Ange Pitou by Alexandre Dumas part two

And indeed the young man, although it was not five minutes since his father had been speaking to him, although Billot had scarcely shut the door after him, had fallen into a reverie which seemed closely allied to ecstasy.

“Is he often thus?” anxiously inquired Gilbert.

“Sir, I could almost say that this is his habitual state; only see how deeply he is meditating.”

“You are right, sir; and when you observe him in this state, you should endeavor to divert his thoughts.”

“And yet it would be a pity, for the results of these meditations are compositions which will one day do great honor to the College Louis-le-Grand. I predict that in three years from this time that youth yonder will bear off all the prizes at our examination.”

“Take care!” replied the doctor; “this species of absorption of thought, in which you see Sebastien now plunged, is rather a proof of weakness than of strength, a symptom rather of malady than of health. You are right, Monsieur Principal; it will not do to recommend assiduous application to that child; or, at least, we must know how to distinguish study from such a state of reverie.”

“Sir, I can assure you that he is studying.”

“What, as we see him now?”

“Yes; and the proof is that his task is always finished before that of the other scholars. Do you see how his lips move? He is repeating his lessons.”

“Well, then, whenever he is repeating his lessons in this manner, Monsieur Bérardier, divert his attention from them. He will not know his lessons the worse for it, and his health will be better for it.”

“Do you think so?”

“I am sure of it.”

“Well,” cried the good abbé, “you ought to understand these matters,—you, whom Messieurs de Condorcet and Cabanis proclaim to be one of the most learned men now existing in the world.”

“Only,” rejoined Gilbert, “when you wish to draw him out of such reveries, you must do it with much precaution. Speak to him very softly in the first instance, and then louder.”

“And why so?”

“To bring him gradually back to this world, which his mind has left.”

The abbé looked at the doctor with astonishment. It would not have required much to make him believe that he was mad.

“Observe,” continued the doctor; “you shall see the proof of what I am saying to you.”

Billot and Pitou entered the room at this moment. In three strides Pitou was at the side of the dreaming youth.

“You asked for me, Sebastien,” said Pitou to him; “that was very kind of you.”

And he placed his large head close to the pale face of the young lad.

“Look!” said Gilbert, seizing the abbé’s arm.

And indeed Sebastien, thus abruptly aroused from his reverie by the cordial affection of Pitou, staggered, his pale face became livid, his head fell on one side, as if his neck had not sufficient strength to support it, a painful sigh escaped his breast, and then the blood again rushed to his face.

He shook his head and smiled.

“Ah, it is you, Pitou. Yes; that is true: I asked for you.”

And then, looking at him:—

“You have been fighting, then?”

“Yes, and like a brave lad, too,” said Billot.

“Why did you not take me with you?” said the child, in a reproachful tone. “I would have fought also, and then I should at least have done something for my father.”

“Sebastien,” said Gilbert, going to his son, and pressing his head to his breast, “you can do much more for your father than to fight for him; you can listen to his advice, and follow it,—become a distinguished and celebrated man.”

“As you are?” said the boy, with proud emotion. “Oh, it is that which I aspire to.”

“Sebastien,” said the doctor, “now that you have embraced both Billot and Pitou, our good friends, will you come into the garden with me for a few minutes, that we may have a little talk together?”

“With great delight, Father. Only two or three times in my whole life have I been alone with you, and those moments, with all their details, are always present in my memory.”

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