" said
Borromee, retiring with Jacques.

"Go," said Gorenflot, majestically.

"Ah!" said Borromee, "I had forgotten; there is a friend in the parlor
who asks to see your reverence."

"What is his name?"

"M. Robert Briquet."

"Oh! he is not a friend; only an acquaintance."

"Then your reverence will not see him?"

"Oh, yes! let him come up; he amuses me."

CHAPTER XIX.

THE TWO FRIENDS.

When Chicot entered, the prior did not rise, but merely bent his head.

"Good-morning," said Chicot.

"Ah! there you are; you appear to have come to life again."

"Did you think me dead?"

"Diable! I never saw you."

"I was busy."

"Ah!"

Chicot knew that before being warmed by two or three bottles of old
Burgundy, Gorenflot was sparing of his words; and so, considering the
time of the morning, it was probable that he was still fasting, Chicot
sat down to wait.

"Will you breakfast with me, M. Briquet?" asked Gorenflot.

"Perhaps."

"You must not be angry with me, if it has become impossible for me to
give you as much time as I could wish."

"And who the devil asked you for your time? I did not even ask you for
breakfast; you offered it."

"Certainly I offered it; but--"

"But you thought I should not accept."

"Oh! no, is that my habit?"

"Ah! a superior man like you can adopt any habits, M. le Prior."

Gorenflot looked at Chicot; he could not tell whether he was laughing at
him or speaking seriously. Chicot rose.

"Why do you rise, M. Briquet?" asked Gorenflot.

"Because I am going away."

"And why are you going away, when you said you would breakfast with me?"

"I did not say I would; I said, perhaps."

"You are angry."

Chicot laughed. "I angry!" said he, "at what? Because you are impudent,
ignorant, and rude? Oh! my dear monsieur, I have known you too long to
be angry at these little imperfections."

Gorenflot remained stupefied.

"Adieu," said Chicot.

"Oh! do not go."

"My journey will not wait."

"You travel?"

"I have a mission."

"From whom?"

"From the king."

"A mission from the king! then you have seen him again?"

"Certainly."

"And how did he receive you?"

"With enthusiasm; he has a memory, king as he is."

"A mission from the king!" stammered Gorenflot.

"Adieu," repeated Chicot.

Gorenflot rose, and seized him by the hand. "Come! let us explain
ourselves," said he.

"On what?"

"On your susceptibility to-day."

"I! I am the same to-day as