"
Seeing the state in which he was, I could think of nothing better
than to rally him, and even laugh at him. "You think so now,
sire," I said. "It is the cold hour. By and by, when you have
broken your fast, you will think differently."
"But, it may be, less correctly," he answered; and as he sat
looking before him with gloomy eyes, he heaved a deep sigh. "My
friend," he said, mournfully, "I want to live, and I am going to
die."
"Of what?" I asked, gaily.
"I do not know; but I dreamed last night that a house fell on me
in the Rue de la Ferronerie, and I cannot help thinking that I
shall die in that way."
"Very well," I said. "It is well to know that."
He asked me peevishly what I meant.
"Only," I explained, "that, in that case, as your Majesty need
never pass through that street, you have it in your hands to live
for ever."
"Perhaps it may not happen there--in that very street," he
answered.
"And perhaps it may not happen yet," I rejoined. And then, more
seriously, "Come, sire," I continued, "why this sudden weakness?
I have known you face death a hundred times.
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