Part 110 (1/2)
”No; but I don't bear you any grudge for it, all the same.”
”That's very kind of you.”
”Oh! I'm a pretty good devil.”
”Well, I'll tell you why I sent for you.”
”I'm all ears.”
”Wait. You'll hear better if your gla.s.s is full than if it's empty.”
”Are you a doctor for deaf folk?” asked the postilion, banteringly.
”No; but I've lived a good deal among drunkards,” replied Montbar, filling Antoine's gla.s.s again.
”A man is not a drunkard because he likes wine,” said Antoine.
”I agree with you, my good fellow,” replied Montbar. ”A man is only a drunkard when he can't carry his liquor.”
”Well said,” cried Antoine, who seemed to carry his pretty well. ”I'm listening.”
”You told me that you didn't understand why I had sent for you.”
”That's what I said.”
”Still, you must have suspected that I had an object?”
”Every man has an object, good or bad, according to our priest,”
observed Antoine, sententiously.
”Well, my friend,” resumed Montbar, ”mine is to make my way by night, without being recognized, into the courtyard of Master Nicolas-Denis Lollier, postmaster at Belleville.”
”At Belleville,” repeated Antoine, who had followed Montbar's words with all the attention he was capable of. ”You wish to make your way by night, without being recognized, into the courtyard of Master Nicolas-Denis Lollier, postmaster at Belleville, in order to see the beautiful Josephine? Ah, ha! my sly dog!”
”You have it, my dear Antoine; and I wish to get in without being recognized, because Father Lollier has discovered everything, and has forbidden his daughter to see me.”
”You don't say so. Well, what can I do about it?”
”Your wits are still muddled, Antoine. Drink another gla.s.s of wine to brighten them up.”
”Right you are,” exclaimed Antoine.
And he swallowed his sixth gla.s.s of wine.
”You ask what you can do, Antoine?”
”Yes, what can I do? That's what I ask.”
”Everything, my friend.”