"Have you never been to Pinsaquel? You ought to go; it's the anglers' paradise."
"Certainly, I will go there one day. But, meanwhile, I shall be returning with an empty basket."
"Never, not if I know it! Take my place, Sir, Your Majesty, each time I say 'Hop'! pull up your line, and tell me what you think of it!"
The King, mightily amused by the adventure, followed his instructions. In three minutes Sabadon's tremendous voice gave the signal:
"Hop!"
It was a trout. And the fishing went on, in an almost miraculous manner.
As they walked back to the town together, an hour later, Sabadon took the opportunity to expound to the King the cause of his grudge against Meyerbeer, the composer:
"You must understand, Sir, Your Majesty, that, at the theatre, at Toulouse, it was I who used to play the night watchman in the Huguenots. I had to cross the stage with a lantern; and, as I am very popular at Toulouse, I used to receive a wonderful ovation: "Bravo, Sabadon! Hurrah for Sabadon!" Just as when you came to Aix, Sir, Your Majesty.... Well, in spite of that the manager absolutely refused to let me take a call, because the music didn't lend itself to it! I ask you, Sir, Your Majesty, if that lout of a Meyerbeer couldn't have let me cross the stage a second time!"
3.
King George, who, like most reigning sovereigns, is an indefatigable walker, used to start out every day in the late afternoon and come back just before dinner-time. He nearly always took a member of his suite with him; one of my inspectors would follow him. All the peasants round Aix knew the King by sight and raised their caps as he passed. He is very young in mind—in this respect, he has remained the midshipman of his boyhood—and he sometimes amused himself by playing a trick on the companion of his walk. For instance, as soon as he saw that his equerry, after covering a reasonable number of miles, was beginning, if I may so express myself, to hang out signals of distress, the King suggested that they should turn into a roadside public-house for a drink.