"Monsieur will pardon me, I am sure, if I adhere—merely for the sake of habit—to the incognito I am preserving in this neighborhood at present. I do not wish my name to get abroad as the new purchaser of this estate."
"My obligations are no less for my not knowing to whom they are due, monsieur," said Dick, taking the seat to which his host motioned him, at the table. He would eat nothing, but he would drink some wine, and he joined in a toast of Burgundy, proposed by the Abbé, with a twinkling eye, to "Madame la Comtesse that is to be."
From the fact that in the ensuing conversation the Abbé addressed the master of the house as Monsieur le Comte, Dick soon understood the toast, the Abbé's look of sly merriment, and the half pleased, half chiding expression of the Count himself. The bottle went round often, and the talk became unconstrained. Dick made it known that he was an American, whereupon he was plied with many questions concerning the war, and particularly concerning the personality of Washington. The Count then said he had seen that great philosopher, Franklin, in Paris, honored by beautiful women and celebrated men, among whom he appeared in his plain coat, as if the simplicity of the ancient sages had been in him revived.
"It is in the hope of meeting him," said Dick, "that I am now on the way to Paris."
"Then you have a pleasure very near at hand," said the Count.
"I trust it is near at hand," said Dick. "It may be delayed by another matter that must intervene,—also a pleasure."
"You speak and look as if it were a matter of some doubt or difficulty," said the Count. "If I can be of assistance—"
"I thank you, monsieur, but it is a matter in which the aid of Monsieur l'Abbé would be more to the point."
"Command me, monsieur," put in the Abbé. "My aid is for whoever asks it."
"I begin to understand," said the Count, with a kindly smile. "The lady in the carriage—"