At midnight we caught sight of the first houses in Montmorency. Raymond gave a joyful cry, whereat his donkey was frightened and jumped, throwing its rider off into a muddy path, where he lost his shoes. As we were a little ahead, Raymond was obliged to pick himself up una.s.sisted; the fear of losing us lent him strength, but his steed did not wait for him, and he ended his journey running after the beast, which he caught on the square just as we were dismounting. All the people of the inn had gone to bed, but we knocked until they answered. They were surprised that travellers should arrive so late; they would be far more surprised, I thought, when they saw the condition we were in, especially Raymond, whose last fall had plastered him with mud from head to foot. They admitted us, however, but, as I had foreseen, they were taken aback by our appearance. But I soon succeeded in telling my story. The landlord, seeing that he had to do with people of standing, apologized to us and hastened to show us to our rooms. They gave a room to our groom; the horse was taken to the stable, and the peasant went home with his donkeys.

I ordered a brisk fire made, to dry our clothes, and requested the host to serve whatever he had ready, for our misadventures had not taken away our appet.i.tes. We were served with a chicken, ham, salad, and fruit.

While I took my place at the table, Raymond went into his bedroom, where he ordered another fire lighted, and asked the girl who waited on us to come to rub his back, so that he might avoid an illness. She was a robust peasant of some twenty years, not of the type to be afraid of a man. Still, Raymond's proposition struck her as rather peculiar; she looked at him with a smile and seemed to hesitate.

"Go with him," I said to her, "and don't be afraid; monsieur is thinking of nothing but his health, and I'll answer for his behavior."

While my companion was being rubbed, I did justice to the supper, and dried myself thoroughly in front of the fire. The bedroom door was not closed, and I could hear Raymond urging the servant on and complimenting her on her skill. The buxom damsel must have been tired, she had rubbed him so long, but Raymond seemed to enjoy it. Soon I concluded that the fire and the servant's ministrations had entirely restored my friend's animation, for he began to be enterprising, and I heard the girl exclaim that she would not stand it. And I had answered for his behavior! How can you trust anyone?

But the noise continued in the adjoining room; and at last the girl fled into the room where I was, roaring with laughter, and pursued by Monsieur Raymond in shirt and drawers and a pair of the innkeeper's slippers.

"Won't you keep quiet the rest of the night, Monsieur Raymond? Am I to have no peace with you?" said I.

"Oh! what eyes, my friend! Ah! the hussy, if she would!"

"Yes, but the trouble is I won't, Monsieur Insolent!"

"Come, Raymond, let the girl go to bed; it's late and this is no time to rouse the whole inn. I've no desire to get into any more trouble for your lovely eyes.--Leave us, my girl! we don't want anything more."

"I say, my dear, where's your room; do tell me where it is?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Tell me, all the same, you sly minx, and you won't be sorry."

"Well, I sleep upstairs, at the end of the hall."

"Good; I understand."

The servant left us, and Raymond sat down at the table.

"I trust," said I, "that you don't propose to run after that girl? She's fooling you."

"No, no! I was joking, that's all. She's as solid as a rock!"

"She ought to know whether you are or not, for she rubbed you long enough."

"Yes, indeed; the hussy knows!"

"It doesn't seem to have disposed her in your favor."

"Bah! didn't she tell me where her room was?"

"Don't you trust her."

"Oh! I've no desire to go after her, as you can imagine; but, one thing is sure, and that is, that if I chose, I should have everything my own way."

"I don't believe it."

"Do you want to bet?"

"No; because you would indulge in some pleasant little performance which would make my night as agreeable as my evening has been; and I confess that I've had enough of that sort of thing for to-day. Good-night, Monsieur Raymond! I am going to bed, and I advise you to do the same."

"Yes, neighbor, yes, I'll do the same. Sleep well. Your servant!"

Raymond took his candle with an offended air and went to his room, locking the door behind him. I laughed at the crazy fellow's pretensions and folly, and got into bed, where I soon fell asleep. A noise, the nature of which I could not determine, soon woke me. I listened, and called to Raymond, to find out if he were ill; he did not answer, and I heard nothing more, so I went to sleep again. I did not wake until eight o'clock; the sun was shining brightly into my room, indicating a lovely day. As I was at Montmorency, although against my will, I would at all events enjoy the delightful walks in the neighborhood and have a taste of the pleasures of the country before returning to Paris. Our cabriolet could not be repaired as yet, and we should have to wait for it.

While I was dressing, I called to Raymond and asked him if he wanted to take a walk before breakfast. He did not answer; apparently he was still asleep. But his door was ajar, and I seemed to remember that he had closed it the night before. I entered, and called him again:

"Come, come, lazybones! it's late; wake up!"

No answer. I looked at his bed: he was not there. So he had risen earlier than I and gone out before me. I was turning away, when I saw Raymond's coat, waistcoat, and breeches spread out on chairs, where he had put them to dry. What! he had gone out without coat or breeches?

that was very strange! Thereupon, I remembered my neighbor's schemes, his dallying with the servant, and the wager he proposed when he was eating his supper. My uncertainty was at an end: Monsieur Raymond had set out to prove to me that he was not to be resisted; he had gone to lie with the stout damsel who had wiped him and rubbed him so thoroughly. But inn servants do not stay in bed until eight o'clock; the girl must have been up long before. Why had Raymond not returned to his bed? Did he want the whole household to know where he had pa.s.sed the night? I did not see the point of that very clearly; however, I determined to ascertain the fact. I called and rang; the same servant appeared; her aspect was unchanged; she had a smile on her lips, her big eyes were wide open, and her manner alert and determined. She had anything but a bashful air; I supposed that she was probably accustomed to nocturnal visits. I looked at her and laughed.

"Did you call, monsieur?"

"Yes, my child."

"What can I do for you?"

"How is our groom?"

"Oh! he's all right, monsieur; they've put a compress on his foot."

"And the carriage?"

"That don't amount to much--only a matter of a couple of hours. But the man who owns the vineyard where you upset followed after the blacksmith; he wants his pay for the damage you did on his land; he says you pulled up more'n a dozen vines."

"Good! we have got to pay him because we nearly killed ourselves on his poles; let him have a hundred sous.--By the way, my la.s.s, tell me now what you've done with my friend?"

"With your friend?"

"Yes; the gentleman who came with me."

"Oh! the man that lost his shoes, and that I had to rub so long!"

"Exactly."

"Pardi! I haven't done anything with him, and I wouldn't have anything to do with him, although he was after me like a thirsty dog! Mon Dieu!

what a fellow!"

"It's no use to pretend, my dear; he slept with you; I don't see any harm in that, but where in the devil is he now?"

"What's that you say? he slept with me? Bless my soul! that's a good one! It's a lie, d'ye hear! I don't sleep with anybody that don't suit me, and your big baby didn't suit me at all. Has he got the face to say that? Ah! I'd tear his eyes out if I heard him!"

"It seems to me that when you tell him where your room is, you shouldn't make so much noise because of what I've said to you."

"My room! I told him where my room was! Good Lord! do you mean to tell me---- Ha! ha! ha!"