“Ha, ha!” cried Reynard, laughing outside; “amuse yourself with my poor little sister, while I go and make your compliments to Mademoiselle the Cat.”
With that Reynard set off at an easy pace, never troubling his head what became of the poor dog. When he arrived in the neighbourhood of the beautiful cat’s mansion, he resolved to pay a visit to a friend of his, an old magpie that lived in a tree and was well acquainted with all the news of the place. “For,” thought Reynard, “I may as well know the blind side of my mistress that is to be, and get round it at once.”
The magpie received the fox with great cordiality, and inquired what brought him so great a distance from home.
“Upon my word,” said the fox, “nothing so much as the pleasure of seeing your ladyship and hearing those agreeable anecdotes you tell with so charming a grace; but to let you into a secret—be sure it don’t go further—”
“On the word of a magpie,” interrupted the bird.
“Pardon me for doubting you,” continued the fox; “I should have recollected that a pie was a proverb for discretion. But, as I was saying, you know her Majesty the lioness?”
“Surely,” said the magpie, bridling.
“Well; she was pleased to fall in—that is to say—to—to—take a caprice to your humble servant, and the lion grew so jealous that I thought it prudent to decamp. A jealous lion is no joke, let me assure your ladyship. But mum’s the word.”
So great a piece of news delighted the magpie. She could not but repay it in kind, by all the news in her budget. She told the fox all the scandal about Bruin and Gauntgrim, and she then fell to work on the poor young cat. She did not spare her foibles, you may be quite sure. The fox listened with great attention, and he learned enough to convince him that however much the magpie might exaggerate, the cat was very susceptible to flattery, and had a great deal of imagination.
When the magpie had finished she said, “But it must be very unfortunate for you to be banished from so magnificent a court as that of the lion?”