The game began. M. de Beaufort was in play, and sent the balls wherever he liked; La Ramée could not win a game. When they had finished
playing, the duke, whilst rallying La Ramée on his ill success, pulled out a couple of louis-d'ors, and offered them to his guards, who had followed him to the court to pick up the balls, telling them to go and drink his health. The guards asked La Ramée's permission, which he gave, but for the evening only. Up to that time he had various important matters to arrange, some of which would require him to absent himself from his prisoner, whom he did not wish to be lost sight of.
Six o'clock came, and although the dinner-hour was fixed for seven, the table was already spread, and the enormous pie placed upon the side-board. Every body was impatient for something: the guards to go and drink, La Ramée to dine, and Monsieur de Beaufort to escape. Grimaud was the only one who seemed to be waiting for nothing, and to remain perfectly calm; and at times when the duke looked at his dull, immoveable countenance, he almost doubted whether that could be the man who was to aid his projected flight.
At half-past six La Ramée dismissed the guards, the duke sat down at the table, and signed to his jailer to take a chair opposite to him. Grimaud served the soup, and stationed himself behind La Ramée. The most perfect enjoyment was depicted on the countenance of the latter, as he commenced the repast from which he had been anticipating so much pleasure. The duke looked at him with a smile.
"Ventre St Gris! La Ramée," cried he, "if I were told that at this moment there is in all France a happier man than yourself, I would not believe it."
"And you would be quite right not to do so, Monseigneur," said La Ramée. "I confess that, when I am hungry, I know no pleasure equal to that of sitting down to a good dinner; and when I remember that my Amphitryon is the grandson of Henry the Fourth, the pleasure is at least doubled by the honour done to me."
The duke bowed. "My dear La Ramée," said he, "you are unequaled in the art of paying compliments."
"It is no compliment, Monseigneur," said La Ramée; "I say exactly what I think."
"You are really attached to me then?" said the duke.
"Most sincerely," replied La Ramée; "and I should be inconsolable if your highness were to leave Vincennes."