It appeared to him that it would be giving pain to his poor mother to tear off a branch from a tree, the roots of which perhaps were entwined round the decaying deal coffin in which her remains reposed.
He again kissed the ground, took Sebastien by the hand, and left the cemetery.
All the inhabitants of the village were either in the fields or in the woods. Few persons, therefore, had seen Pitou; and disguised as he was by his helmet and his long sabre, among those persons no one had recognized him.
He therefore took the road to Villers-Cotterets,—a delightful road which runs through the forest for nearly three quarters of a league,—without meeting any living or animated object to divert his grief.
Sebastien followed, mute and pensive as himself.
They arrived at Villers-Cotterets at about five in the afternoon.
Chapter XXVIII
How Pitou, after having been cursed and turned out of doors by his Aunt on account of a Barbarism and three Solecisms, was again cursed and turned out by her on account of a fowl cooked with rice
PITOU arrived at Villers-Cotterets by that part of the park which is called the Pheasantry. He walked across the dancing place, always abandoned during the week, and to which he had three weeks previously conducted Catherine.
What a number of things had happened to Pitou and to France during those three weeks!
Then, having followed the long avenue of chestnuttrees, he reached the square before the château, and knocked at the back door of the college presided over by the Abbé Fortier.
It was full three years since Pitou had left Haramont, while it was only three weeks since he had left Villers-Cotterets. It was therefore very natural that he should not have been recognized at Haramont, and that he should have been recognized at Villers-Cotterets.
In a moment a rumor ran through the town that Pitou had returned there with young Sebastien Gilbert; that both of them had gone into the house of the Abbé Fortier; that Sebastien looked much the same as when he had left them, but that Pitou had a helmet and a long sword.
The result of this was that a great crowd had assembled at the principal gate; for they calculated that if Pitou had gone into the chateau by the small private door, he would come out of it by the great gate in the Rue de Soissons.
This was his direct road for going to Pleux.
In fact, Pitou remained at the Abbé Fortier’s only long enough to deliver into the hands of the abbé’s sister the letter from the doctor, the young lad himself, and five double louis destined to pay his board.
The Abbé Fortier’s sister was at first much terrified when she saw so formidable a soldier advancing through the garden; but soon, beneath the dragoon’s helmet, she recognized the placid and honest face of Pitou, which somewhat tranquillized her.
And finally, the sight of the five double louis reassured her altogether.
This terror of the poor old maid can be the more readily explained, by informing our readers that the Abbé Fortier had gone out with his pupils to give them a walk, and that she was quite alone in the house.
Pitou, after having delivered the letter and the five double louis, embraced Sebastien, and left the house, clapping his helmet on his head with due military bravado.
Sebastien had shed some tears on separating from Pitou, although the separation was not to be of long duration, and notwithstanding that his society was not exceedingly amusing; but his hilarity, his mildness, his continued obligingness, had touched the heart of young Gilbert. Pitou had the disposition of those fine great Newfoundland dogs, who sometimes fatigue you very much, but who in the end disarm your anger by licking your hand.
There was one thing which diminished Sebastien’s grief, which was that Pitou promised that he would often go to see him. One thing diminished Pitou’s regret, and this was that Sebastien thanked him for his promise.
But now let us for a while follow our hero from the house of the Abbé Fortier to that of his Aunt Angélique, situated, as our readers already know, at the farther end of Pleux.