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Updated: June 27, 2025
"If you expect some one else, I am not the last," said the count. "I agree to that reasoning," said Mistigris. Georges and Oscar began to laugh impertinently. "The old fellow doesn't know much," whispered Georges to Oscar, who was delighted at this apparent union between himself and the object of his envy. "Parbleu!" cried Pierrotin, "I shouldn't be sorry for two more passengers."
"Presently," said that functionary, who was standing, whip in hand, and gazing toward the rue d'Enghien. At this moment the scene was enlivened by the arrival of a young man accompanied by a true "gamin," who was followed by a porter dragging a hand-cart. The young man came up to Pierrotin and spoke to him confidentially, on which the latter nodded his head, and called to his own porter.
"You can harness that horse you want to sell me into the cabriolet; we'll breakfast in peace and overtake Pierrotin, and I can judge of the beast as we go along. We can go three in your jolter." To the count's surprise, Pierrotin himself rebridled the horses. Schinner and Mistigris had walked on.
In summer, that golden period for the coaching business, the rule of departure, rigorous toward strangers, was often relaxed for country customers. This method not infrequently enabled Pierrotin to pocket two fares for one place, if a countryman came early and wanted a seat already booked and paid for by some "bird of passage" who was, unluckily for himself, a little late.
"Ten louis for you if you keep the secret of my being here as I told you before," said the count in a low voice, taking Pierrotin by the arm. "Oh, my thousand francs!" thought Pierrotin as he winked an eye at Monsieur de Serizy, which meant, "Rely on me." Oscar and Georges stayed in the coach.
"Pierrotin," said Oscar, "leave my things at the steward's. I am going straight to the chateau." Whereupon Oscar plunged into a narrow path, not knowing, in the least, where he was going. "Hi! Monsieur l'ambassadeur," cried Pere Leger, "that's the way to the forest; if you really want to get to the chateau, go through the little gate."
I've just left my bed after an illness of three months, from the germ, so the doctors said, of suppressed plague." "Have you had the plague?" cried the count, with a gesture of alarm. "Pierrotin, stop!" "Go on, Pierrotin," said Mistigris. "Didn't you hear him say it was inward, his plague?" added the rapin, talking back to Monsieur de Serizy. "It isn't catching; it only comes out in conversation."
Pierrotin, now about fifty-six years old, was little changed. Still dressed in a blue blouse, beneath which he wore a black suit, he smoked his pipe, and superintended the two porters in livery, who were stowing away the luggage in the great imperiale. "Are your places taken?" he said to Madame Clapart and Oscar, eyeing them like a man who is trying to recall a likeness to his memory.
Moreau, the only protector of a woman whom he had known in possession of millions, obtained a half-scholarship for her son, Oscar Husson, at the school of Henri IV.; and he sent her regularly, by Pierrotin, such supplies from the estate at Presles as he could decently offer to a household in distress. Oscar was the whole life and all the future of his mother.
Proud of this service, which necessitated the hire of an extra horse, Pierrotin was wont to say: "We went at a fine pace!" But in order to do the twenty-seven miles in five hours with his caravan, he was forced to omit certain stoppages along the road, at Saint-Brice, Moisselles, and La Cave. The hotel du Lion d'Argent occupies a piece of land which is very deep for its width.
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