“Diable!” exclaimed a lieutenant; “he was a good citizen of Paris. Was he in the Garde Nationale, Madame?”
“I am not sure,” said the old lady, with a most provoking coolness.
“And where was he going, may I ask?” cried another.
“To Versailles, Monsieur,—poor fellow, he wept very bitterly.”
“Detestable beast!” exclaimed the old gentleman; “they make a horrid mockery of humanity.”
“Ah! very true, Monsieur; there is a strong resemblance between the two species.” There was an unlucky applicability in this speech to the hook-nose, yellow-skinned, wrinkled little fellow it was addressed to, that once more brought a smile upon the party.
“Was there no one with him, then? Who took care of him, Madame?”
“He was alone, Monsieur. The poor fellow was a ‘garçon;’ he told me so himself.”
“Told you so!—the ape told you!—the baboon said that!” exclaimed each in turn of the party, while an outburst of laughter filled the carriage.
“‘T is quite true,—just as I have the honor to tell you,” said the old lady, with the utmost gravity; “and although I was as much surprised as you now are, when he first addressed me, he was so well-mannered, spoke such good French, and had so much agreeability that I forgot my fears, and enjoyed his society very much.”