"They were given him by the Duchess of Orleans."
"But she—"
"She received them from her step-daughter, the Duchess of Savoy. Not only them, but your imbecile-written promise to Strozzi that his wife would return to him as soon as Prince Eugene was dead."
"It was a blunder, I admit," returned Barbesieur. "But the idiot had so set his heart upon it that I was forced to yield to his whims; there was no other way of controlling him. I had no sooner given him this paper, than he became as plastic as clay."
"Nevertheless, Laura is dead, and Eugene of Savoy lives."
"Oh, yes—the thing miscarried, but how, I cannot conceive. I was close at hand, waiting with horses for Strozzi, who was to seize Laura, and make all speed for Italy. I waited so long, that at last I ventured to creep up to the house, and there I learned how Strozzi had stabbed Laura, and Eugene had shot Strozzi. As soon as I found out that all had gone awry, I galloped off to Bonaletta, to get my share of Strozzi's and Laura's property. But the covetous relations would not let me lay a finger on Laura's estates, without your written authorization. That brought me hurriedly to Paris. I want it at once, that I may return to Bonaletta to-day."
"You must remain for a while longer," said Louvois.
"And why, pray?"
"Because you must at least wait until my funeral is over," replied the unhappy father.
Barbesieur began to laugh. "Oh, papa! pray don't get sentimental. People are not apt to die of these little vexations. I suppose the king was rude, as he has been many a day before this—was he?"