"In my bed. It seems to me that after travelling two hundred leagues it is high time to go to bed."
"Monsieur Castorin," said Canolles, "you are a clown."
"If monsieur considers a clown unworthy to be his servant, monsieur has but to say the word, and I will relieve him of my services," rejoined Castorin, with his most majestic air.
Canolles was not in a patient mood, and if Castorin had possessed the power to catch a glimpse even of the shadow of the storm that was brewing in his master's mind, it is certain that, however anxious he might have been to be free, he would have chosen another time to hazard the suggestion. Canolles walked up to him, and took one of the buttons of his doublet between his thumb and forefinger,—the familiar trick, long afterwards, of a much greater man than poor Canolles ever was.
"Say that again," said he.
"I say," rejoined Castorin with unabated impudence, "that if monsieur is not content with me I will relieve monsieur of my services."
Canolles let go the button, and went gravely to get his cane. Castorin was not slow to grasp the meaning of that manœuvre.
"Monsieur," he cried, "beware what you do! I am no longer a common valet; I am in the service of Madame la Princesse!"
"Oho!" said Canolles, lowering the cane which was already in the air; "oho! you are in the service of Madame la Princesse?"
"Yes, monsieur, since half an hour ago."