"In all my life I have never eaten anything more tender, more delicate or more savory than this," replied the chevalier, with full mouth, and half shutting his eyes in sensual enjoyment.
"Is it not good?" said the good priest, who, knife and fork in hand, looked at his guest with satisfied pride.
The repast ended, Monsieur placed a pot of tobacco and pipes at the side of the bottle of canary, and Father Griffen and Croustillac were then left alone.
After filling a glass of wine and passing it to the chevalier, the priest said to him, "Your health, my son."
"Thanks, father," said the chevalier, lifting his glass. "Drink also to the health of my future bride; it will be a good omen for me."
"How? your future bride?" replied the priest; "what do you mean?"
"I allude to Blue Beard, father."
"Ah—always jesting! Frankly, I believe the men of your province are most inventive, my son," said Father Griffen, smiling mischievously, and emptying his glass in small doses.
"I never spoke more seriously, father. You heard the vow which I made on board the Unicorn?"
"Impossibility nullifies a vow, my son; because you should swear to measure the ocean, would you engage to fulfill this oath?"