A drum was heard; then a blue flag was seen, and sixty men, fully armed, to the King’s Cabinet. I recognized M. Pericles, because I had admired him on the promenade at Athens. He was a young officer of thirty-five, dark, a coxcomb, admired by the ladies, the best waltzer at Court, and wearing his epaulets with grace. He put up his sword, ran to the King of the Mountains, who kissed him on the mouth, saying, “Good morning, godfather!”
“Good morning, little one,” the King replied, caressing his cheek a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy guts with his hand. “Thou art well?”
“Yes. And thou?”
“As thou seest. And thy family?”
“My uncle, the Bishop, has a fever.”
“Bring him here, I will cure him. The Prefect of Police is better?”
“A little; he sends his kind regards; the Minister also.”
“What is new?”
“A ball at the Palace on the 15th. It is decided; the ‘Siècle’ publishes it!”
“Thou dancest, then, all the time? And what about the Bourse?”
“There is a general fall in stocks.”
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