"Not a great deal, Monsieur; he is often absent for a considerable time."
"And is he poor?" I inquired.
"I pay rent to him for this house. It is not much; but I find he cannot wait long for it," he replied, smiling satirically.
"From what I have heard, however, I should think he cannot be very poor?" I continued.
"They say, Monsieur, he plays. I know not. He certainly is not rich. About seven months ago, a relation of his died in a distant place. His body was sent to the Count's house here, and by him buried in Père la Chaise, as the poor gentleman had desired. The Count was in profound affliction; although he got a handsome legacy, they say, by that death. But money never seems to do him good for any time."
"He is old, I believe?"
"Old? We call him the 'Wandering Jew,' except, indeed, that he has not always the five sous in his pocket. Yet, Monsieur, his courage does not fail him. He has taken a young and handsome wife."
"And she?" I urged-"Is the Countess de St. Alyre."
"Yes; but I fancy we may say something more? She has attributes?"
"Three, Monsieur, three, at least most amiable."
"Ah! And what are they?"
"Youth, beauty, and--diamonds."
I laughed. The sly old gentleman was foiling my curiosity.
"I see, my friend," said I, "you are reluctant--"
"To quarrel with the Count," he concluded. "True. You see, Monsieur, he could vex me in two or three ways, so could I him. But, on the whole, it is better each to mind his business, and to maintain peaceful relations; you understand."
It was, therefore, no use trying, at least for the present. Perhaps he had nothing to relate. Should I think differently, by-and-by, I could try the effect of a few Napoleons. Possibly he meant to extract them.
The host of the Dragon Volant was an elderly man, thin, bronzed, intelligent, and with an air of decision, perfectly military. I learned afterwards that he had served under Napoleon in his early Italian campaigns.
"One question, I think you may answer," I said, "without risking a quarrel. Is the Count at home?"
"He has many homes, I conjecture," said the host evasively. "But--but I think I may say, Monsieur, that he is, I believe, at present staying at the Château de la Carque."
I looked out of the window, more interested than ever, across the undulating grounds to the château, with its gloomy background of foliage.
"I saw him today, in his carriage at Versailles," I said.
"Very natural."
"Then his carriage, and horses, and servants, are at the château?"