him.

"Why, you knave," I said, "you should be whipped, not rewarded.
Who gave you leave to play pranks on travellers?"

He looked at me with a droll smile on his round merry face, which
at its gravest was a thing to laugh at. "Let him whip who is
scared," he said, with roguish impudence. "Or if there is to be
whipping, my lord, whip Louis XI."

Thus reminded, I turned to the solemn traveller; but my eyes had
no sooner met his than he twisted his visage into so wry a smile
--if smile it could be called--that wherever there was a horse
collar he must have won the prize. To hide my amusement, I asked
them what they were. "Mountebanks?" I said curtly.

"Your lordship has pricked the garter offhand," the merry man
answered cheerfully. "You see before you the renowned Pierre
Paladin VOILA!--and Philibert Le Grand! of the Breton fairs,
monsieur."

"But why this foolery--here?" I said.

"We took you for another, monsieur," he answered.

"Whom you intended to frighten?"

"Precisely, your grace."

"Well, you are nice rogues," I said, looking at him.