“I will not.”
“What do you mean? you will not? Well, just as you like, my prince; there’s liberty for all the world. Come along, Danglars, and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans if he chooses.”
Danglars took advantage of Caderousse’s temper at the moment, to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte Saint-Victor, staggering as he went.
When they had advanced about twenty yards, Danglars looked back and saw Fernand stoop, pick up the crumpled paper, and putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor towards Pillon.
“Well,” said Caderousse, “why, what a lie he told! He said he was going to the Catalans, and he is going to the city. Hallo, Fernand! You are coming, my boy!”
“Oh, you don’t see straight,” said Danglars; “he’s gone right by the road to the Vieilles Infirmeries.”
“Well,” said Caderousse, “I should have sworn that he turned to the right—how treacherous wine is!”
“Come, come,” said Danglars to himself, “now the thing is at work and it will effect its purpose unassisted.”
Chapter 5. The Marriage Feast
The morning’s sun rose clear and resplendent, touching the foamy waves into a network of ruby-tinted light.