“Forgive me; it is that Latin that bothers me--that terrible mine of etymologies. Why the deuce are young men of family taught Latin? _Mala_ and _mauvaise_--you understand it is the same thing. You will forgive me, I trust, M. de Malicorne.” “Your kindness affects me much, monsieur: but it is a reason why I should make you acquainted with one circumstance without any delay.” “What is it?” “That I was not born a gentleman. I am not without courage, and not altogether deficient in ability; but my name is Malicorne simply.” “You appear to me, monsieur!” exclaimed the count, looking at the astute face of his companion, “to be a most agreeable man. Your face pleases me, M. Malicorne, and you must possess some indisputably excellent qualities to have pleased that egotistical Manicamp. Be candid and tell me whether you are not some saint descended upon the earth.” “Why so?” “For the simple reason that he makes you a present of anything. Did you not say that he intended to make you a present of some appointment in the king’s household?” “I beg your pardon, count; but, if I succeed in obtaining the appointment, you, and not he, will have bestowed it on me.” “Besides he will not have given it to you for nothing, I suppose. Stay, I have it;--there is a Malicorne at Orleans who lends money to the prince.” “I think that must be my father, monsieur.” “Ah! the prince has the father, and that terrible dragon of a Manicamp has the son. Take care, monsieur, I know him. He will fleece you completely.” “The only difference is, that I lend without interest,” said Malicorne, smiling. “I was correct in saying you were either a saint or very much resembled one. M. Malicorne, you shall have the post you want, or I will forfeit my name.” “Ah! monsieur le comte, what a debt of gratitude shall I not owe you?” said Malicorne, transported. “Let us go to the prince, my dear M. Malicorne.” And De Guiche proceeded toward the door, desiring Malicorne to follow him. At the very moment they were about to cross the threshold, a young man appeared on the other side. He was from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, of pale complexion, bright eyes and brown hair and eyebrows. “Good-day,” said he, suddenly, almost pushing De Guiche back into the courtyard again. “Is that you, De Wardes?--What! and booted, spurred and whip in hand, too?” “The most befitting costume for a man about to set off for Le Havre. There will be no one left in Paris to-morrow.” And hereupon he saluted Malicorne with great ceremony, whose handsome dress gave him the appearance of a prince. “M. Malicorne,” said De Guiche to his friend. De Wardes bowed. “M. de Wardes,” said Guiche to Malicorne, who bowed in return. “By the by, De Wardes,” continued De Guiche, “you who are so well acquainted with these matters, can you tell us, probably, what appointments are still vacant at the court; or rather in the prince’s household?”