and M. Lucas
began in resolute tones to announce his plan of campaign. He had the
curt precision which all great captains possess.

"Since the war broke out, His Majesty has expressed a wish to be
rationed like his people. Therefore the menu is to be very simple:
_truite a la Bellevue, tournedos aux pommes_, some fruit.--Of course
there will have to be an entree and some dessert for the Staff. The
drink will be cider."

"May I remind you, Monsieur Lucas," Sir Charles put in anxiously,
"that Her Majesty prefers to drink milk?"

"I have already told you," said the chef, annoyed, "that the Queen
will drink cider like everybody else.... Nevertheless, Paillard, you
will kindly show me the contents of your cellar; there will, of
course, have to be wine for the Staff. The _tournedos_, I need hardly
say, are to be grilled over a charcoal fire, and larded, of course.
As to salad--seasoning, tomatoes and walnuts----"

As he gave his orders, he illustrated their execution with gestures
of the utmost solemnity, and his hands moved busily amongst imaginary
saucepans.

"The menu is short," he said, "but it must be perfect. The great cook
is better recognized by the perfection of a piece of beef--or let me
say rather by the seasoning of a salad--than by the richness of his
sweets. One of the finest successes in my career--the one I enjoy
recalling above all others--is that of having initiated the English
aristocracy into the mysteries of Camembert. The choice of fruit--now
I come to think of it, Paillard, have you any peaches?"

"I should think we had!" said the latter, breaking open the lid of a
crate which revealed a number of delicately shaded ripe peaches
glowing in their beds of straw and cotton-wool.

The chef took one and stroked it gently.

"Paillard, Paillard," he said sadly, "do you call _these_ peaches? I
can see you have been a soldier, poor fellow. Never mind, I can send
the car to Montreuil."

He remained a few minutes longer in meditation; then, satisfied at
last, he decided to leave the chateau. In the street, he took
Aurelle's arm very kindly.

"My friend," he said, "I think that will do, thank you. And if you
ever have the opportunity of seeing Their Majesties, don't let it
slip by. In France, you have very wrong ideas, I assure you; since
the Revolution, you have a prejudice against Royal Families. It is
childish; you can take my word for it. I have been living with this
one for more than five years, a