“Ah! compère, that sounds much like magic; if you are possessed, tell me so frankly; for, really a man who walks and makes discourses in his sleep in which he attacks the king is not natural. Vade retro, Satanas!”
“Then,” cried Gorenflot, “you abandon me also. Ah! I could not have believed that of you.”
Chicot took pity on him. “What did you tell me just now?” said he.
“I do not know; I feel half mad, and my stomach is empty.”
“You spoke of traveling.”
“Yes, the holy prior sends me.”
“Where to?”
“Wherever I like.”
“I also am traveling, and will take you with me.”
Gorenflot looked bewildered.