you know--the latest news of M. de Bonaparte; do not
conceal anything, however serious,--let us see, the Island of Elba is a
volcano, and we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling
war--bella, horrida bella." M. Dandre leaned very respectfully on the
back of a chair with his two hands, and said,--

"Has your majesty perused yesterday's report?"

"Yes, yes; but tell the duke himself, who cannot find anything, what the
report contains--give him the particulars of what the usurper is doing
in his islet."

"Monsieur," said the baron to the duke, "all the servants of his majesty
must approve of the latest intelligence which we have from the Island
of Elba. Bonaparte"--M. Dandre looked at Louis XVIII., who, employed in
writing a note, did not even raise his head. "Bonaparte," continued
the baron, "is mortally wearied, and passes whole days in watching his
miners at work at Porto-Longone."

"And scratches himself for amusement," added the king.

"Scratches himself?" inquired the duke, "what does your majesty mean?"

"Yes, indeed, my dear duke. Did you forget that this great man, this
hero, this demigod, is attacked with a malady of the skin which worries
him to death, prurigo?"

"And, moreover, my dear duke," continued the minister of police, "we are
almost assured that, in a very short time, the usurper will be insane."

"Insane?"

"Raving mad; his head becomes weaker. Sometimes he weeps bitterly,
sometimes laughs boisterously, at other time he passes hours on
the seashore, flinging stones in the water and when the flint makes
'duck-and-drake' five or six times, he appears as delighted as if he had
gained another Marengo or Austerlitz. Now, you must agree that these are
indubitable symptoms of insanity."

"Or of wisdom, my dear baron--or of wisdom," said Louis XVIII.,
laughing; "the greatest captains of antiquity amused themselves
by casting pebbles into the ocean--see Plutarch's life of Scipio
Africanus."

M. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch and the
truthful minister. Villefort, who did not choose to reveal the whole
secret, lest another should reap all the benefit of the disclosure, had
yet communicated enough to cause him the greatest uneasiness.

"Well, well, Dandre," said Louis XVIII., "Blacas is not yet convinced;
let us proceed, therefore, to the usurper's conversion." The minister of
police bowed.

"The usurper's conversion!" murmured the duke, looking at the kin