“Sir,” says he, laying aside his work and looking upon me eagerly, “you have visited St Thomas? You are acquainted with the French inhabitants there, with my lord Marquis of Tourvel, with mademoiselle his daughter, perhaps?” regarding me all the while with such an air as made me think of some poor wretch that hath been slowly starved, and sees food brought suddenly within his reach. But I was minded to try him further, and so said, as if angry-- “I have the honour of that lady’s acquaintance, sir. May I ask by what right you inquire concerning her?” “By what right?” cries he, prodigious angry, and I had almost looked for him to strike me. “By the highest right of all, sir. Mademoiselle de Tourvel is my betrothed wife.” “Sir,” said I, “I ask your pardon. I conceive then that you are my lord Viscount de Galampré, of whom I heard while at St Thomas.” “The same, sir, at your service,” saith he, but quickly, as though it mattered not. “Tell me concerning ’em, I entreat you. For four years I han’t received any news of ’em. Are they still at St Thomas, or no?” I perceived then that he had never so much as heard of the fall of that place, and took pains immediately to tell him all that I knew touching the fortunes of its garrison (though without mentioning, as you may well guess, my pretending to my lady’s hand), and answered all his questions in the best way I might, and so until dinner-time, when he rose up suddenly and would have departed, saying that he had detained me too long, but that I entreated of him to remain and dine with me, my companions being all gone to see the emperor’s fine gardens. And this he accepted of with pleasure, and indeed I never saw a man so grateful, nor so eager to hear all that I could tell him. And so at last he departed, loading me with his thanks until I was ashamed, and desiring to be my friend all my life. CHAPTER XIV. OF MY LEAVING THE CITY OF THE GREAT MOGUL IN THE COMPANY OF ONE THAT HAD NOT ENTERED THEREIN WITH ME.