“Very properly so,” said Jacques.
“Behold me, then, in a red robe. I helped to give a yellow one and brimstone to a fine fellow, who was cure at Loudun, and who had got into a convent of nuns, like a wolf in a fold; and a fine thing he made of it.”
“Ha, ha, ha! That’s very droll!” laughed Jacques. “Drink,” said Houmain. “Yes, Jago, I saw him after the affair, reduced to a little black heap like this charcoal. See, this charcoal at the end of my poniard. What things we are! That’s just what we shall all come to when we go to the Devil.”
“Oh, none of these pleasantries!” said the other, very gravely. “You know that I am religious.”
“Well, I don’t say no; it may be so,” said Houmain, in the same tone. “There’s Richelieu, a Cardinal! But, no matter. Thou must know, then, as I was Advocate-General, I advocated—”
“Ah, thou art quite a wit!”
“Yes, a little. But, as I was saying, I advocated into my own pocket five hundred piastres, for Armand Duplessis pays his people well, and there’s nothing to be said against that, except that the money’s not his own; but that’s the way with us all. I determined to invest this money in our old trade; and I returned here. Business goes on well. There is sentence of death out against us; and our goods, of course, sell for half as much again as before.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Jacques; “lightning at this time of year?”
“Yes, the storms are beginning; we’ve had two already. We are in the clouds. Dost hear the roll of the thunder? But this is nothing; come, drink. ‘Tis almost one in the morning; we’ll finish the skin and the night together. As I was telling thee, I made acquaintance with our president—a great scoundrel called Laubardemont. Dost know him?”
“Yes, a little,” said Jacques; “he’s a regular miser. But never mind that; go on.”