“When?”
“About a week ago; so that if ever your majesty’s enemies catch him he will be a dead man.”
Gorenflot heard only the last words, “a dead man”; and he covered his face with his hands.
“Worthy man,” said the king, casting a benevolent look on the mass of flesh before him, “we will cover him with our protection.”
Gorenflot perceived the nature of the look, and began to feel relieved.
“You will do well, my king,” said Chicot.
“What must we do with him?”
“I think that as long as he remains in Paris he will be in danger.”
“If I gave him guards.”
Gorenflot heard this proposition of Henri’s. “Well!” thought he, “I shall get off with imprisonment; I prefer that to beating, if they only feed me well.”