"I am afraid, sir," said Jean Charost, "that I owe your good opinion more to a prepossession in my favor than to any meritorious acts of my own; for, indeed, I have had no opportunity of serving you."
"Yes, you have, greatly," replied the duke; "not perhaps by acts, but by words, which prove often the greatest services. He who influences a man's mind, De Brecy, affects him more than he who influences his mere earthly fortunes. I have often thought," he continued, in a musing tone, "that we are never sufficiently grateful to those by whose writings, by whose example, by whose speech, our hearts, our feelings, or our reason have been formed and perfected. The mind has a fortune as well as the body, and the latter is inferior to the former. But set your mind at rest; they can not affect my opinion toward you. There is but one thing which has puzzled me a little; this child, which they tell me has been placed by you at one of the cottages hard by, I would fain know who are its parents."
"On that subject I can tell your highness nothing," replied Jean Charost; "but the whole history, as far as I can give it, I will give."
"Hush!" said the duke, looking toward the picture-gallery, the door from which was opened by the duchess at that moment.
"There is nothing, sir, that I am afraid or ashamed to tell before the duchess," replied Jean Charost. "The case may be strange; but, as far as it affects me, it is a very simple one."
"Well, then," said the duke, turning to the duchess, who was advancing slowly and somewhat timidly, "you shall speak on, and your narrative shall be our morning's amusement."
His whole air changed in a moment; and, with a gay and sparkling look, he said to the duchess, "Come hither, my sweet wife, and assist at the trial of this young offender. He is charged before me of preaching rather than practicing, of frowning, like a Franciscan, on all the lighter offenses of love; and yet, what think you, I am told he has a fair young lady, who has followed him hither, and is boarded by him in one of the cottages just below the castle, when I do believe that, were I but to give a glance at any pretty maiden, I should have as sour a look as antique abbess ever gave to wavering nun."
The duchess looked in Jean Charost's face for an instant, and then said, "I'll be his surety, sir, that the tale is false."
"Not so, indeed, your highness," replied Jean Charost. "The tale is mostly true; but the duke should have added that this fair maid can not be three months old."
"Worse and worse!" cried the duke; "you can not escape penance for one sin, my friend, by pleading a still greater one. But tell us how all this happened; let us hear your defense."