At the first sight of me his jaw fell agape. The bread which he had just stuffed into his mouth fell in crumbs over his knees. His eyes glared at me as though they would start from their sockets. I thought a kind of fright had overtaken him, but in the next second he jumped to his feet with the lightness of a hare and laid his hand over his heart in a way that reminded me strongly of De Marsac. Then he swept the ground with his soiled cap and bowed.
“My Lord,” he said with the utmost seriousness, “I am alone. I lack company. Will you be gracious enough to dine with me?”
At that he straightened up and smiled.
“I am no lord,” I answered with a twinkle in my eye. “Nor am I hungry. I have a long ride ahead of me and must be on my way.”
With that I made to be off. But the scrivener seemed to have no hearing. He clapped his cap upon his head and with a skip was out in the middle of the road.
“If you are not a noble,” he said with his grin spreading from ear to ear, “you ought to be. But I am sure of one thing——” He let the last words trail in the air as though he would puzzle me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Your horse is!” he cried. And then he bent over and laughed as though he had made the smartest remark in the world.
I was feeling uneasy. The thought came to me that I was wasting my time with a madman and the sooner I could get off from him the better.
“Well,” I replied dryly, “maybe he is. But don’t let me interrupt your meal.”