was concerned. Nobody believed his narrative, but all
believed that he believed it.

He made his enlargements without flourish, without emphasis, and so
casually that often one failed to notice that a change had been made.
He spoke of the governor of Vaucouleurs, the first night, simply as the
governor of Vaucouleurs; he spoke of him the second night as his uncle
the governor of Vaucouleurs; the third night he was his father. He did
not seem to know that he was making these extraordinary changes; they
dropped from his lips in a quite natural and effortless way. By his
first night's account the governor merely attached him to the Maid's
military escort in a general and unofficial way; the second night his
uncle the governor sent him with the Maid as lieutenant of her rear
guard; the third night his father the governor put the whole command,
Maid and all, in his special charge. The first night the governor spoke
of him as a youth without name or ancestry, but "destined to achieve
both"; the second night his uncle the governor spoke of him as the
latest and worthiest lineal descendent of the chiefest and noblest of
the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne; the third night he spoke of him as
the lineal descendent of the whole dozen. In three nights he promoted
the Count of Vendome from a fresh acquaintance to a schoolmate, and then
brother-in-law.

At the King's Audience everything grew, in the same way. First the four
silver trumpets were twelve, then thirty-five, finally ninety-six; and
by that time he had thrown in so many drums and cymbals that he had to
lengthen the hall from five hundred feet to nine hundred to accommodate
them. Under his hand the people present multiplied in the same large
way.

The first two nights he contented himself with merely describing and
exaggerating the chief dramatic incident of the Audience, but the third
night he added illustration to description. He throned the barber in his
own high chair to represent the sham King; then he told how the Court
watched the Maid with intense interest and suppressed merriment,
expecting to see her fooled by the deception and get herself swept
permanently out of credit by the storm of scornful laughter which would
follow. He worked this scene up till he got his house in a burning fever
of excitement and anticipation, then came his climax. Turning to the
barber, he said:

"But mark you what she did. She gazed steadfastly upon that sham's
villain face as I now