Part 34 (1/2)

”Come, hussar, it's your turn to play,” said Amaury, a small, fair young man, with a dull eye.

”Besides, she's taken herself off,” said Viollet.

If any one ever betrayed astonishment it was Plissoud when he beheld the usurer of Blangy sitting at one of the tables, and more occupied in watching him, Plissoud, than in noticing the quarrel that was going on.

In spite of himself, the sheriff allowed his face to show the species of bewilderment which a man feels at an unexpected meeting with a person whom he hates and is plotting against, and he speedily withdrew into the billiard-room.

”Adieu, Pere Socquard,” said Rigou.

”I'll get your carriage,” said the innkeeper; ”take your time.”

”How shall I find out what those fellows have been saying over their pool?” Rigou was asking himself, when he happened to see the waiter's face in the mirror beside him.

The waiter was a jack at all trades; he cultivated Socquard's vines, swept out the cafe and the billiard-room, kept the garden in order, and watered the Tivoli, all for fifty francs a year. He was always without a jacket, except on grand occasions; usually his sole garments were a pair of blue linen trousers, heavy shoes, and a striped velvet waistcoat, over which he wore an ap.r.o.n of homespun linen when at work in the cafe or billiard-room. This ap.r.o.n, with strings, was the badge of his functions. The fellow had been hired by Socquard at the last annual fair; for in this valley, as throughout Burgundy, servants are hired in the market-place by the year, exactly as one buys horses.

”What's your name?” said Rigou.

”Michel, at your service,” replied the waiter.

”Doesn't old Fourchon come here sometimes?”

”Two or three times a week, with Monsieur Vermichel, who gives me a couple of sous to warn him if his wife's after them.”

”He's a fine old fellow, Pere Fourchon; knows a great deal and is full of good sense,” said Rigou, paying for his lemonade and leaving the evil-smelling place when he saw Pere Socquard leading his horse round.

Just as he was about to get into the carriage, Rigou noticed the chemist crossing the square and hailed him with a ”Ho, there, Monsieur Vermut!”

Recognizing the rich man, Vermut hurried up. Rigou joined him, and said in a low voice:--

”Are there any drugs that can eat into the tissue of the skin so as to produce a real disease, like a whitlow on the finger, for instance?”

”If Monsieur Gourdon would help, yes,” answered the little chemist.

”Vermut, not a word of all this, or you and I will quarrel; but speak of the matter to Monsieur Gourdon, and tell him to come and see me the day after to-morrow. I may be able to procure him the delicate operation of cutting off a forefinger.”

Then, leaving the little man thoroughly bewildered, Rigou got into the carriole beside Marie Tonsard.

”Well, you little viper,” he said, taking her by the arm when he had fastened the reins to a hook in front of the leathern ap.r.o.n which closed the carriole and the horse had started on a trot, ”do you think you can keep Bonnebault by giving way to such violence? If you were a wise girl you would promote his marriage with that hogshead of stupidity and take your revenge afterwards.”

Marie could not help smiling as she answered:--

”Ah, how bad you are! you are the master of us all in wickedness.”

”Listen to me, Marie; I like the peasants, but it won't do for any one of you to come between my teeth and a mouthful of game. Your brother Nicolas, as Aglae said, is after La Pechina. That must not be; I protect her, that girl. She is to be my heiress for thirty thousand francs, and I intend to marry her well. I know that Nicolas, helped by your sister Catherine, came near killing the little thing this morning. You are to see your brother and sister at once, and say to them: 'If you let La Pechina alone, Pere Rigou will save Nicolas from the conscription.'”

”You are the devil incarnate!” cried Marie. ”They do say you've signed a compact with him. Is that true?”

”Yes,” replied Rigou, gravely.