Dubois was seldom of the number, his bad health forbade it; and this was the time chosen to pick him to pieces, at which the regent would laugh as heartily as any one. Dubois knew that he often furnished the amusement of these suppers, but he also knew that by the morning the regent invariably forgot what had been said the night before, and so he cared little about it.
Dubois, however, watched while the regent supped or slept, and seemed indefatigable; he appeared to have the gift of ubiquity.
When he returned from Rambouillet, he called Maitre Tapin, who had returned on horseback, and talked with him for an hour, after which he slept for four or five, then, rising, he presented himself at the door of his royal highness; the regent was still asleep.
Dubois approached the bed and contemplated him with a smile which at once resembled that of an ape and a demon.
At length he decided to wake him.
"Hola, monseigneur, wake up!" he cried.
The duke opened his eyes, and seeing Dubois, he turned his face to the wall, saying—
"Ah! is that you, abbe; go to the devil!"
"Monseigneur, I have just been there, but he was too busy to receive me, and sent me to you."
"Leave me alone; I am tired."