M. Ducorneau, therefore, paid the compliments in French.
“Oh, it is very convenient that you speak French so well, M. Ducorno,” said the ambassador.
“He takes me for a Portuguese,” thought the chancellor, with joy.
“Now,” said Manoël, “can I have supper?”
“Certainly, your excellency. The Palais Royal is only two steps from here, and I know an excellent restaurant, from which your excellency can have a good supper in a very short time.”
“Order it in your own name, if you please, M. Ducorno.”
“And if your excellency will permit me, I will add to it some bottles of capital wine.”
“Oh, our chancellor keeps a good cellar, then?” said Beausire, jokingly.
“It is my only luxury,” replied he. And now, by the wax-lights, they could remark his rather red nose and puffed cheeks.
“Very well, M. Ducorno; bring your wine, and sup with us.”