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Updated: June 18, 2025
Good day, Jeanbernat. Albine, however, had fastened on the priest. 'You are the vicar of Les Artaud, aren't you? You have a sister? I'll go and see her. Only you must not speak to me about God. My uncle will not have it. 'You bother us, be off, exclaimed Jeanbernat, shrugging his shoulders. Then bounding away like a goat, dropping a shower of flowers behind her, she disappeared.
Jeanbernat did not condescend to notice them, but went his way, upright like a tree, through the clear night. 'The accursed one! Satan carries him on! shrieked Brother Archangias, as he hurled his last stone. 'An old scoundrel, that the least touch ought to upset! But he is baked in hell's fire. I smelt his claws. The Brother stamped with impotent rage on the scattered flints.
When the gig reached the turning to the village, Abbe Mouret would not let his uncle drive him back to the vicarage. He jumped down, saying: 'No, thanks, I prefer to walk: it will do me good. 'Well, just as you like, at last answered the doctor. And with a clasp of the hand, he added: 'Well, if you only had such parishioners as that old brute Jeanbernat, you wouldn't often be disturbed.
The priest, who felt greatly disturbed, and despaired of inducing his companion to come on, turned round to continue his journey, hoping that, by a quick walk to the Bambousses' house, he might yet manage to avoid Jeanbernat. But he had not taken five strides before he heard the bantering voice of the old man close behind him. 'Hie! Cure! wait for me. Are you afraid of me?
The real master is the caretaker, that old oddity, Jeanbernat, who has managed to find quarters in a lodge where the stones still hang together. There it is, see that grey building yonder, with its windows all smothered in ivy. The gig passed by a lordly iron gate, ruddy with rust, and lined inside with a layer of boards. The wide dry throats were black with brambles.
When the doctor had opened the gate of the narrow garden, which was enclosed by a lofty quickset hedge, there, in the shadow cast by a wall, they found Jeanbernat, tall and erect, and calmly smoking his pipe, as in the deep silence he watched his vegetables grow. 'What, are you up then, you humbug? exclaimed the astonished doctor.
The old man was digging a hole at the foot of a mulberry-tree. He had straightened his tall figure on hearing the approach of footsteps. But he promptly betook himself to his task again, throwing out at each effort a huge mass of rich soil. 'What are you doing there? asked Doctor Pascal. Jeanbernat straightened himself again and wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
He spoke on in the most unconcerned manner, pretending that he did not notice the presence of Brother Archangias; but as the latter suddenly broke into an angry grunt, he added, 'Why, Cure, so you bring your pig out with you? 'Take care, you bandit! hissed the Brother, clenching his fists. Jeanbernat, whose stick was still raised, then pretended to recognise him. 'Hands off! he cried.
Retreating yet a little further, Archangias picked from a heap of stones beside the road a piece of flint twice the size of a man's fist, and threw it at Jeanbernat. It would surely have split the other's forehead open if he had not bent down.
The door banged to, and everything vanished. 'Ah! the jade! cried Jeanbernat, 'she was in the Paradou again! Albine was now laughing on the threshold of the vestibule. She wore an orange-coloured skirt, with a large red kerchief fastened round her waist, thus looking like some gipsy in holiday garb.
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