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Malassis reassured him as to the validity of such a will, and gave him the necessary instructions for preparing it. On May 29 Castaing sent Malassis the will of Auguste Ballet with the following note, "I send you the will of M. Ballets examine it and keep it as his representative." The will was dated December 1, 1822, and made Castaing sole legatee.
I had not been long on board before I found out, what seemed to have escaped the midshipmen's observation when they hired the boat, that the rigging was sadly rotten, and that she herself was in a somewhat leaky condition. They, however, only laughed at the leaking. "It will keep the boat sweet, and give Jack Nobs and Auguste something to do," observed Master Trundle, cocking his eye at me.
I was speaking of Auguste Champigny, who in youth thought only of making money and of making his plantation, already great, many times greater. The blood in his veins was old at twenty-two. He did not love the vices that the world calls such. But yet there were times, I knew, when he would have longed to go with the young, because youth cannot be crushed wholly at twenty-two.
Accompanied by Castaing and Jean, Auguste's black servant, Auguste and Prignon drove to the bank. There the order was cashed. Prignon's part of the business was at an end. He said good-bye to Auguste outside the bank. As the latter got into his cabriolet, carrying the bundle of notes, Prignon heard him say to Castaing: "There are the 100,000 francs."
It may be that in him I am paying the price of my sins. I have done everything to set him straight, but in vain. Monsieur, every son of the St. Gre's has awakened sooner or later to a sense of what becomes him. But Auguste is a fool," he cried bitterly, a statement which I could not deny; "were it not for my daughter, Antoinette, I should be a miserable man indeed."
Then again, I was twenty pounds heavier than he was, and could take care of myself. "Some nights after this I was dining alone, none of the boys having shown up owing to a heavy rain, when Auguste nudged me, and there sat this stranger within ten feet of my table. He dropped his eyes when he saw me looking at him, and began turning the sheets of a letter he had in his hand.
As Monsieur Auguste, the contre-maître of the bakery, opened the great stone door of the oven that I might peer into its hot depths, an historical cross-reference came into my mind that made me realize its high antiquity.
Most righteously, as a principal feature of the ceremonies of August, 1894, a bust of Auguste Caristie was set up in Orange close by the theatre which owes its saving and its restoration to the strong purpose of his strong heart. And then came another enthusiast they are useful in the world, these enthusiasts who took up the work at the point where Caristie had laid it down.
"Not a battle I ever fought before, Monsieur," said Michael; "nor do I ever wish to fight another; it's horrid weary work, this of knocking men's brains out, not to talk of the chance a man runs of losing his own." "But ain't you one of the Vendeans, my gallant comrade?" asked Auguste.
A murmur of disgust escaped Lisa and Augustine, and a horrified grimace passed over the face of Leon, who was preparing the skins for the black-puddings. Quenu stopped in the midst of his work and looked at Auguste, who seemed to have turned faint. Only little Pauline was smiling.
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