"Highness!" said my companion, colouring, and darting a glance, first at his friend and then at me. "Hist, Sir, you know me, then,—speak low,—you know, then, for whom you have drawn your sword?"
"Yes, so please your Highness. I have drawn it this night for Philip of Orleans; I trust yet, in another scene and for another cause, to draw it for the Regent of France!"
CHAPTER IX.
A PRINCE, AN AUDIENCE, AND A SECRET EMBASSY.
THE Regent remained silent for a moment: he then said in an altered and grave voice, "/C'est bien, Monsieur/! I thank you for the distinction you have made. It were not amiss" (he added, turning to his comrade) "that /you/ would now and then deign, henceforward, to make the same distinction. But this is neither time, nor place for parlance. On, gentlemen!" We left the house, passed into the street, and moved on rapidly, and in silence, till the constitutional gayety of the Duke recovering its ordinary tone, he said with a laugh,—
"Well, now, it is a little hard that a man who has been toiling all day for the public good should feel ashamed of indulging for an hour or two at night in his private amusements; but so it is. 'Once grave, always grave!' is the maxim of the world; eh, Chatran?"
The companion bowed. "'Tis a very good saying, please your Royal Highness, and is intended to warn us from the sin of /ever/ being grave!"
"Ha! ha! you have a great turn for morality, my good Chatran!" cried the
Duke, "and would draw a rule for conduct out of the wickedest /bon mot/
of Dubois. Monsieur, pardon me, but I have seen you before: you are the
Count—"
"Devereux, Monseigneur."
"True, true! I have heard much of you: you are intimate with Milord
Bolingbroke. Would that I had fifty friends like /him/."