“Look.” And Bussy turned round for the young surgeon to take off the bandage. All looked well; the wound was nearly closed. Bussy, quite happy, had slept well, and sleep and happiness had aided the doctor.
“Well,” said Bussy, “what do you say?”
“I dare not tell you that you are nearly well, for fear you should send me back to the Rue Beauheillis, five hundred paces from the famous house.”
“Which we will find, will we not, Rémy?”
“I should think so.”
“Well, my friend, look on yourself as one of the house, and to-day, while you move your things, let me go to the fête of the installation of the new chief huntsman.”
“Ah! you want to commit follies already.”
“No, I promise to be very reasonable.”
“But you must ride.”
“It is necessary.”