The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 78

"Oh, yes, monsieur; for we be all great jokers to our place! and sly dogs!"

"One can see that by looking at you."

"And the way we drink--it's a regular benediction!"

"That's very good," said Bertrand; "so you have good wines, do you?"

"Oh, famous! My sister's got her own vineyard; she's one of the biggest farmers in the place; and see! when a woman marries off her son, why she makes the corks fly, you know. The wedding'll last at least a week. If you think you'd enjoy it, messieurs, you'd better come with me; you'll be made welcome, and you'll see some good fellows. My sister'll be glad to see you, and so will Cadet, for he likes folks from the city. You're Parisians, ain't you, messieurs?"

"As you say, Monsieur----"

"Rondin, at your service. Well! do you accept?"

Auguste looked at Bertrand; the idea of attending a village wedding was decidedly attractive to him, and the ex-corporal, for his part, felt a secret longing to make the acquaintance of Monsieur Cadet Eustache's wine; but the fear that his master would become too well acquainted with the ladies of the party led him to resist the longing, and he whispered to Auguste:

"Decline, lieutenant; that's the wisest thing to do, believe me; if we keep stopping on the road, our tour of the world will be simply a short trip to Bourgogne, which is not the land of your Virgils and Tibulluses; and we shall return to Paris without making a fortune."

"I am very sorry to decline your invitation, Monsieur Rondin," said Auguste, "but my companion reminds me that our business requires our presence in Italy as soon as possible. In truth, if we keep this conveyance, I don't think that we shall arrive there for a long time to come; I believe that the knave is driving at a walk; so that his miserable vehicle can make its sixteenth trip to Naples, no doubt.--I say, driver--are you asleep, my friend? Do you think it's a joke to drive like this?"

The driver turned and coolly informed his pa.s.sengers that his horses were going at their ordinary pace, which they never varied, but that he would undertake to set them down without mishap at their destination.

"That is very pleasant," said Bertrand; "it means that we are to go all the way to Italy as if we were following a hea.r.s.e; if the driver has made the trip fifteen times at this gait, he must have begun very young.

And you, Monsieur Rondin, on your way to a wedding--aren't you in a hurry?"

"Oh! they'll wait for me. Besides, Cadet must have a chance to rest before he gets married."

"Has the groom been travelling too?"

"Yes, monsieur, he's just come from Paris--that's where he brought his bride from."

"Aha! so he went to Paris for a wife?"

"I'll tell you, messieurs: Cadet's a sly one, who'll never let anyone play it on him! The girls of his village, they're a lot of hussies, and so, to be sure of getting something good, he went to Paris to look for a wife."

"He must be a very clever rascal."

"Oh! he's the shrewdest lady-killer within six leagues; his mother she lets him do just as he wants to, so off he goes to Paris, where he had business anyway. After some time he writes home as how he's found the woman as suits him. Well, well! she must be virtue and innocence itself, you see! for Cadet knows what's what in the matter of women."

"And he found this treasure in Paris?"

"Not just in Paris, but in the outskirts. So, as he took his charmer's fancy, he brought her back with him, and he's going to marry her. That's why I'd like to have you come to the wedding, to tell me what you think of my nephew's choice."

Auguste would have liked to make the acquaintance of the bride whom Monsieur Cadet Eustache had found in the suburbs of Paris. He thought of Denise, and imagined that Monsieur Rondin's nephew had found some young village maiden as fresh and pretty and alluring as the little milkmaid.

That thought made him sigh.

"Perhaps she too is married!" he said to himself; "for she was in love with someone; she told me as much when she said that she would never love me."

Auguste had ceased to smile since his memories had taken him back to Montfermeil. The peasant, surprised by his neighbor's melancholy, dared not suggest again his coming to the wedding, and Bertrand said under his breath:

"It would certainly be good fun to stay at table for a whole week; but there's always some pretty face at a wedding party, and I musn't expose my lieutenant to the risk of running off with another woman, for I shan't always have the good fortune to fall in with a leather merchant."

Nothing more was said, and the _carriole_ crawled on. In four hours they made but one league. At the end of that time, Pere Rondin, who was fond of talking, said to Auguste:

"If you're going to Italy on business, it's safe to say you won't get there in time. Be you an attorney?"

"No, I am a painter and a musician."

"A painter and a musician! Jarni! that's just what we want! you could play for our girls to dance, and paint a picture of the bride! That would be a nice surprise for Eustache!"

"Parbleu!" thought Auguste, "it would be funny enough if I should make the first trial of my talents on these good people!--What do you say, Bertrand? I rather like the idea of painting the bride's portrait."

"You see, Cadet wrote me as how she's a fine figure of a girl," said Pere Rondin. "Be you good at catching resemblances?"

"Why, I haven't tried anything else as yet. However, I'll paint whatever you wish.--Come, Bertrand, this decides me. We'll go to the wedding."

"The wedding it is, monsieur. But for G.o.d's sake, don't do anything foolish, but remember your resolutions."

"Never fear, you will be satisfied with me."

Pere Rondin was overjoyed that he had induced the travellers to attend the wedding; he was even on the point of inviting the driver too, when the vehicle, which was moving at a snail's pace, was overturned into a ditch, the only one by the road at that time, and the travellers rolled over one another. Luckily they got off with a few bruises, and the driver calmly busied himself with getting his horses on their feet, informing his pa.s.sengers that he was sorry that he had not warned them, but that ever since he had been driving over that road he rarely failed to be upset there, because his horses had fallen into that habit.

That accident put the finis.h.i.+ng touch to the travellers' disgust with the wretched _carriole_.

"It ain't only a day's walk from here to our place," said Pere Rondin; "let's foot it. We'll get there a blamed sight quicker if we walk."

The peasant's suggestion was accepted. They left the _carriole_.

Bertrand took one valise, Auguste absolutely insisting on taking the other, and they started.

It was a lovely country. They were delighted that they were travelling on foot. Pere Rondin was familiar with the roads. They halted only once for refreshment, and the next morning they arrived at Monsieur Cadet Eustache's farm.

They were not a hundred yards away when a tall youth rushed out and threw himself on Pere Rondin's neck, crying:

"Here's uncle! come on, uncle! I'm only waiting for you to get married!

and I tell you, I just long to be!"

"Good-day, Cadet. See, I've brought along a couple of good fellows, my boy; this gentleman who makes pictures and music, and Monsieur Bertrand, who drinks straight, I warn you."

Monsieur Cadet Eustache bowed low to the two travellers, then said to his uncle:

"Haven't you brought anybody else?"

"What do you mean by that, my boy?"

"Why, if you'd had some more too, it would have been all the better, because we mean to have some fun, you see! But never mind--they make two more, anyway."

"Haven't you got many people at your wedding?"

"Oh! there's eighty of us already."