"All three heads."
"As a man, he is from sixty to sixty-two years old, and he belongs to that iron race which fought the wars of the Revolution and the Empire. He will be night and day in the saddle, and not leave us an instant's rest."
"Very good," said Louis Renaud, laughing. "Then we'll try to tire him out; and as we are, none of us, half his age we shall be very unlucky or very stupid if we fail."
"His opinions?" asked Petit-Pierre.
"At heart I believe him to be a republican."
"In spite of twelve years' service under the Empire! He must have been dyed in the wool."
"There are many like him. You remember what Henri IV. said of the Leaguers,--'The barrel smells of the herring.'"
"His character?"
"Oh, as for that, loyalty itself! He is neither an Amadis nor a Galahad. He's a Ferragus, and if ever Madame had the misfortune to fall into his hands--"