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The Abbe Raffin, who knew his man, and who never lost his temper, burst out laughing. "Well, yes, I'll tell your father my little story; but you, my lad, you'll go there to the sermon." Houlbrèque extended his hand in order to give a solemn assurance: "On the word of a poor man, if you do this for me, I promise that I will." "Come, that's all right. When do you wish me to go and find your father?"
Moreover, the hierarchy of caste does not exist in the fields, and if the laborer is thrifty, he becomes, by taking a farm in his turn, the equal of his former master. So Césaire Houlbrèque went off with his whip under his arm, brooding over his own thoughts, and lifting up one after the other his heavy wooden shoes daubed with clay. Certainly he desired to marry Céleste Lévesque.
Then they all began to talk of this incident, reckoning up the chances which Maitre Houlbreque had of finding or of not finding his pocketbook again. The meal went on. They were finishing their coffee when the corporal of gendarmes appeared on the threshold. He asked: "Is Maitre Hauchecorne, of Breaute, here?"
In fact, the man who thus went off, Cesaire Houlbreque, the son of deaf old Amable Houlbreque, wanted to marry, in spite of his father, Celeste Levesque, who had a child by Victor Lecoq, a mere laborer on her parents' farm, who had been turned out of doors for this act.
Maitre Hauchecorne, seated at the other end of the table answered: "Here I am, here I am." And he followed the corporal. The mayor was waiting for him, seated in an armchair. He was the notary of the place, a tall, grave man of pompous speech. "Maitre Hauchecorne," said he, "this morning on the Beuzeville road, you were seen to pick up the pocketbook lost by Maitre Houlbreque, of Manneville."
"Why, the sooner the better-to-night, if you can." "In half an hour, then, after supper." "In half an hour." "That's understood. So long, my lad." "Good-by till we meet again, Monsieur le Cure; many thanks." "Not at all, my lad." And Cesaire Houlbreque returned home, his heart relieved of a great weight. He held on lease a little farm, quite small, for they were not rich, his father and he.
The Abbe Raffin, who knew his man and who never lost his temper, burst out laughing. "Well, yes, I'll tell your father my little story; but you, my lad, you'll come to church." Houlbreque extended his hand in order to give a solemn assurance: "On the word of a poor man, if you do this for me, I promise that I will." "Come, that's all right. When do you wish me to go and find your father?"
In fact, the man who thus went off, Césaire Houlbréque, the son of deaf old Amable Houlbréque, wanted to marry in spite of his father, Céleste Lévesque, who had a child by Victor Lecoq, a mere laborer on his parent's farm, turned out of doors for this act.
"Why, the sooner the better-to-night, if you can." "In half an hour, then, after supper." "In half an hour." "That's understood. So long, my lad." "Good-by till we meet again, Monsieur le Cure; many thanks." "Not at all, my lad." And Cesaire Houlbreque returned home, his heart relieved of a great weight. He held on lease a little farm, quite small, for they were not rich, his father and he.
Then they all began to talk of this incident, reckoning up the chances which Maitre Houlbreque had of finding or of not finding his pocketbook again. The meal went on. They were finishing their coffee when the corporal of gendarmes appeared on the threshold. He asked: "Is Maitre Hauchecorne, of Breaute, here?"
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