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Updated: May 18, 2025
Gorenflot, who asked no better than to go, was soon out of the room; but David, having now recovered from his surprise, and confident in his skill as a swordsman, stood waiting for Chicot, with his sword in his hand and a smile on his lips. "Dress yourself, monsieur," said Chicot; "I do not wish to take any advantage of you. Do you know what I have come to seek in this room?"
The monk raised himself from the ground as quickly as he could. "Now lead me to the hole." "Where you wish." "Go on, then, wretch." Gorenflot went on as fast as he was able, while Chicot indulged himself by giving him a few blows with the cord. They traversed the corridor, and descended into the garden. "Here! this way," said Gorenflot. "Hold your tongue, and go on."
"I should like to go also," thought Chicot; "but for that I want two things a monk's robe, for I see no layman here, and then this mysterious thing which they show to the porter, for certainly they show something. Ah, Brother Gorenflot, if you were here!" The monks continued to arrive, till it seemed as if half Paris had taken the frock.
It was wonderful to see Borromée with his arms in his hands, his eye dilated, and his vigorous arm wielding his sword in so skillful a manner that one would have thought him a trained soldier. Each time that Borromée gave an order, Gorenflot repeated it, adding: "Brother Borromée is right; but I told you all that yesterday. Pass the pike from one hand to the other!
"It swallowed a chicken at a meal." "And how will it be dressed?" "Skinned and fried in anchovy paste, and done with bread crumbs; and I shall have the honor of serving it up with a sauce flavored with garlic and allspice, lemons and mustard." "Perfect!" cried Chicot. Brother Eusebius breathed again. "Then we shall want sweets," said Gorenflot. "I will invent something that shall please you."
The monks seemed at first to hesitate to speak to him, but at last one said: "Poor dear brother!" Gorenflot sighed, and raised his eyes to Heaven. "You know the prior waits for you?" "Ah! mon Dieu!" "Oh! yes; he ordered that you should be brought to him as soon as you came in." "I feared it," said Gorenflot. And more dead than alive, he entered the convent, whose doors closed on him.
"Poor devil!" said the king, "take good care of him." "Oh! be easy, sire, he will want for nothing with me." "Oh! M. Chicot, dear M. Chicot," cried Gorenflot, "where am I to be taken to?" "You will know soon. Meanwhile, monster of iniquity, thank his majesty." "What for?" "Thank him, I tell you." "Sire," stammered Gorenflot, "since your gracious majesty "
It was quite a royal purse, embroidered with an "H" at each end. "It is pretty," said Chicot, "no one could be more generous or more stupid. Decidedly I shall never make anything of the king. All that astonishes me is that he did not have the letter embroidered outside also. Now let me see how much money he has sent. One hundred crowns; just the sum I borrowed from Gorenflot.
The next morning, about the time when Gorenflot woke from his nap, warmly rolled in his frock, our reader, if he had been traveling on the road from Paris to Angers, might have seen a gentleman and his page, riding quietly side by side. These cavaliers had arrived at Chartres the evening before, with foaming horses, one of which had fallen with fatigue, as they stopped.
Chicot, seeing by the look of the table that there would be no cruelty in staying his companion's repast, said, "Come, now we must go on; at Melun we will lunch." Gorenflot got up, merely saying, "At Melun, at Melun." They went on for about four leagues, then Gorenflot lay down on the grass to sleep, while Chicot began to calculate.
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