“Perhaps.”
“You would not laugh if your Gorenflot was about to die.”
“It does not depend upon me, but on the king; he alone has the power of life and death.”
At this moment lights appeared, and a crowd of embroidered dresses and swords shining in the light of the torches.
“Ah! Chicot! my dear Chicot, how glad I am to see you,” cried the king.
“You hear, good M. Chicot,” whispered Gorenflot, “this great prince is glad to see you.”
“Well?”
“Well! in his happiness he would not refuse you a favor; ask for my pardon.”
“What! from Herod?”
“Oh! silence, dear M. Chicot.”