He had a fortune, he
asked no salary, and could look the envoy very well. Father
O'Flaherty did all the duties, and furthermore acted as a spy over
the ambassador--a sinecure post, for the man had no feelings,
wishes, or opinions--absolutely none.
"Upon my life, father," said this worthy man, "I care for nothing.
You have been talking for an hour about the Regent's death, and the
Duchess of Phalaris, and sly old Fleury, and what not; and I care
just as much as if you told me that one of my bauers at Galgenstein
had killed a pig; or as if my lacquey, La Rose yonder, had made love
to my mistress."
"He does!" said the reverend gentleman.
"Ah, Monsieur l'Abbe!" said La Rose, who was arranging his master's
enormous Court periwig, "you are, helas! wrong. Monsieur le Comte
will not be angry at my saying that I wish the accusation were
true."
The Count did not take the slightest notice of La Rose's wit, but
continued his own complaints.
"I tell you, Abbe, I care for nothing. I lost a thousand guineas
t'other night at basset; I wish to my heart I could have been vexed
about it. Egad! I remember the day when to lose a hundred made me
half mad for a month. Well, next day I had my revenge at dice, and
threw thirteen mains.
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