"Morbleu! my lieutenant, Monsieur Auguste."

"On my word! do I know where he is? What a question! when he's been living in my room a fortnight!"

"He's in your room?--I have found him! I shall see him again!"

In his joy, Bertrand embraced Virginie and once more knocked the hapless chicken to the ground. This time it fell into the gutter and Virginie was ready to weep.

"Won't you please let me alone!" she cried; "this chicken's for Auguste; and after I've had so much trouble to get it, you'll be the cause of his not being able to eat it!"

"Oh! don't cry! I'll buy you more chickens--ten--twenty--an ox, if you choose! But, for the love of G.o.d, take me to my lieutenant straight away. I am in haste to embrace him!"

"What! then you still care for him?"

"Care for him! Who can ever have doubted my attachment, my devotion to his person?"

"Then you didn't abandon him in England on purpose?"

"Abandon him! when it was in his service--for his welfare----"

"Oh! dear old Bertrand! I was perfectly sure he was a good fellow. Come, my little Bertrand, let's go to Auguste. My! but he'll be glad when he knows that you are still worthy of his affection!"

Virginie and Bertrand walked toward Rue de Berry. On the way, Virginie told the old servant of all the disasters that had befallen Auguste, and of the serious illness that he had had. As he listened to these details, Bertrand wiped his eyes now and then and exclaimed:

"Sacrebleu! why didn't I find him sooner? But I only returned to Paris the day before yesterday; and I intended to go to Montfermeil to-morrow to look for him, hoping to be luckier there than in this city, where Schtrack and I have been scouring every quarter for two days, without success."

At last they reached the house in which Virginie lived; as they went upstairs Bertrand was as excited as if he were going to see a long lost son; and Virginie said to him:

"You mustn't show yourself to Auguste right away; he is still very weak, and the sight of you might cause him too much emotion. You understand, don't you, Bertrand?"

"Yes, mademoiselle."

"I'll go in first, and prepare Auguste gently; then I'll motion to you."

"Yes, mademoiselle, I'll wait in another room."

"No; as I have but one, you must wait on the landing. I'll leave the door ajar."

"All right; but don't wait long before you give me the signal, for I am crazy to have my arms around him."

They arrived at Virginie's door; she opened it, then partly closed it, and Bertrand stood as close as possible, hardly daring to breathe.

Auguste had risen and was sitting at a window, impatiently awaiting Virginie, whose long absence made him anxious.

"Here I am, my friend," she said, as she entered the room; and she hung about Auguste with as much embarra.s.sment as she had shown in front of the cookshop. "Here I am; I've been rather long, but--but--it was because I met someone who is much better than a chicken."

"You met someone?"

"Yes--someone who--someone----"

Before Virginie could think of what she wanted to say, Bertrand, unable to contain himself any longer, opened the door, rushed to Auguste, and threw his arms about him, crying:

"It was me, sacrebleu! it was me! But I can't stay hidden any longer; I must embrace him!"

Bertrand could not make up his mind for some minutes to release his hold of Auguste, and Virginie exclaimed reproachfully:

"There! you see! he couldn't wait till I motioned to him; he'll make Auguste worse!"

"No," said the convalescent, "no, happiness never does that! My poor fellow! so you have come back!"

"And you could believe that I abandoned you!" said Bertrand, taking Auguste's hand. "You doubted the love of your old comrade, your faithful servant!--I admit that my hurried departure must have surprised you; but when you know!"

"You are here, Bertrand, and everything is forgotten!"

"Oh! listen to me first, and then tell me if I behaved so very badly.--You remember that I left you in the common room of a village tavern where we had just breakfasted. I had just paid our bill when, as I crossed the courtyard, I saw a man whose face attracted my attention, and whom I recognized instantly as our rascal of a Destival."

"Destival!" cried Auguste.

"The man who robbed you!" said Virginie.

"He was just getting into a post-chaise when I caught sight of him. He couldn't have seen me, but the carriage had started before I recovered from my surprise. So then, without taking the time to warn you, because I didn't want to lose a minute for fear our man would escape me, I ran to the stable, saddled my horse, and galloped off in pursuit of our rascal. I soon overtook the post-chaise; but I knew that, in a foreign country, it would be a hard matter to make the villain disgorge, and that I could not rely on anyone but myself to do justice. So I followed the carriage, awaiting a favorable opportunity to see my man in private.

For two days the infernal chaise stopped only to change horses; at last, at the end of the second day, they stopped at the posting inn, and my rascal, who evidently needed rest, entered the inn. I lost no time in following him, and asked to speak to the traveller who had just come in. They showed me his room. I went upstairs, entered the room, and began by locking myself in with our man, who, when he saw me, nearly fainted in an easy-chair. I went up to him, took his arm, and said to him: 'You are a thief, you ruined my master, but you won't ruin anybody else; I taught you once to handle weapons, and we'll see if you remember my lessons. Here are two pistols--take one. We shall be very comfortable in this room--four paces is distance enough when one doesn't want to miss. Let's make haste.'

"Instead of taking the pistol I handed him, the miserable wretch threw himself at my feet and begged for mercy. I demanded your money back. He took a wallet out of his pocket, showed me a hundred and sixty thousand francs in notes of the Bank of France, and swore that that was all that was left of what he took away from Paris. I concluded that that was better than nothing, and that I ought to get your money back for you rather than kill the villain. So I took the wallet, and, leaving the scoundrel more dead than alive, I went out of his room and locked him in. I remounted my horse and rode back as fast as I could to the place where I had left you; when I got there, my horse was foundered and I didn't find you. I rode about in all directions, but no one could tell me anything about you. I started for Scotland, where we had intended to go. I pa.s.sed three weeks visiting every corner there, even the smallest villages, but I wasn't any more fortunate. At last I decided to return to France, and I got to Paris the day before yesterday. My first thought was to go and question Schtrack; he hadn't seen you and he didn't know mademoiselle's address; we began to walk the streets trying to find you.

But here you are! I have found you. I can give you what I have rescued of your property.--That is a report of my conduct, lieutenant; now, are you angry with me?"

For all reply, Auguste opened his arms to Bertrand, who handed him the wallet; while Virginie capered about the room, dancing with the chairs, and tossing her cap in the air, crying:

"Vive Bertrand! Auguste isn't poor any more! we'll have a high old time now!"

When the first outburst of joyous excitement had subsided, Auguste told Bertrand what he had done since he left him. He did not conceal from him the miserable plight to which he was reduced when Virginie came to his garret. He told him all that she had done for him--how she had worked and sat up all night, and all the sacrifices that she had undergone every day in order to provide him with whatever he required.

During this story, Virginie tried to make Auguste keep quiet by saying:

"That isn't true; he makes too much of it; don't believe him, Bertrand.

Anyhow, if I did do all that, it must have been because I enjoyed it."

But Bertrand, who could not listen unmoved to Auguste's narrative, ran to Virginie, took her in his arms and kissed her, saying:

"That was fine! that was mighty fine!"

"Yes, but you are squeezing me too tight, Bertrand."

Melancholy thoughts gave place to thoughts of happiness. Auguste no longer sighed when he thought of Denise. He was already longing to be with her, he burned to see her again, to requite her love; for after all that Virginie had told him he could no longer doubt the village maiden's heart. But he was unable to go to Montfermeil at once; however, as happiness is a great restorer of health, after two days pa.s.sed in forming delightful plans for the future, Auguste was in condition to go out.

Before going to the village, where he expected to stay for some time, Auguste put his affairs in order. He went to his old notary and instructed him to invest his funds, keeping back only so much as was necessary for the execution of his plans. He intended to a.s.sure Virginie's future; since she was no longer as young as she had once been, she was anxious to carry on a little business. Auguste hired a pretty shop for her and stocked it with embroideries and novelties, and Virginie became a dealer in small wares. She proudly took her seat behind her counter, after having a sign put over her door: _A la Pucelle_; and she swore to Auguste that she proposed thenceforth to devote herself exclusively to her business.

Auguste received Virginie's thanks and her kindest regards for Denise, whom she did not propose to visit until her new line of conduct had covered her former aberrations with oblivion. He was on the point of starting for Montfermeil with Bertrand, when Virginie exclaimed: