The royal children.
The children came in, the Duc de Bordeaux escorted by his governor, Mademoiselle by her governess. They ran up to kiss their grandfather and then rushed to me; we ensconced ourselves in the embrasure of a window overlooking the town and commanding a splendid view. I renewed my compliments on the riding-lesson. Mademoiselle hastened to tell me again what her brother had already told me, that I had seen nothing; that one could not form an opinion while the black horse was lame. Madame de Gontaut came to sit near us, M. de Damas a little further away, giving an ear, in an amusing state of anxiety, as though I were going to eat his pupil or drop a few words on the liberty of the press or the glory of Madame la Duchesse de Berry. I would have laughed at the fears with which I inspired him, if I had been able to laugh at a poor man after M. de Polignac. Suddenly Henry said to me:
"Have you ever seen a constrictor?"
"A boa-constrictor, Monseigneur means: there are none either in Egypt or at Tunis, the only places in Africa at which I have touched; but I have seen many snakes in America."
"Oh yes," said the Princesse Louise, "the rattle-snake, in the Génie du Christianisme."
I bowed to thank Mademoiselle.
"But you have seen plenty of other snakes?" asked Henry. "Are they very vicious?"
"Some of them, Monseigneur, are exceedingly dangerous; others have no venom and one makes them dance."
The two children came close up to me with delight, keeping their four beautiful eyes fixed on mine.
"And then there is the glass-snake," I said; "he is splendid to look at and does you no harm; he is as transparent and brittle as glass: you break him as soon as you touch him."