This dumb grief, so true and so touching, affected the Count more than he would have supposed; he rose, took the poor fellow's hand and shook it several times.
"Let us say no more about this, Bouillot," he remarked to him affectionately, "although I will not profit by it, your devotion has deeply affected me, and I will ever feel eternally grateful to you for it. Come, my old friend, let us not grow foolish; we are men and not childish poltroons, confound it."
"Well, no matter, my lord, I do not consider myself beaten," the exempt replied, as he threw himself into the arms open to receive him; "you cannot prevent me from watching over you, whether near or afar."
"That I do not oppose, my friend," the Count replied with a laugh; "do as you please; besides," he added seriously, "I confess that I shall not be sorry when I am sequestered from the world to know what is going on, and to be kept informed, of passing events; some unforeseen fact might occur which would modify my intentions and make me desire the recovery of my liberty."
"Oh, be sure of that, my lord," he exclaimed, pleased at this quasi victory and conditional promise, "I will arrange so that you shall not be at a loss for news; I have not served his Eminence for six years for nothing; the Cardinal is a good master, I have profited by his teaching, and know several tricks; you shall see me at work."
"Well, that is agreed, and we understand each other now. I think it would be wise to breakfast before continuing our journey, for I feel an appetite that greatly requires appeasing."
"I will give the landlord orders to serve you at once, my lord."
"You will breakfast with me, Bouillot," he said as he gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder; "and I hope it will be always so, until our arrival at the Isle of St. Marguerite."
"It is certainly a great honour for me, sir, but—"
"I expect it; besides are you not almost a member of my family?"