“Hush!” said La Ramee; and one by one he sent away the guards, on various pretexts. “Well?” asked the duke when they were alone. “Well!” replied La Ramee, “your supper is ordered.” “Ah! and what is it to be? Monsieur, my majordomo, will there be a pie?” “I should think so, indeed—almost as high as a tower.” “You told him it was for me?” “Yes, and he said he would do his best to please your highness.” “Good!” exclaimed the duke, rubbing his hands. “Devil take it, my lord! what a gourmand you are growing; I haven’t seen you with so cheerful a face these five years.” The duke saw that he had not controlled himself as he ought, but at that moment, as if he had listened at the door and comprehended the urgent need of diverting La Ramee’s ideas, Grimaud entered and made a sign to La Ramee that he had something to say to him. La Ramee drew near to Grimaud, who spoke to him in a low voice. The duke meanwhile recovered his self-control. “I have already forbidden that man,” he said, “to come in here without my permission.” “You must pardon him, my lord,” said La Ramee, “for I directed him to come.” “And why did you so direct when you know that he displeases me?” “My lord will remember that it was agreed between us that he should wait upon us at that famous supper. My lord has forgotten the supper.” “No, but I have forgotten Monsieur Grimaud.” “My lord understands that there can be no supper unless he is allowed to be present.” “Go on, then; have it your own way.” “Come here, my lad,” said La Ramee, “and hear what I have to say.” Grimaud approached, with a very sullen expression on his face. La Ramee continued: “My lord has done me the honor to invite me to a supper to-morrow _en tête-à-tête_.” Grimaud made a sign which meant that he didn’t see what that had to do with him. “Yes, yes,” said La Ramee, “the matter concerns you, for you will have the honor to serve us; and besides, however good an appetite we may have and however great our thirst, there will be something left on the plates and in the bottles, and that something will be yours.” Grimaud bowed in thanks. “And now,” said La Ramee, “I must ask your highness’s pardon, but it seems that Monsieur de Chavigny is to be away for a few days and he has sent me word that he has certain directions to give me before his departure.” The duke tried to exchange a glance with Grimaud, but there was no glance in Grimaud’s eyes. “Go, then,” said the duke, “and return as soon as possible.” “Does your highness wish to take revenge for the game of tennis yesterday?” Grimaud intimated by a scarcely perceptible nod that he should consent. “Yes,” said the duke, “but take care, my dear La Ramee, for I propose to beat you badly.” La Ramee went out. Grimaud looked after him, and when the door was closed he drew out of his pocket a pencil and a sheet of paper. “Write, my lord,” he said. “And what?” Grimaud dictated.