"None," replied the priest, "that I cannot bear as tranquilly and well as you, my noble lord, could bear the sorrow of your best friend. My trade, however, is not bloodshed; I love not hard blows, and shall always keep out of their way as far as I can. So my confession is made; but here comes one who has a greater liking for wounds and bruises than I have; and now Heaven send us all as good food as I have a good stomach. Mine host! mine host! that omelet will be overdone, and the sin of burned eggs is one to which I refuse absolution. By Hercules! as the Romans used to say--Body of Bacchus! as the Italians say--Dame! as we say in France, did ever mortal man see such a basket of fine trouts? Why, it is a gift for an abbot! Look! my noble baron, look!" he continued, turning to Bernhard de Rohan, who now made his appearance; "did you ever see such fair river-gods in your life? Put them upon the ashes, host, put them upon the ashes!" Bernard de Rohan did not pay so much attention to the fishes as the priest, by his commendation, seemed to think they deserved; but, turning to his friend, he shook him by the hand, saying, "Well, Meyrand, you certainly always were a very unaccountable sort of personage, or I should be inclined seriously to quarrel with you for suffering me to go last night without assistance, at the imminent risk of getting my throat cut for want of your help." "If you risked getting your throat cut, De Rohan," replied his companion, "that was your fault; I had nothing to do with that; I even deviated so far from my usual habits as to ask you to stay, and not do it. I have always a reason for everything I do, good Sir Bernard, and I take it for granted that other people have a reason too. I supposed that you had some motive for going and getting your throat cut, and therefore did not in the least blame you for doing so, if you chose; but I had no reason for anything of the kind, and therefore I stayed where I was. Indeed, I had every reason in the world not to go: I was warm and comfortable, and had good wine and good viands before me; I was tired with a long day's hunting, and had got my boots off. Then what to me was the Lord of Masseran, that I should try to save his life or liberty? I had no motive for serving him: indeed, quite the contrary. Every one knows him to be an egregious scoundrel, and at this moment he owes me thirty thousand crowns, which he will never pay, and which I have no chance of getting, unless some honest brigand should cut his throat, when the King of France would doubtless take possession of his lands and pay his creditors." "Good faith, you are better acquainted with him than I am," replied Bernard de Rohan. "Pray let me know something of his history; for I never heard anything of him till some six months ago, when letters from France informed me that the widowed Countess of Brienne, the mother of my friend and comrade, Henry of Brienne, was about to be married to a Marquis of Masseran."