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Updated: May 3, 2025
Abbe, that carriage is no good for anything else but to play spillikins with." The horses had fallen topsy-turvy, one on the other, and were kicking furiously. In a heap of croups and legs and steaming bellies, one of the postboys was buried, his boots in the air. The other was spitting blood in the ditch, where he had been thrown. M. d'Anquetil shouted to them: "Idiots!
My good master was carried to the graveyard close by the church; and M. d'Anquetil offered supper at Gaulard's to all the people who had assisted at the funeral. They drank new wine and sang Burgundian songs. Afterwards I went with M. d'Anquetil to the vicar to thank him for his good offices. "Ah!" he said, "that priest has given us a grand consolation by his edifying end.
I do not want to colour my faults, and I freely confess that the embassy I undertook at the request of M. d'Anquetil is an outcome of Eve's downfall, and it was, to say it bluntly, one of the numberless consequences, on the wrong side, of the humble and painful sentiment which I now feel, and is drawn out of the desire and hope of my eternal welfare.
I must look to it as soon as the coach can be raised. I am also in fear for my Boethius, which I had placed under the cushions with some other good books." "It does not matter," said M. d'Anquetil. "I have the cards in my waistcoat pocket. But shall we not get any supper?" "I had thought of it," said the abbe.
On the night before my departure, while M. d'Anquetil drank and played cards with the barber-surgeon, Jahel and I went to the market place to get a breath of air. It was embalmed by the scent of herbs and full of the song of crickets. "What a night!" I said to Jahel. "The year cannot produce another like it, and perhaps all my life long I shall never see one so sweet."
I resolved to look for employment at Tournus or at Macon, and to remain hidden till the storm had calmed down sufficiently to enable me to return to Paris, where I was sure to be received with outstretched arms by my dear parents. I imparted my intention to M. d'Anquetil, and excused myself for not accompanying him any farther.
Whatever she may have done, that kiss and the rest, do not render her the less pleasant to look at. The infidelities of women do not spoil their beauty. Nature, pleased to adorn them, is indifferent to their faults; follow her, and forgive Catherine." I seconded my tutor's entreaties, and M. d'Anquetil consented to free the prisoner.
Suddenly, Jahel whispered in my ear, where her mouth was already placed: "I see M. d'Anquetil, who, from the top of the wall, looks eagerly towards us." "Can he see us in this shadow?" I asked. "He certainly sees my white petticoat," she said; "it's enough, I think, to tempt him to look for more."
M. d'Anquetil, whose military qualities were aroused by the knocker's onslaught, after reconnoitring, exclaimed: "Ah! Ah! Ah! Do you know who knocks? It is M. de la Gueritude with his full-bottomed periwig and two big flunkeys carrying lighted torches." "That's not possible," said Catherine, "at this very moment he is in bed with his old woman." "Then it is his ghost," said M. d'Anquetil.
"That's not good at all," he replied, "and I do not like it, my dear young gentleman. I like a large wound which bleeds freely." "I see," said M. d'Anquetil, "that for a leech and a village squirt your test is not a bad one. Nothing is worse than those little but deep wounds which look a mere nothing. Tell me of a nice cut across the face. It's pleasant to look on, and heals in no time.
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