"Sire," said he, "may I beg for an audience?"
"Certainly, my friend," replied Joseph. "I am just about to ride, and you can accompany me. We can converse together in some of the shady alleys of the park. I will order a horse for you at once."
"Pardon me, sire, our interview must be here. I saw your majesty's horse in readiness for your ride, but that did not prevent me from coming, for the matter which brought me hither is one of supreme importance."
"And you cannot put it off until we take our ride?"
"Sire, my first request is that your majesty will relinquish the ride altogether. You must not be seen in the streets to-day."
"Bless me, Lacy! you speak as if I were Louis of France, who is afraid to show himself in public, because of the murmurs of his discontented subjects."
"Sire, assume that you are Louis, then, and give up the ride. Do it, if you love me, my sovereign."
"If I love you!" repeated Joseph, with surprise. "Well, then, it shall be done." And he rang, and ordered his horse to be put up. "Now speak. What can have happened here, that I should be threatened with a discontented mob?"
"Sire," began Lacy, "you remember the day on which we swore to speak the truth to your majesty, even if it should become importunate, do you not?"
"Yes, I do, Lacy; but neither of you have kept the promise up to this time."