I have tasted nothing half so good since I left Paris." "Postilion!" cried Nicot, pushing Le Borgne aside.
"Monsieur," continued the youth imperturbably, "I am on the king's service." Several at the tables stretched their necks to observe the stranger.

A courier from the king was not an everyday event in Rochelle.

De Puys rose.
"Pah!" snorted Nicot; "you look the groom a league off.

Leave the table." "All in good time, Monsieur.

If I wear the livery of a stable-boy, it is because I was compelled by certain industrious gentlemen of the road to adopt it in exchange for my own.