"A very old family," said Mallet, "mentioned in the Bible."
This seemed to stagger our friend, who evidently prided himself on knowing every family worth knowing. The Marquis de Gallifet, seeing his chance, hurried to tell the story of the d'Albe family, which the crestfallen Baron drank in with open mouth and swallowed whole. As the Duke d'Albe was there himself, listening attentively and smiling, the story must have been true! The Marquis de Gallifet said, when Noah was ready to depart in the ark he saw a man swimming for dear life toward the boat, waving something in the air. Noah called out to him:
"Don't ask to be taken in. We can't carry any more passengers, we are already too full."
The man answered, "I don't want to be taken in; I don't care for myself; but, pray, save the papers of the family."
The Baron looked very grave, and turning to the Duke asked, in an extremely solemn tone, "Is this really true?"
"Perfectly," answered the Duke, without moving a muscle. "The saying, 'Après moi le déluge,' originated in our family; but we say, 'Nous d'abord, et puis le déluge!'"
"How interesting!" said the Baron.
Then Monsieur Dué, not wishing to be outdone, said his family was as old (if not older), having taken the name of Dué from the dove [in Swedish "dué" means dove] which carried the olive-branch to the ark. By this time the poor Baron, utterly staggered and bewildered in presence of such a concourse of ancient nobility, did not know on which leg to stand. How could he and his family ever hold up their heads again?
We returned to Compiègne by St. Périne, where there was a most enchanting view, and drove straight through a long avenue and entered La cour d'honneur. It was almost half-past five when we reached our rooms.
I thought I had had enough of fossils and ruins for one day, from breakfast onward, so when old General Changarnier came to offer me his arm for dinner I said to myself, "This is the climax!"