"Let us respect his sleep," said Borromée, overturning a chair, however, as he spoke.
At the sound, Gorenflot looked up and said, sleepily, "Who is there?"
"Pardon us," said Borromée, "if we interrupt your pious meditations, but I have come to take your orders."
"Ah! good-morning, Brother Borromée; what orders do you want?"
"Those which your reverence ordered to be brought here."
"Without doubt," replied Borromée, firmly.
"Your reverence said to me, 'Brother Borromée, it would be wise to procure arms for the use of the brethren; gymnastic exercises develop the bodily forces, as pious exhortations do those of the soul.'"
"Yes, reverend prior; and I, an unworthy but obedient brother, hastened to obey."
"It is strange, but I remember nothing about it."
"You even added this text, '_Militat spiritu, militat gladio._'"
"What!" cried Gorenflot, "I added that text!"
"I have a faithful memory," said Borromée, lowering his eyes.
"Well, if I said so, of course I had my reasons for it. Indeed, that has always been my opinion."
"Then I will finish executing your orders, reverend prior," said Borromée, retiring with Jacques.
"Ah!" said Borromée, "I had forgotten; there is a friend in the parlor who asks to see your reverence."
"Oh! he is not a friend; only an acquaintance."
"Oh, yes! let him come up; he amuses me."
When Chicot entered, the prior did not rise, but merely bent his head.
"Ah! there you are; you appear to have come to life again."
Chicot knew that before being warmed by two or three bottles of old Burgundy, Gorenflot was sparing of his words; and so, considering the time of the morning, it was probable that he was still fasting, Chicot sat down to wait.
"Will you breakfast with me, M. Briquet?" asked Gorenflot.
"You must not be angry with me, if it has become impossible for me to give you as much time as I could wish."
"And who the devil asked you for your time? I did not even ask you for breakfast; you offered it."
"Ah! a superior man like you can adopt any habits, M. le Prior."
Gorenflot looked at Chicot; he could not tell whether he was laughing at him or speaking seriously. Chicot rose.
"Why do you rise, M. Briquet?" asked Gorenflot.
"And why are you going away, when you said you would breakfast with me?"
