“Yes, in good truth. Have you no idea of what I am about to become?”
“Why, I suppose, what you have always been, monseigneur,—a valiant prince, and an excellent gentleman.”
“I am going to become an African prince,—a Bedouin gentleman. The king is sending me to make conquests among the Arabs.”
“What is this you tell me, monseigneur?”
“Strange, is it not? I, the Parisian par essence, I who have reigned in the faubourgs, and have been called King of the Halles,—I am going to pass from the Place Maubert to the minarets of Gigelli; from a Frondeur I am becoming an adventurer!”
“Oh, monseigneur, if you did not yourself tell me that—”
“It would not be credible, would it? Believe me, nevertheless, and we have but to bid each other farewell. This is what comes of getting into favor again.”
“Into favor?”
“Yes. You smile. Ah, my dear count, do you know why I have accepted this enterprise, can you guess?”
“Because your highness loves glory above—everything.”