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Nine months later, on the 21st of September in the same year, four young non-commissioned officers, Bories, Raoulx, Goubin, and Pommier, condemned to death for the conspiracy of Rochelle, were on the point of undergoing their sentence; M. de La Fayette and the head committee of the Carbonari had vainly endeavoured to effect their escape.
"Putois was born in the second half of the nineteenth century, at Saint-Omer. He would have been better off if he had been born some centuries before in the forest of Arden or in the forest of Brocéliande. He would then have been a remarkably clever evil spirit." "A cup of tea, Monsieur Goubin," said Pauline. "Was Putois, then, an evil spirit?" said Jean Marteau.
Messieurs Goubin and Jean Marteau having arrived, Monsieur Bergeret put them in touch with the conversation. "We were speaking of him whom my mother caused to be born gardener at Saint-Omer and whom she christened. He existed from that time on." "Dear master, will you kindly repeat that?" said Monsieur Goubin, wiping the glass of his monocle. "Willingly," replied Monsieur Bergeret.
Everywhere and always, beings who have no more reality than Putois have inspired nations with hatred and love, terror and hope, have advised crimes, received offerings, made laws and customs. Monsieur Goubin, think of the eternal mythology. Putois is a mythical personage, the most obscure, I grant you, and of the lowest order.
"Is it nothing then, but an imaginary existence?" exclaimed the master. "And have not mythical beings the power to influence men! Consider mythology, Monsieur Goubin, and you will perceive that they are not real beings but imaginary beings that exercise the most profound and lasting influence on the mind.
"He corrected the bad effect of these egotistical expressions by employing quantities of adjectives, and he is often spoken of, most often without judgment." "I do not understand," said Monsieur Goubin. "It is not necessary to understand," replied Jean Marteau. And he begged Monsieur Bergeret to speak of Putois. "It is very kind of you to ask me," said the master.
"There was no gardener. The gardener did not exist. My mother said: 'I am waiting for the gardener. At once the gardener was. He lived." "Dear master," said Monsieur Goubin, "how could he live since he did not exist?" "He had a sort of existence," replied Monsieur Bergeret. "You mean an imaginary existence," Monsieur Goubin replied, disdainfully.
He was conceived by minds too reasonable, among people who knew how to read and write, and who had not that delightful imagination in which fables take root. I think, Messieurs, that I have said enough to show you the real nature of Putois." "I understand it," said Monsieur Goubin. And Monsieur Bergeret continued his discourse. "Putois was. I can affirm it. He was.
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