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But still, I'll come back to-morrow and exhort him, for I owe him, by the example of our Lord, unlimited compassion. But I have my doubts about it. Unhappily there is a break in my winepress, and all the labourers are in the vineyard. Coquebert, do not fail to give word to the carpenter, and to call me to your patient if he should suddenly get worse. These are many troubles, Coquebert!"
M. Coquebert, can I go to my vineyard?" "You can, sir," replied the barber. "The wound is not a good one, but yet not of the kind by which one dies at once. It's one of those wounds which play with the wounded like a cat with a mouse, and with such play time may be gained." "That's well," said the vicar. "Let's thank God, my son, that He lets you live, but life is precarious and transitory.
By his order, his wife, a stout dame wearing a white cap covered by a felt hat, put sheets on the bed in the lower chamber. She helped us to undress the Abbe Coignard and to put him to bed. And then she went out to fetch the vicar. In the meanwhile M. Coquebert examined the wound "You see," I said, "it's small, and bleeds but little."
They are only dreams." "Coquebert," said the vicar, "you don't speak well. Patients' confessions must be listened to, and some Christians who never in all their lives said a good word may, at the end, pronounce words which open Paradise to them." "I spoke temporally only," said the barber.
The white ones can wait; it's not bad if they do get a little overripe, and a little rain would only produce more and better wine. But the red must be gathered at once." "You speak the truth, Monsieur le Cure," M. Coquebert replied. "I've in my vineyard some grapes which cover themselves with a certain moisture, and which escape the sun only to perish by the rain."
How can I dare to come unto you, I who do not feel any good in me to give me courage? How can I introduce you into me, after having so often wounded your eyes full of kindness?" And the Abbe Coignard received the holy viaticum in profound silence, interrupted by our sobs and by the great noise Madame Coquebert made blowing her nose.
One of them said to Jahel that Gaulard on the market place lodges man and beast. "As to the surgeon, Coquebert, you'll see him yonder under the shaving plate which serves as his trade sign. He leaves his house to go to his vineyard." He was a very polite little man. He told us that he had a bed free in his house, as a short time ago his daughter had got married.
Do not think of it any more, and let me give the abbe a cooling drink, for he wakes up." At this very moment M. Coquebert approached the bedside, his instrument-case in hand, dressed the wound anew, and said aloud that the wound was on the best way to heal up.
Jahel wanted to remain the night with him. At about eleven o'clock I left the house of M. Coquebert and went in search of a bed at the inn of M. Gaulard. I found M. d'Asterac in the market place. His shadow in the moonlight covered nearly all the surface.
"He is jovial," said Madame Coquebert. "But just now he talked of me in a manner quite indecent Should I have deceived Coquebert I certainly would not have done it with the vicar, out of regard for his profession and his age." This very moment the vicar entered the room and asked: "Well, abbe, what are your dispositions now? What is there new?"
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