“Poor devil!” said the king, “take good care of him.”
“Oh! be easy, sire, he will want for nothing with me.”
“Oh! M. Chicot, dear M. Chicot,” cried Gorenflot, “where am I to be taken to?”
“You will know soon. Meanwhile, monster of iniquity, thank his majesty.”
“What for?”
“Thank him, I tell you.”
“Sire,” stammered Gorenflot, “since your gracious majesty——”
“Yes,” interrupted Henri, “I know all you did for me, in your journey from Lyons, on the evening of the League, and again to-day. Be easy, you shall be recompensed according to your merits.”
Gorenflot sighed.
“Where is Panurge?” said Chicot.