"Do kings ever know when a tumult will take place?" replied the other,
shrugging his shoulders with an air of pity.

"Oh, oh!" said M. Miton; "this man talks in a singular way. Do you know
who he is, compere?"

"No."

"Then why do you speak to him? You are wrong. I do not think he likes to
talk."

"And yet it seems to me," replied Friard, loud enough to be heard by the
stranger, "that one of the greatest pleasures in life is to exchange
thoughts."

"Yes, with those whom we know well," answered M. Miton.

"Are not all men brothers, as the priests say?"

"They were primitively; but in times like ours the relationship is
singularly loosened. Talk low, if you must talk, and leave the stranger
alone."

"But I know you so well, I know what you will reply, while the stranger
may have something new to tell me."

"Hush! he is listening."

"So much the better; perhaps he will answer. Then you think, monsieur,"