ased and
comforted by the words of his grandfather that had made him look forward
to a speedy return to his family and country. The soothing thought was
so visibly reflected in his candid features that Octave met him with the
merry remark:

"What a magician that grandfather of yours must be! You rode off
preoccupied and fretful, angrily burying your spurs into the flanks of
your horse, who, poor animal, had done nothing to excite your wrath.
Now, behold! You return as placid as a bishop astride of his mule."

"The magic of my grandfather has chased away my sadness. You speak
truly, Octave."

"So much the better. I shall now be free, without fear of reviving your
chagrin, to give a loose to the increasing joy that I feel at every
step."

"Why does your joy increase at every step, my dear companion?"

"Because even the dullest horse becomes livelier and more spirited in
the measure that he approaches the house where he knows that he will
find provender."

"Octave, I did not know you for such a glutton!"

"In that case, my looks are deceptive, because a glutton, that am
I--terribly gluttonous of those delicate dainties that are found only at
court, and that constitute my provender."

"What!" exclaimed Vortigern ingenuously. "Is that great Emperor, whose
name fills the world, surrounded by a court where nothing is thought of
but dainties and gluttony?"

"Why, of course," answered Octave gravely and hardly able to refrain
from laughing outright at the innocence of the young Breton. "Why, of
course. And what is more, more so than any of the counts, of the dukes,
of the men of learning, and of the bishops at court, does the Emperor
himself lust after the dainties that I have in mind. He always keeps a
room contiguous to his own full of them. Because in the stillness of the
night--"

"He rises to eat cakes and, perhaps, even sweetmeats!" exclaimed the lad
with disdain, while Octave, unable longer to contain himself, was
laughing in his face. "I can think of nothing more unbecoming than
guzzling on the part of one who governs empires!"

"What's to be done, Vortigern? Great princes must be pardoned for some
pecadillos. Moreover, with them it is a family failing--the daughters of
the Emperor--"

"His daughters also are given to this ugly passion for gormandizing?"

"Alas! They are no less gluttonous than their father. They have six or
seven dainties of their own--most appetizing and most appetized."

"Oh, fie!"