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In Switzerland, I believe, a bell-ringer has for years been collecting material for a heraldic memorial. I should think," he continued, laughing, "that his avocation would interfere with his vocation." "And do you think," said Gévingey bitterly, "that the profession of astrologer is less decried, less neglected?" "How do you like our cider?" asked the bell-ringer's wife.
"But," said Durtal, somewhat disappointed, "it isn't what shall I say? very profound." The door opened. "Why, how are you!" said Carhaix, shaking hands with Gévingey, and then introducing him to Durtal. While the bell-ringer's wife finished setting the table, Durtal examined the newcomer.
Go to your friends; they are expecting you in the bell-ringer's tower. They have been talking about me, thinking it is I who keep you in the house. Go out to walk, uncle! Go and speak of those things that stir you so much, and that those poor people listen to open-mouthed. Be careful as you go up the stairs; go slowly and stop often, so that the demon of the cough, may not get hold of you."
But he is an ignoramus who, after studying for his profession, can do no better than sell tickets and squeeze the poor." Luna returned to the meetings in the bell-ringer's house.
"Ah!" said Durtal, somewhat surprised at the man's self-satisfaction. "Dinner is ready," said the bell-ringer's wife. Des Hermies, doffing his apron, appeared in his tight cheviot garments. He was not so pale as usual, his cheeks being red from the heat of the stove. He set the chairs around.
Just before the benediction I saw a man near by who seemed to stare at me. In deadly fear I got up and quickly slipped through a door into the tower room. I said to myself, "He will follow me or wait outside." I stood a moment with my head all of a whirl, and then in a shiver of fear ran up the stairs to the tower until I got into the bell-ringer's room. I was safe.
"I have so considered and reconsidered," said Sancho, "that the bell-ringer's in a safe berth; as will be seen by what follows." "It would be well," said Don Quixote, "if your highnesses would order them to turn out this idiot, for he will talk a heap of nonsense."
"My heavenly Saviour!" sighed the bell-ringer's wife, "what a lot of filth." "But," said Durtal, "in the Middle Ages the mass was celebrated in a different fashion. The altar then was the naked buttocks of a woman; in the seventeenth century it was the abdomen, and now?" "Nowadays a woman is hardly ever used for an altar, but let us not anticipate.
"I intended to stay longer up there," thought he. "It's only half-past five. I must kill at least half an hour before dinner." The weather was almost mild. The clouds had been swept away. He lighted a cigarette and strolled about the square, musing. Looking up he hunted for the bell-ringer's window and recognized it. Of the windows which opened over the portico it alone had a curtain.
Luna remembered the bell-ringer's offer, but soon he heard the sound of many steps magnified by the echo as if a whole host were advancing. "Who goes there?" shouted Gabriel, rather alarmed. "It is us, man," answered from the darkness the husky voice of Mariano. "Did I not tell you we should come down?"
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