"Yes, ten thousand cartridges! And terribly hungry too! My stomach doesn't thrive on adventures. Still, yours have amused me very much; but since you stopped talking, I feel that I need something solid."

"Do you want me to begin again?"

"No, no! I want you to come with me."

"But where shall we go?"

"Come on; forward!"

Jacques and his comrade started across the fields. They could not see very clearly and they did not know which direction to take. Jacques did not say a word, Sans-Souci sang and swore alternately, frequently cursing the hedges and bushes which barred their path. At last, after walking for an hour, they spied a light.

"Forward toward the light!" said Sans-Souci, doubling his pace; "they must give us some supper."

"Have you any money, Sans-Souci?"

"Not a sou; and you?"

"No more than you."

"No matter, let us go on all the same."

They approached the building from which the light came; it seemed to be large enough for a farm-house, but it was too dark to distinguish objects plainly. Sans-Souci felt his way forward and began to knock with all the strength of his feet and hands at the first door that he found.

In vain did Jacques urge him to make less noise; Sans-Souci was dying of hunger, and he listened to nothing but his stomach, which shouted as loud as himself.

At last two dogs that were prowling about the yard answered the uproar that he made; their barking awoke the cows, which began to low, and the donkeys, which began to bray; there was an infernal hurly-burly, in the midst of which the voice of a woman, who had come to a window, had difficulty in making itself heard.

"Who's that? What do you want? answer!"

"Ah! ten thousand cannonades! I am not mistaken; it's her, it's my brunette!--Didn't I tell you, Jacques, that we should get a supper; we are at her farm. Open, my duck, open quick! Love and hunger bring me back to you!"

"What? can it be him?"

"Yes, yes! It is him, it's me, it's us, in fact! Come, Louise, put on the necessary skirt, and come and let us in. But try to make your beasts quiet, for we can't hear ourselves talk here!"

The farmer's wife left the window to come down to admit them, and thereupon Sans-Souci informed Jacques that they were at the abode of the unfaithful sweetheart of whom he had spoken that morning, and who was at heart very kind, very sentimental,--she had given him proofs of it that morning,--very obliging, and that she made her husband a cuckold solely because of her temperament.

"But this husband," said Jacques; "he is the master in his own house, and----"

"No; in the first place, Louise is the mistress; in the second place, he's a good fellow. Oh! she told me all about it this morning; she wanted me then to pa.s.s some time at the farm, as a distant relative of hers, just back from the army. I didn't accept, because I had promised to join you, and your friendship goes ahead of everything; but so long as you are here, and we are our own masters, faith! it's a good wind that blows us to my old flame's house--Hush! here's the lady herself!"

Louise did in fact open the door at that moment; she seemed surprised at sight of Jacques.

"This is my friend, let me introduce him to you," said Sans-Souci; "he is a fine fellow, a good comrade, whom I don't ever mean to leave."

"Oh, well, then it's all right, he's our friend too. By the way, my husband's asleep, but it don't make any difference,--don't forget that you're my cousin, Sans-Souci."

"All right, that's agreed; now let's be off to the kitchen."

"I will make you an omelet with pork."

"That will be fine! But are you alone?"

"Our farm boy's to be married the day after to-morrow, and bless my soul! he is sleeping all he can beforehand."

"That's a good idea.--Give me the frying-pan."

In a short time the supper was prepared, and Sans-Souci and Jacques did full honor to it; Louise watched them, and laughed at the thought of her husband's surprise when he should find that two strangers had slept in his house.

"I am going to put you into the little cheese room. It is close by, and you can go into it without going through our room and waking up my man.

We will tell him all about it to-morrow."

Louise was very particular that they should not wake her husband; she guided the two newcomers to a small room where the cheeses which they made were placed on boards along the wall. They did not diffuse a very pleasant odor through the room, but two soldiers are not particular.

Jacques threw himself on the bed and slept soundly; Sans-Souci complained that the cheeses disturbed him, and he went out to take the air or for some other purpose; but the night pa.s.sed very comfortably, and the farmer did not wake inopportunely.

The next day everybody was up early. Farmer Guillot opened his eyes at his wife's story, when she told him about a cousin of hers having arrived during the night with one of his comrades. Guillot made haste to embrace his cousin and his friend; he welcomed them cordially, drank with them, found them exceedingly pleasant companions, and took them to see his farm, his hens, his oxen, his wheat and his hay. Our soldiers declared everything first-cla.s.s and splendidly kept up; they complimented the farmer, and they were soon the best friends in the world.

Jacques loved the country, the meadows, the woods, and work in the fields. Sans-Souci loved the farmer's wife and her cooking. In the evening, Jacques told Guillot about his battles, his sieges and his adventures. The farmer opened his eyes and held his breath; even Sans-Souci kept quiet and shared the pleasure of the peasants, which he prolonged by adding the story of his own experiences. Their adventures entertained the peasants to such a degree that they went more cheerfully to the fields in the morning, when the two soldiers had promised them a story for the evening.

The people of the village requested as a favor to be allowed to come and listen to Louise's cousin and his comrade; and as formality and ceremony are unknown in the country, the great living-room of the farm-house was crowded with villagers as soon as the work of the day was finished. The old woman brought her flax and her spinning-wheel, the housekeeper plied her needle, the maiden bound up the sheaves; in one corner a young peasant sifted his horse's grain; in another, the old man drank his ale, while the laborer smoked his pipe, leaning on a barrel; the children crawled about on the floor or played with Sans-Souci's moustache, while Louise prepared the soup, Guillot sorted out grains, and one and all had their eyes fixed upon Jacques, listening attentively to his description of a battle. When the affair became hot and Jacques grew animated, the faces of the listeners expressed anxiety, dread, terror; the old woman stopped her spinning-wheel, the laborer took his pipe from his mouth, the old man forgot his gla.s.s, the young man ceased to shake his sifter, and everyone, with head stretched forward and mouth wide open, awaited the result of the battle before resuming his former occupation.

A week pa.s.sed thus with great rapidity. Our two companions, who did not choose to pay for the farmer's hospitality with stories alone, went out in the morning to a.s.sist the peasants in their work. Jacques went with Guillot to the fields, and plowed and dug with great strength and good-will. At first the farmer had set his face against his working, but Jacques had insisted, and in a very short time had become very skilful. As for Sans-Souci, he preferred to remain in the house. Louise undertook to supply him with work and she kept him busy. She was a very capable woman, and a hand never lacked work with her; whether it was in the attic, or in the cellar, or in the garden, or in the kitchen, she found some way to employ him always.

After some time, the farm-hand who had married went to live in his cottage with his wife. Guillot was in need of some one to take his place; the farm was an extensive one, and its dependencies considerable, and the farmer felt that Jacques and Sans-Souci would be none too many to help him work it. He dared not make the proposition to the two men, but Louise, who was anxious to keep them, undertook to arrange the affair. At the first words which she said, Jacques joyfully embraced the farmer's wife.

"I was afraid," he said, "of being a burden to you, but you offer me the means of earning my living honorably and I accept with grat.i.tude. I will be a farm-hand, and I promise you that Sans-Souci will follow my example. We have both been soldiers, but whether one carries the musket or guides the plough, he is still serving his country, is he not?"

Thus everything was arranged to the perfect satisfaction of everyone.

Jacques devoted himself completely to his new occupation; sometimes, in the midst of his toil, the thought of his brother came to his mind, and then his features would become clouded, his hand rest on the spade, and his eyes turn toward the road to Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. But he instantly banished his melancholy thoughts, and resumed his work with renewed zeal, striving to banish Edouard's image from his heart.

XV

FOUR MONTHS OF MARRIED LIFE.--NEW PLANS

Edouard, his wife and Mamma Germeuil were settled in the pretty house at Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. Edouard, who had not mentioned his brother, had trembled with apprehension as he drew near the village, and he was even more agitated when he stepped inside his parents' former abode. He thought every instant that he should meet his brother, and on the day of his arrival he absolutely refused to walk in the garden. However, he had fully decided to welcome Jacques cordially and to present him to his wife's family; but while forming this resolution, he was conscious of an embarra.s.sment, a vague dread, which aroused a secret dissatisfaction in his heart.

On the second day after his arrival in the country, he privately questioned the concierge of his house:

"Has anybody been here in my absence? Have you seen that stranger again, that man who was forever standing at the foot of the garden?"

"No, monsieur, no, I haven't seen him again, and no one has been here to see you."

Edouard began to breathe more freely, and became more cheerful with the ladies. Time pa.s.sed, and the face with moustaches did not reappear.

Madame Germeuil sometimes referred to it, laughingly, with no suspicion of the distress which she caused her son-in-law; but they finally forgot the episode altogether, and Edouard recovered his tranquillity.