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Updated: May 15, 2025
For his Eminence wanted the Cavaliere to be a Friend of France, and France at that time thought that she very much wanted the Island of Malta. Don Ercolo was not in the least angry; only, he Laughed in my Face. "Chevalier Escarbotin," he said gaily, "you have mistaken your man. Tell his Eminence the Cardinal de that he may go and hang himself. I am not to be bought.
You are a Lutheran; although how you came to be a Protestant, with that name of Escarbotin, I can't make out." I murmured something about belonging to the Reformed Church at Geneva; although I forgot that they were mostly Calvinists there, not Lutherans. But of this Don Ercolo took little notice, and went on.
I was Richer in Purse and more bravely Dressed than ever I had been in my life, and travelled under the name of the Chevalier Escarbotin; but I was a Spy, and in mine own eyes I was the Meanest of the Mean.
We had t'other Flask, and very good Wine it was; and for the rest of the time I remained in Malta, Don Ercolo continued to be my Fast Friend, even as he had been in my Youth. But I wanted nothing in this way, having ample Credits; so making up my Valises with all convenient Speed, the Chevalier Escarbotin bade adieu to Malta.
A happy Mercurial Temper and cheerful Flow of Spirits soon, however, revived within me; and, ere Ten Leagues of my Journey were over, the Chevalier Escarbotin became once more to himself Jack Dangerous. "I will work the Mine of my Manhood," I cried out in the Chaise, "to the last Vein of the Ore. Vive la Joie!"
I have been too much among men not to be able to scent out a Spy. But you are a very Jovial Fellow, Escarbotin; and I don't care what you are, so long as you are not a Turk, which, by the way, I don't think you would mind turning." "O, Signore Cavaliere!" I began to expostulate. "What does it matter?" quoth Don Ercolo. "Does it matter anything at all?
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