The chevalier was himself again: his doubts had fled, and he was laughing at himself for his momentary illusion.
"Madame has explained the sweet hallucination," he said, hand on heart. "We have not met except in dreams. Ah! that we had been friends in those days of glory when I was the favorite of the Hungarian court, the Count of Calembours, owner of diamond mines! Mon Dieu! my homage was worthy of its object then!"
Monsieur launched into his loftiest braggadocio, and madame listened well, and drew him out with skill.
"So monsieur was born in Hungary?"
"In Hungary, madame."
"Have you seen the pretty river Theiss?"
"Hem! Yes, madame. I lived in Irzegedin."
"Ah!"—with a mocking smile—"the residences of the counts are particularly magnificent in that city, are they not?"
"Madame is right. Madame must have been there."
"Oh, no, my dear chevalier, else I should have heard of Count Calembours, without doubt. And Chevalier de Calembours left his princely fortune behind when he came here to fight?"