But a word which fell from Frison as he fluttered round me,
pouring out the broth and cutting the bread, dropped into my mind
and spoiled my satisfaction.
'Yes, your Excellency,' he said, confirming something he had
stated before and which I had missed, 'and I am told that the
last time he came into the gallery there was not a man of all the
scores who had been at his levee last Monday would speak to him.
They fell off like rats--just like rats--until he was left
standing alone. And I have seen him!'--Frison lifted up his eyes
and his hands and drew in his breath--'Ah! I have seen the King
look shabby beside him! And his eye! I would not like to meet
it now.'
'Pish!' I growled. 'Someone has fooled you. Men are wiser than
that.'
'So? Well, your Excellency understands,' he answered meekly.
'But--there are no cats on a cold hearth.'
I told him again that he was a fool. But for all that, and my
reasoning, I felt uncomfortable. This was a great man, if ever a
great man lived, and they were all leaving him; and I--well, I
had no cause to love him. But I had taken his money, I had
accepted his commission, and I had betrayed him.
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