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In another moment Chesnel appeared; Josephin, the Count's gray-aired valet, admitted the notary without announcing him. "Chesnel, my boy, it was very presumptuous of you to lend money to the Comte d'Esgrignon! If I repaid you at once and we never saw each other again, it would be no more than you deserve for giving wings to his vices."
They bought a brill from a fisherman and another sailor offered to take them out sailing, repeating his name, "Lastique, Josephin Lastique," several times, that they might not forget it, and the baron promised to remember. They walked home, chattering like two children, carrying the big fish between them, Jeanne having pushed her father's walking cane through its gills.
In another moment Chesnel appeared; Josephin, the Count's gray-aired valet, admitted the notary without announcing him. "Chesnel, my boy, it was very presumptuous of you to lend money to the Comte d'Esgrignon! If I repaid you at once and we never saw each other again, it would be no more than you deserve for giving wings to his vices."
Then the man offered his services if ever they wanted to go sailing, telling them his name, "Lastique, Joséphin Lastique," over and over again so that they should not forget it. The baron promised to remember him, and then they started to go back to the château.
The horse, left to its own devices, made a bolt for the stable along the Quai d'Orsay; but as he turned into the Rue de l'Universite, Josephin appeared to stop the runaway. "You cannot go home, sir," the old man said, with a scared face; "they have come with a warrant to arrest you."
It grieved the Marquis that he could send but one servant with his son; but he gave him his own valet Josephin, a man who can be trusted to take care of his young master, and to watch faithfully over his interests. The poor father must do without Josephin, and hope to replace him with a young lad.
"But the body of the bill is in my handwriting," objected Victurnien, without a sign of surprise at this reckless devotion. "Idiot!... that is, pardon, M. le Comte. Josephin should have been made to write it," the old notary cried wrathfully. "He is a good creature; he would have taken it all on his shoulders.
The Marquis looked grave as he left the room with a friendly gesture of farewell to Chesnel. "I thank M. le Marquis for all his goodness," returned the old man, who still remained standing. Mlle. Armande rose to go to the door with her brother; she had rung the bell, old Josephin was in readiness to light his master to his room.
Next, we have various predictions uttered by Mme. de Thèbes, by Dom Bosco, by the Blessed Andrew Bobola, by Korzenicki, the Polish monk, by Tolstoy, by Brother Hermann and so on, which are even less interesting; and lastly the prophecy of "Brother Johannes," published by M. Joséphin Peladan in the Figaro of 16 September, 1914, which contains no evidence of genuineness and must therefore meanwhile be regarded merely as an ingenious literary conceit.
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