For ten or fifteen minutes he ate on like a man whom long starvation had rendered half savage; then ceasing suddenly, he looked up, and said, “Lieutenant, the cuisine here might tempt a more fastidious man than I am; and if these people are not hospitable enough to invite you to their soiries, they certainly do not starve you at home.” “How knew you that I was not asked to the château?” said I, reddening with a sense of offended pride I could not conceal. “Know it? Why, man, these things are known at once. People talk of them in saloons and morning visits, and comment on them in promenades; and though I seem not to have been keeping company with the beau monde latterly, I hear what goes on there too. But trust me, boy, if your favor stands not high with the Court of to-day, you may perhaps be preparing the road to fortune with that of to-morrow.” “Though you speak in riddle, De Beauvais, so long as I suspect that what you mean would offer insult to those I serve, let me say,--and I say it in all temper, but in all firmness,--you 'll find no ready listener in me. The highest favor I aspire to is the praise of our great chief, General Bonaparte; and here I pledge his health.” “I'll drink no more wine to-night,” said he, sulkily pushing his glass before him. “Is this to be my bed?” “Of course not; mine is ready for you. I 'll rest on the sofa there, for I shall have to visit my pickets by daybreak.” “In Heaven's name, for what?” said he, with a half sneer. “What can that poor Savary be dreaming of? Is there any one about to steal the staircase of the Louvre, or the clock from the pavilion of the Tuileries? Or is it the savants of the Institute he 's afraid of losing?” “Rail on, my good friend; you 'll find it very hard to make an old scholar of the Polytechnique think poorly of the man that gains battles.” “Well, well, I give up my faith in physiognomy. Do you remember that same evening in the Tuileries when I asked your pardon, and begged to be your friend? I thought you a different fellow then from what I see you now; that silly hussar pelisse has turned many a head before yours.” “You wish to make me angry, De Beauvais, and you 'll not succeed. A night's rest will bring you to better temper with all the world.” “Will it, faith! In that case a tolerably large portion of it must take leave of it before morning; for I promise you, my worthy hussar, there are some I don't expect to feel so very charitably towards as you expect.” “Well, well! What say you to bed?” “I 'll sleep where I am,” said he, with some harshness in his tone. “Good-night.” The words were scarcely uttered when he turned on his side, and, shading his eyes from the light with his hand, fell fast asleep.