" They entered the laboratory, where it was
warm, and the King, who was observant, noticed at once the recipe
which the Doctor had left there.
"What are you doing behind my back? What recipe have you been
writing? Is it poison or medicine? Oil of vitriol is poison, salts
of ammonia are only for dysentery, saltpetre produces scurvy. For
whom have you made this mixture?"
"It is for the gardener's cow, which has calved," answered the
Doctor, who certainly did not wish to prolong the tyrant's life.
The King laid down on a sofa. "Jacob," he said, "you must not go
away; I will not eat, but I will sleep, and you must sit here by me.
I have had to sleep for eight nights. But put out the fire; it hurts
my eyes. Don't let down the blinds; I want to see the sun; otherwise
I cannot sleep."
He seemed to fall asleep, but it was only a momentary nap. Then he
grew wide awake again, and sat up in bed.
"Why do you keep starlings in your garden, Jacob?"
"I have no starlings," answered the Doctor impatiently, "but if you
have heard them whistling, sire, they must be there with your
permission."
"Don't you hear them, then?"
"No! but what are they singing?"
"Yes, you know! After the shameful treaty of Peronne, when I had to
yield to Charles of Burgundy, the Parisians taught their starlings
to cry 'Peronne!' Do you know what they are saying now?"
The Doctor lost patience, for he had heard these old stories
thousands of times: "They are not saying 'Guienne,' are they?" he
asked.
Pages:
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266