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Updated: May 22, 2025
Jupille trotted before us, carrying his rod in one hand, a luncheon-basket and a fish-bag in the other. He turned round and gave us a look at each cross-road, smiled beneath his heavy moustache, and went on faster than before. I felt sure that something out of the way was about to happen, and that the silent quill-driver was tasting a quiet joke. I had not guessed the whole truth.
The matter really was a new line, invented by M. Jupille, cast a little further than an ordinary one, and rigged up with a float like a raft, carrying a little clapper. The fish rang their own knell as they took the hook. "It's rattling like mad!" cried Jupille, "and you don't stir! I couldn't have thought it of you, Monsieur Flamaran."
Go and see him." Not knowing whom I was about to address, I gave a warning cough as I came near him. The unknown drew a loud breath, like a man who wakes with a start. "That you, Jupille?" he said, turning a little way; "are you out of bait?" "No, my dear tutor, it is I." "Monsieur Mouillard, at last!" "Monsieur Flamaran! Jupille told the truth when he said I should be surprised.
Really, Jupille, what are you thinking of? And I a professor, too! Thirty years ago it would have been excusable, but to- day! Besides, Sidonie expects me home to dinner " He stopped for a moment, undecided, looking at his watch. Jupille, who was eying him intently, saw his distinguished friend gradually relax his frown and burst into a hearty laugh.
"By Jove! it's madness at my age, but I don't care. We'll renew our youth for an hour or so. My dear Mouillard, Jupille has ordered dinner for us here. Had I been consulted I should have chosen any other place. Yet what's to be done? Hunger, friendship, and the fact that I can't catch the train, combine to silence my scruples. What do you say?" "That we are in for it now." "So be it, then."
"No, no, Jupille, I'm going to keep him," answered M. Flamaran; "I haven't uttered a syllable for three hours. I must let myself out a little. We will fish side by side, and chat." "As you please, Monsieur Flamaran; but I don't call that fishing." He handed me the implement, and sadly went his way.
"I saw a man carrying coals into the house, and asked for whom they were, that's all." Again, we had a talk, just now, which shows what progress I have made in the old clerk's heart. He had just submitted a draft to me. I had read it through and grunted my approval, yet M. Jupille did not go. "Anything further, Monsieur Jupille?"
"That shows you don't know me. Any sport?" "Not so loud! Yes, capital sport. I'll bait a line for you." "And where is your friend, Monsieur Jupille?" "There he is." "Where?" "Staring you in the face; can't you see him?".
At a turn of the road M. Flamaran suddenly pulled up, looked all around him, and drew a deep breath. "Hallo, Jupille! My good sir, where are you taking us? If I can believe my eyes, this is the Chestnut Knoll, down yonder is Plessis Piquet, and we are two miles from the station and the seven o'clock train!" There was no denying it.
Jupille, on the other hand, was as pale as if he had been in a street riot, and seemed rooted to the spot where he stood. "It's all right, Jupille; it's all right, man! A little ready wit is all you need, dash my wig!" The old clerk gradually regained his composure, and the dinner grew very merry. Flamaran's spirits, raised by this little incident, never flagged.
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