The Chaplain, who spoke to me without ceasing, and who was deafened by the carriage, made no answer.
“Well, well! how the van rattles; one can hardly hear oneself. What was I saying to you, Chaplain! Oh, aye!—do you know the great news of Paris to-day?”
I started as if he were speaking to me.
“No,” said the priest, who had at last heard him, “I have not had time to read the papers this morning: I shall see them this evening. When I am occupied in this way all day, I order my servant to keep the papers, and I read them on my return.”
“Bah!” replied the other, “it is impossible that you have not heard what I mean. The news of Paris—the news of this morning.”
It was now my turn to speak; and I said, “I know what you mean.”
The Messenger looked at me. “You? really! and pray what is your opinion about it?”
“You are inquisitive,” said I.
“How so, sir?” replied he. “Every one should have a political opinion: I esteem you too much to suppose that you are without one. As to myself, I am quite in favour of re-establishing the National Guard. I was a serjeant in my company; and, faith! it was very agreeable to—”
I interrupted him by saying, “I did not think this was the subject in question.”