"Perhaps. I was saying, then, when you interrupted me," resumed he, imperturbably, "that you please me. Called by the confidence of the enlightened men who play the foremost parts in the glorious revolution of this noble country to occupy a high place in their counsels, I want near me an honest intelligent man, in whom I can trust, who understands Spanish—which I do not—and which I am told to learn; in a word, who will be devoted to me, and who will be rather a friend than a secretary. This man, after mature reflection, I have chosen—it is you."
"I?"
"Yes, my friend."
"Thank you for the preference."
"Then you accept."
"I! I refuse—I refuse with all my might."
"Come, you are not serious."
"My dear Monsieur Dubois, I do not joke about such things—they are too serious."
"Bah! Bah! You will reflect."
"My reflections are made, my resolution immovable; I repeat that I refuse. Why, there seems to be an epidemic! Everybody is obstinately trying to make me against my will a man of politics; it's enough, upon my honour, to drive me mad."