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Updated: May 19, 2025
"All right, Sir," said Jacques, and he left the room muttering: "He's growing from bad to worse; he is a stingy old niggard." What was Tom Soher doing all this time? He was drinking. He had never loved Adèle Rougeant, and when he saw that there was not much chance of winning her, he took to drink. In reality, he preferred his bottle to his cousin.
Rougeant came back with the mug brimming. The conversation continued to flow, so did the cider. The men were getting excited. "It's time for us to go out and choose a hiding-place," said Tom. "Yes, let us go," said his uncle. They went out. The farmer hid himself behind a hedge, Tom went opposite him on the other side of the road also taking advantage of the cover which a hedge afforded him.
He began to talk about agricultural chemistry, but he was soon stopped by his host. "I don't believe in theory," interrupted Mr. Rougeant, "give me facts, show me results. A great many people write about farming who can hardly distinguish a parsnip from a carrot." The young man dared not go against the farmer. He saw, by his manner, that he was not a man to be contradicted. He looked at Adèle.
How he raised him and sent him home we have already seen. When Mr. Rougeant was again with his daughter, he kept a dogged silence. She gathered from his demeanour that he had had a frightful shock, but took great care not to question him. Hardly a word was exchanged between them that evening.
Lebours began: "First prize for French has been won by Adèle Rougeant, but the committee of ladies have decided that as she is about to pursue her studies elsewhere, she will not receive the prize. It will be given to the one next to her, who is going to remain under Miss Rader's excellent tuition." This little speech having been delivered by Mrs.
"The booby," she said to her husband, so that Frank could hear; "he was not a little attached to his mother's apron-strings." Frank did not say a single word and the storm soon abated. A few days afterwards found him walking near "Les Marches," hoping to meet Adèle Rougeant. He was not successful. Still, he continued his visits, hoping to meet her some day. He was at last rewarded for his pains.
Rougeant what he meant by a totaïe. "Oh, it's a capital thing," responded the latter, "toasted bread soaked in warm cider. You swallow cider and all; if that does not drive a cold away, nothing will." While the young lady was busily engaged in toasting the bread, Frank thought it best to take his leave. Mr. Rougeant asked him to pay them a visit on the morrow. The young man promised to call.
Rougeant rising, "I am trembling all over now." He had been shivering for the last quarter of an hour. When he was half way up the stairs he called out: "Of course you will wait till I come down again, I shall not be long Mr. ." "All right, Sir, don't hurry," answered Frank. Left alone in the kitchen, the young man had time to examine the room. He had never been in a farm-house before.
When she opened the wicket gate, Adèle gave a horror-stricken start. She perceived the form of a man, stretched at full length before the front door. She could not restrain a cry of alarm. Frank, who had followed her, hastily advanced to see what was the matter. He had not gone far, before he saw the front-door open, and Mr. Rougeant come out, holding a lighted candle in his hand.
I think he will soon regain consciousness. Is there any water about here?" "Not that I know of," she said, "but I will hasten home and bring some." While she was gone, Mr. Rougeant opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he said, after in vain trying to recollect his thoughts. "With a friend," answered Frank, bending over him. The farmer closed his eyes, then opened them again and fixed them on Frank.
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