“And he richly deserves it,” said the king, as he greeted the stranger politely. “Truly, monsieur, I am very much indebted to you, and this piece of pie that I have the honor to offer you is but a poor reward for your services. I believe I never saw larger fists than that terrible peasant’s; a closer acquaintance with them would have been very disagreeable. I thank you for preventing it.”
“Travellers make a variety of acquaintances,” said the stranger, laughing, and seating himself on the bench by the king’s side, with a familiarity that terrified Balby. “I count you, sir, among the agreeable ones, and I thank you for this privilege.”
“I hope you will make the acquaintance of this pie, and find it agreeable,” said the king. “Eat, monsieur, and let us chat in the mean while—Henry, why are you standing there so grave and respectful, not daring to be seated? I do not believe this gentleman to be a prince travelling incognito.”
“No, sir, take your place,” exclaimed the stranger, laughing, “you will not offend etiquette. I give you my word that I am no concealed prince, and no worshipper of princes. I am proud to declare this.”
“Ah! you are proud not to be a prince?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“It appears to me,” said Balby, looking at the king, “that a prince has a great and enviable position.”
“But a position, unfortunately, that but few princes know how to fill worthily,” said the king, smiling. “Every man who is sufficient for himself is to be envied.”
“You speak my thoughts exactly, sir,” said the stranger, who had commenced eating his piece of pie with great zeal. “Only the free are happy.”
“Are you happy?” asked the king.