned to call it, had a standing order for a dozen petit chou chantillies to be delivered daily. Hoping against hope that the consumer of those dozen chantillies might be the self-same shopper whose hoof he had spied reaching for a chantilly in Sagres, he ventured out to the quinta. When he arrived, he was met at the gate by the gatekeeper, who informed him he could not pass.



Fortunately, Pableau had brought a special chantilly into which he had managed to insert a triple helping of whipped cream, and when the guard saw the magnificent treat, he accepted it in exchange for Pableau’s entry to the grounds.



The love-sick baker spent the entire day watching the door of the house, which opened on several occasions, taking his breath away each time, but not once did he see the magical hoof. Finally, tired and discouraged, he returned to the bakery and his room at the back of the shop.