“What?”
“Your ignorance, sir. In France we decapitate noblemen.”
“You may arrange this, if you can, with the executioner,” replied Cagliostro.
M. de Favras said no more. There was a general silence and shrinking for a few minutes.
“Do you know that I tremble at last,” said M. de Launay; “my predecessors have come off so badly, that I fear for myself if I now take my turn.”
“Then you are more reasonable than they; you are right. Do not seek to know the future; good or bad, let it rest—it is in the hands of God.”
“Oh! M. de Launay,” said Madame Dubarry, “I hope you will not be less courageous than the others have been.”
“I hope so, too, madame,” said the governor. Then, turning to Cagliostro, “Sir,” he said, “favor me, in my turn, with my horoscope, if you please.”
“It is easy,” replied Cagliostro; “a blow on the head with a hatchet, and all will be over.”
A look of dismay was once more general. Richelieu and Taverney begged Cagliostro to say no more, but female curiosity carried the day.