The consequence was that they all liked Daddy La Bretagne, so that he gloried in it, and said proudly:
"What a pity that we are living under the Republic! These fellows would think nothing of making me king."
And one day, when he said this, his trollop replied: "The king is here, old fellow!" And at the same time she presented a new comrade to them, who was no less ragged or wretched looking than the eighteen, but quite young by the size of him. He was a tall, thin fellow of about forty, and without a white streak in his long hair. He was dressed only in a pair of trousers and a shirt, which he wore outside them, like a blouse, and the trollop said:
"Here, Daddy La Bretagne, you have two knitted vests on, so just give him one."
"Why should I?" the hauler asked.
"Because I choose you to," the woman replied. "I have been living with you set of old men for a long time, so now I want to have a young one; there he is, so you must give him a vest, and keep him here, or I shall throw you up. You may take it or leave it, as you like. Do you understand me?"
The eighteen looked at each other open-mouthed, and good Daddy La Bretagne scratched his head, and then said:
"What she asks is quite right, and we must give way," he replied.
Then they explained themselves, and came to an understanding. The poor devil did not come like a conqueror, for he was a wretched clown who had just been released from prison, where he had undergone three years' hard labor for an attempted outrage on a girl, but, with one exception, the best fellow in the world, so the people declared.
"And something nice for me," the trollop added, "for I can assure you that I mean him to reward me for anything I may do for him."