"We were prepared for this delicacy on the part of the Count, monsieur Morrie," replied Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines. "And I have brought weapons that I found in a troll-boutique a little over a week ago, to compensate for the fact that they had no good tobacco."
Finally, Réginard came riding on the pony Gras-Lompequin.
As he descended, they saw that he was pale, with red swollen eyes strangely reminiscent of Vau-de-mort. One saw that he either had not slept a second that night, or had become evil. His entire physiognomy was marked by a sad gravity that was not habitual to him.
"Merci, messieurs, for having consented to yield to my invitation, and to you as well, M. Morrie," said he. "I am one could not be more grateful of this mark of friendship."
"Monsieur Morrie," said Château-Renard, "you can inform the Count that we are at his disposal."
"Wait, messieurs," said Réginard. "I have a few words I would like to address to the Count of Monte Fato in the presence of all."
The Count advanced, accompanied by his seconds, the serenity of his visage forming a contrast to the tormented expression of Réginard.
