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Updated: May 20, 2025
Perhaps he had noticed how pale and hollow Saint Rigobert's cheeks were, and half guessed the cause. At all events he said kindly: "I pray thee, stay and dine with us, thou and the boy yonder. See, the meat is ready, and there is room for many more at table." But Saint Rigobert had a service to hold in the church at Gernicour, and knew they had barely time to reach home if they walked briskly.
And then with a great fluttering a big white goose came circling down right before Saint Rigobert's feet. The good Saint stopped short in surprise, and Pierre, turning about, could hardly believe his eyes. But sure enough, there was the very same goose, looking up into Saint Rigobert's face and cackling as if trying to tell him something. "I didn't mean to run away," he seemed to say.
"'Toss, then, I said, returning it to him. 'Face! I called, as he spun it up. It twinkled in the air like a humming-bird, a score of francs to each flick of its wings, and his palm intercepted it as it fell. I leaned across to see; behind Rigobert's shoulder the waiter leaned likewise. The poor fellow had really no chance to practice those little tricks in which he is eminent. I had won.
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