“Is it? I’m no musician, and didn’t know. Still, I can’t see that it hurts it, to have started with you. So did we all, if it comes to that.”
“Then you should give us the credit for having originated it,” Brock suggested.
St. Jacques rolled over on his other elbow.
“As it happens, Brock, you didn’t originate it. It came from the other side of the Channel.”
“Oh, rather! But it’s ours,” Barth interposed hastily.
St. Jacques rolled back again.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Barth; but it chances to be French,” he returned quietly. “Lulli wrote it for Louis Quatorze, and England borrowed it without returning thanks.” And then, still leaning on his elbow with his eyes fixed upon Barth, he sang to the end the good old song,—
“Grand Dieu! Sauvez le Roi!
Grand Dieu! Sauvez le Roi!
Sauvez le Roi!