“Look at me!” said he; “look at me! That is the way to learn. Do as I do, and I will correct you.”
Pitou made the attempt.
“Draw back your knees! Shoulders back! Hold up your head! Turn out your toes! Give yourself a good foundation; your feet are large enough.”
Pitou did as well as he could.
“Very well!” said the old man. “You look noble enough.”
Pitou felt much flattered. He had not expected so much.
If he looked noble after an hour’s drill, what would he not be in a month? He would be majestic.
He wished to continue.
But this was enough for one lesson.
Besides, Father Clovis wished to make sure of the gun before giving any more instruction.
“No,” said he, “this is enough for once. Teach this at your first drill, and they will not learn it in four days; and in that time you will have had two lessons.”
“Four lessons!” cried Pitou.
“Ah!” replied Clovis, dryly, “I see you have zeal and legs enough. Well, four times be it. I must, however, tell you that there will be no moon.”
“We will go through the manual in your hut, then.”
“You will have to bring a candle.”
“Two pounds of candles, if you please.”
“Good! and the gun?”
“You shall have it to-morrow.”
“All right. Now let me see if you recollect what I told you.”
Pitou behaved so well that Clovis complimented him. He would have promised Clovis a six-pounder if he had asked for one.
When they had finished, it lacked but an hour of daylight, and he took leave of his teacher, going at a brisk pace towards Haramont, the whole population of which slept soundly.
Pitou sank to sleep, and dreamed that he commanded an army of many millions of men, and waged war on the whole world, his army obeying, in one rank, the word of command, “Carry arms!”
On the next day he drilled his soldiers with an insolence which they esteemed proof positive of his capacity.
Pitou became popular, and was admired by men, women, and children.
The women even became serious, when, in stentorian tones he cried out:—
“Be a soldier! look at me.”
He was a soldier.
Chapter XXXVIII
Catherine becomes a Diplomatist
OLD Clovis had his gun; for what Pitou promised he did.
In ten visits Pitou became a perfect grenadier. But, unfortunately, when Clovis had taught him the manual, he had taught all he knew.
Pitou bought a copy of the “French Tactician,” and of the “Manual of the National Guard,” in which he expended a crown.
The Haramont battalion made, thanks to Pitou, very rapid progress. When he had reached the more complicated manæuvres, he went to Soissons, where in one hour, from observing real soldiers drilled by real officers, he learned in one day more than his books would have taught him in a month.
He thus toiled for two months.
Pitou was ambitious and in love. Pitou was unfortunate in his love. Often after his drill, which always followed midnight study, had Pitou crossed the plains of Largny, and now and then the whole forest, to watch Catherine, who always kept her appointment at Boursonne.
Catherine used every day to steal away from her household duty to a little cot near the warren of Boursonne, to meet her beloved Isidore, who seemed always happy and joyous, even though everything around seemed dark.
How great was Pitou’s unhappiness when he remembered how unequal a share of happiness was vouchsafed to different men!
He on whom the girls of Haramont, Taillefontaine, and Vivières looked with favor, who also might have had his rendezvous, was yet forced to weep, like a child, before the closed door of Monsieur Isidore’s pavilion.
Pitou loved Catherine the more devotedly because he saw that she was his superior. He also knew that she loved another; and though he ceased to be jealous of Isidore, who was noble, handsome, and worthy of love, Catherine, at least, sprung from the people, should not disgrace her family nor make him unhappy.
When he thought, therefore, he suffered very deeply.
“It was heartless,” said he, “to suffer me to go. When I did so, she never asked if I was dead or alive. What would Billot say if he knew his friends were treated thus, and his business thus neglected? What would he say if he knew that the housekeeper, instead of attending to his business, was making love with the aristocratic Monsieur de Charny? He would say nothing, but would kill Catherine.