“Et que font-ils ces chats de Kilkigny, Monsieur le Prince de Ballybunion?” asked the Most Christian King haughtily.

Prince Daniel replied by narrating the well-known apologue of the animals “ating each other all up but their TEELS; and that’s what you and Imparial Pop yondther will do, blazing away as ye are,” added the jocose and royal boy.

“Je prie votre Altesse Royale de vaguer a ses propres affaires,” answered Prince Henri sternly:  for he was an enemy to anything like a joke; but there is always wisdom in real wit, and it would have been well for his Most Christian Majesty had he followed the facetious counsels of his Irish ally.

The fact is, the King, Henri, had an understanding with the garrisons of some of the forts, and expected all would declare for him.  However, of the twenty-four forts which we have described, eight only—­and by the means of Marshal Soult, who had grown extremely devout of late years—­declared for Henri, and raised the white flag:  while eight others, seeing Prince John Thomas Napoleon before them in the costume of his revered predecessor, at once flung open their gates to him, and mounted the tricolor with the eagle.  The remaining eight, into which the Princes of the blood of Orleans had thrown themselves, remained constant to Louis Philippe.  Nothing could induce that Prince to quit the Tuileries.  His money was there, and he swore he would remain by it.  In vain his sons offered to bring him into one of the forts—­he would not stir without his treasure.  They said they would transport it thither; but no, no:  the patriarchal monarch, putting his finger to his aged nose, and winking archly, said “he knew a trick worth two of that,” and resolved to abide by his bags.

The theatres and cafes remained open as usual:  the funds rose three centimes.  The Journal des Debats published three editions of different tones of politics:  one, the Journal de l’Empire, for the Napoleonites; the Journal de la Legitimite another, very complimentary to the Legitimate monarch; and finally, the original edition, bound heart and soul to the dynasty of July.  The poor editor, who had to write all three, complained not a little that his salary was not raised:  but the truth is, that, by altering the names, one article did indifferently for either paper.  The Duke of Brittany, under the title of Louis XVII., was always issuing manifestoes from Charenton, but of these the Parisians took little heed:  the Charivari proclaimed itself his Gazette, and was allowed to be very witty at the expense of the three pretenders.