"Old? we call him the 'Wandering Jew,' except, indeed, that he has not always the five _sous_ in his pocket. Yet, Monsieur, his courage does not fail him. He has taken a young and handsome wife." "And, she?" I urged-- "Is the Countess de St. Alyre." "Yes; but I fancy we may say something more? She has attributes?" "Three, Monsieur, three, at least most amiable." "Ah! And what are they?" "Youth, beauty, and--diamonds." I laughed. The sly old gentleman was foiling my curiosity. "I see, my friend," said I, "you are reluctant--" "To quarrel with the Count," he concluded. "True. You see, Monsieur, he could vex me in two or three ways; so could I him. But, on the whole, it is better each to mind his business, and to maintain peaceful relations; you understand." It was, therefore, no use trying, at least for the present. Perhaps he had nothing to relate. Should I think differently, by-and-by, I could try the effect of a few Napoleons. Possibly he meant to extract them. The host of the Dragon Volant was an elderly man, thin, bronzed, intelligent, and with an air of decision, perfectly military. I learned afterwards that he had served under Napoleon in his early Italian campaigns. "One question, I think you may answer," I said, "without risking a quarrel. Is the Count at home?" "He has many homes, I conjecture," said the host evasively. "But--but I think I may say, Monsieur, that he is, I believe, at present staying at the Château de la Carque." I looked out of the window, more interested than ever, across the undulating grounds to the château, with its gloomy background of foliage. "I saw him to-day, in his carriage at Versailles," I said. "Very natural." "Then his carriage and horses and servants are at the château?" "The carriage he puts up here, Monsieur, and the servants are hired for the occasion. There is but one who sleeps at the château. Such a life must be terrifying for Madame the Countess," he replied. "The old screw!" I thought. "By this torture, he hopes to extract her diamonds. What a life! What fiends to contend with--jealousy and extortion!" The knight having made this speech to himself, cast his eyes once more upon the enchanter's castle, and heaved a gentle sigh--a sigh of longing, of resolution, and of love. What a fool I was! and yet, in the sight of angels, are we any wiser as we grow older? It seems to me, only, that our illusions change as we go on; but, still, we are madmen all the same. "Well, St. Clair," said I, as my servant entered, and began to arrange my things. "You have got a bed?" "In the cock-loft, Monsieur, among the spiders, and, _par ma foi_! the cats and the owls. But we agree very well. _Vive la bagatelle_!" "I had no idea it was so full." "Chiefly the servants, Monsieur, of those persons who were fortunate enough to get apartments at Versailles." "And what do you think of the Dragon Volant?"