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Updated: June 27, 2025
The emotion which overwhelmed Napoleon at Waterloo as he beheld his triumphant squadrons go down into the sunken road was not a whit more complete than the despair of the Comte de Bonzag when he realized that the one hundred and ten thousand francs which the laws of probability had finally produced was now the property of Francine, the cook. One hundred and ten thousand francs! It was colossal!
"Well, Monsieur le Comte," Francine said at last with a sigh, "I'll take them for twenty francs. It's not good round silver, and there's my little girl " "Enough!" exclaimed de Bonzag, dismissing her with an angry gesture. "I am making you an heiress, and you have no gratitude! Leave me and send hither Andoche."
"Yes, indeed, M'sieur." "To listen when I speak, to forget you were a peasant, to give me three desserts a week, and never, madame, to show me the slightest infidelity." At these last words, Francine, already overcome by the rapid whirl of fortune, as well as by the overcharged spirits of the potent Burgundy, burst into tears. "And no tears!" said De Bonzag, withdrawing sternly.
There was, of course, Andoche, the Sapeur-Pompier; but a Bonzag who had had three months' experience with the feminine heart of Paris was not the man to trouble himself over a Sapeur-Pompier. That evening, in the dim dining-room, when Francine arrived with the steaming soup, the Comte, who had waited with a spoon in his fist and a napkin knotted to his neck, plunged valiantly to the issue.
"M'sieur wants wants me to be Comtesse de Bonzag?" "Immediately." "Oh!" Springing up, Francine stood a moment gazing at him in frightened alarm; then, with a cry, she vanished heavily through the door. "She has gone to Andoche," said the Comte, angrily to himself. "She loves him!"
The return of the married couple was the sensation of Keragouil, for the Comte de Bonzag, after the fashion of his ancestors, had placed his bride behind him on the broad back of Quatre Diables, who proceeded with unaltered equanimity.
I swear it on the image of St. Jacques d'Acquin." "You have not lied to me about your child?" cried Bonzag in horror. "No, no, M'sieur; not that," said Francine. Then, hiding her face, she said: "M'sieur, I hid something from you: I loved Andoche." "Ah!" said the Comte, with a sigh of relief. He sat down, adding sympathetically: "My poor Francine, I know it. Alas! That's what life is."
"It's it's good round pieces of silver I need." "Francine," cried de Bonzag, in amazed indignation, "do you realize that I probably have given you a fortune and that I am absolving you of all division of it with me!" "But, M'sieur " "That there are one hundred and forty-five numbers that will draw prizes." "Yes, M'sieur le Comte; but "
In great perturbation he left the room promenading on the esplanade, in the midst of his hounds, talking uneasily to himself. "Peste, I put it to her a little too suddenly! It was a blunder. If she loves that Sapeur-Pompier, eh? A Sapeur-Pompier, to rival a Comte de Bonzag faugh!"
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