“Mais, mon Dieu, monsieur, vous croyez que je travaillerai pour le roi de Prusse, c’est-a-dire sans paiement.”
The king broke out into a hearty laugh, and Balby had to join him, but much against his will.
“Brother Henry,” said the king, laughing, “that is a curious way of speaking; ‘travailler pour le roi de Prusse,’ means here to work for nothing. I beg you to convince this good woman that she has not worked for the King of Prussia, and pay her well. Madame, I have the honor to bid you farewell, and be assured it will always cheer me to think of you, and to recall your charming speech.”
The king laughingly took his friend’s arm, and nodded kindly to Madame Niclas as he went down the steps.
“I tell you what,” said Madame Niclas, as she stood at the door with her husband, watching the departing strangers, who, in company with the guide and their servant, were walking down the street that led to the canal—“I tell you I do not trust those strangers, the little one in particular; he had a very suspicious look.”
“But his passport was all right.”
“But, nevertheless, all is not right with them. These strangers are disguised princes or robbers, I am fully convinced.”
CHAPTER XIII. THE DRAG-BOAT.
What a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting! How bright and happy these people are who have nothing and are nothing! How gayly they laugh and talk together—with what stoical equanimity they regard the slow motion of the boat! They accept it as an unalterable necessity. How kindly they assist each other; with what natural politeness the men leave the best seats for the women!