"Ah! If you guess this one, general, I will herald you king of
Thebes! But, with all my follies, I forgot that your time is
precious and that I am detaining you needlessly with my nonsense."

"That is so! Have you any commissions for Paris?"

"Yes, three; my regards to Bourrienne, my respects to your brother
Lucien, and my most tender homage to Madame Bonaparte."

"I will deliver them."

"Where shall I find you in Paris?"

"At my house in the Rue de la Victoire, perhaps."

"Perhaps--"

"Who knows? Perhaps at Luxembourg!" Then throwing himself back
as if he regretted having said so much, even to a man he regarded
as his best friend, he shouted to the postilion, "Road to Orange!
As fast as possible."

The postilion, who was only waiting for the order, whipped up
his horses; the carriage departed rapidly, rumbling like a roll
of thunder, and disappeared through the Porte d'Oulle.