After this brief reply ensued a long interval of silence, broken only by the convulsive beating of the heel of the young man on the floor.
The old man endeavored to change the conversation; it was leading to thoughts much too sinister.
“My lord,” said he, “what is the meaning of all the noise which preceded me? What are these people crying ‘Vive le Roi!’ for? What king do they mean? and what are all these lights for?”
“Ah! Parry,” replied the young man ironically, “don’t you know that this is the King of France visiting his good city of Blois? All those trumpets are his, all those gilded housings are his, all those gentlemen wear swords that are his. His mother precedes him in a carriage magnificently encrusted with silver and gold. Happy mother! His minister heaps up millions, and conducts him to a rich bride. Then all these people rejoice, they love their king, they hail him with their acclamations, and they cry, ‘Vive le Roi! Vive le Roi!’”
“Well, well, my lord,” said Parry, more uneasy at the turn the conversation had taken than at the other.
“You know,” resumed the unknown, “that my mother and my sister, whilst all this is going on in honor of the King of France, have neither money nor bread; you know that I myself shall be poor and degraded within a fortnight, when all Europe will become acquainted with what you have told me. Parry, are there not examples in which a man of my condition should himself——”
“My lord, in the name of Heaven——”
“You are right, Parry, I am a coward, and if I do nothing for myself, what will God do? No, no, I have two arms, Parry, and I have a sword.” And he struck his arm violently with his hand and took down his sword, which hung against the wall.
“What are you going to do, my lord?”
“What am I going to do, Parry? What every one in my family does. My mother lives on public charity, my sister begs for my mother; I have, somewhere or other, brothers who equally beg for themselves; and I, the eldest, will go and do as all the rest do—I will go and ask charity!”