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It is not that all this is so alarming, if taken the right way a woman with some courage in her heart and some flexibility in her mind supports the shock and does not die under it; but the firmest of us are amazed at it, and stand open-mouthed amid all these strange novelties, like a penniless gourmand in the shop of Potel and Chabot.
"They say Monsieur Gilet was laying hands on fifty thousand francs a year, when the colonel turned him out of his uncle's house." "Gilet rob a man! Come, don't say that to any one but me, Monsieur Canivet," cried Potel. "If you do, I'll make you swallow your tongue, and without any sauce." Every household in town offered prayers for the honorable Colonel Bridau.
"Is it any of our business what takes place among the old man's heirs?" said Renard. "Max is weak with women," remarked the cynical Potel. "There'll be sabres unsheathed before long," said an old sub-lieutenant, who cultivated a kitchen-garden in the upper Baltan.
"Is it any of our business what takes place among the old man's heirs?" said Renard. "Max is weak with women," remarked the cynical Potel. "There'll be sabres unsheathed before long," said an old sub-lieutenant, who cultivated a kitchen-garden in the upper Baltan.
If salmon could peer into the future, and if they had any ambition, they would desire, after death, to be artistically arrayed in fennel in the shop-window of Potel. Would not the accommodating bird who builds an edible nest work with redoubled ardour, if he could be assured that his house would be some day removed to the great window on "the Italiens?"
However, it is certainly economical, for I am not one of those to whom feather-beds give incomes; Mariette of the Grand Opera cost me fabulous sums." "Is that remark meant for me, my dear colonel?" asked Max, sending a glance at Philippe which was like a current of electricity. "Take it as you please," answered Bridau. "Colonel, my two friends here, Renard and Potel, will call to-morrow on "
After these words, spoken in a feverish tone, the three Bonapartists returned to the group of officers and mixed among them. Max bowed first to Bridau, who returned his bow, and the two exchanged a frigid glance. "Come, gentlemen, let us take our seats," said Potel. "And drink to the health of the Little Corporal, who is now in the paradise of heroes," cried Renard.
Major Potel wounded his so severely, that the unfortunate young man, the son of a good family, died in the hospital the next day. As for the third, he got off with a sword cut, after wounding his adversary, Captain Renard. The battalion left for Bourges that night. This affair, which was noised throughout Berry, set Max up definitely as a hero.
So, although Major Potel and Captain Renard, two officers living in the Rome suburb, were friends to Maxence Gilet "through thick and thin," Major Mignonnet and Captain Carpentier took sides with the bourgeoisie, and thought his conduct unworthy of a man of honor.
"We will appoint you to preside, and sit ourselves on either side of you. Max, as vice-president, will of course sit opposite," said Mignonnet. "Oh! the scoundrel will have Potel and Renard with him," said Carpentier. "In spite of all that Issoudun now knows and says of his midnight maraudings, those two worthy officers, who have already been his seconds, remain faithful to him."
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