"Ah! people say he has been infected with a sort of craze, which a gentleman from Paris caused him when he passed by here."
"And so he wishes to kill the gentleman from Paris?" "Yes, he wishes to kill him."
"Outright."
"Without mercy."
"Suppose the gentleman from Paris suddenly said to him, 'Here I am!' What would he do."
"Oh! he would fall down dead in a fit, without a doubt."
"All right, postilion. When you return, you tell your master that M. Alexandre Dumas has passed by, that he wishes him long life and all kinds of prosperity. Now start!"
"Ah! that's a good joke!" said the postilion, setting off at a galop. "Ah! Yes, I'll tell him, indeed! he shall know it, and how he will tear his hair at not having recognised you.... Come! Grise, come, gee up!"
My companion was very thoughtful.