The last exclamation was wrung from me by the satisfaction I felt at being once more on terra firma.
We had landed in the little creek that lies between Saint-Nazaire and le Croisic, a league and a half nearly from either of these two towns. So I had my choice. But le Croisic was a league and a half out of my way, while Saint-Nazaire, on the other hand, was just so much nearer. There was no need for hesitation, and I decided immediately upon Saint-Nazaire. As to the pilot, he remained with his skiff. The wind was whistling as harshly as upon the Elsinore stage just when the ghost of the King of Denmark is to appear. I had only one way of warming myself, which was to keep moving as hard as I could. I held out five francs to the pilot, instead of three as I had promised him, and with bare head, my hands tucked into my pockets, with not a rag on me dry, soaked with that delightful sea-water which never does dry, I set off at a quick trot to follow the coast-line. I reached Saint-Nazaire an hour later, and knocked at the door of the only inn of the place, which made all kinds of difficulties in the way of opening its doors and receiving, at eleven o'clock at night, a man without a hat. The dialogue that took place with a view to my gaining an entrance being prolonged endlessly, and not promising to end to my satisfaction, I conceived the idea of throwing a five-franc piece through the window on the first storey, out of which the landlord was leaning to talk to me. The host would then be certain of payment for my bed. The coin rang on the wooden floor of the room, and the innkeeper picked it up, lit a lamp, and, making sure that my money was good metal, decided to let me in. Ten minutes later I stood quite naked in front of an immense fire of heather, which roasted me without warming me thoroughly; but I was so delighted to feel the earth under my feet that I forgot all about the extreme cold I had suffered, and paid no attention to the other extreme of heat. The host had now grown as amiable as at first he had been crusty. He offered me a shirt of his own, which I accepted; warmed my bed himself, and carried my clothes away to be baked in the oven. He had been baking bread and flat cakes that day, and the oven was still warm. My cast-off garments were put in it on an iron oven-plate, and, thanks to this idea, I found my clothes were as dry next day as tinder. At eleven o'clock I was back at Paimbœuf, by night I was at Nantes, and the next day I reached Tours, where I duly delivered to Madame M—— her daughter's messages.
The same day, I found a disengaged place in the mail coach and engaged it. I was sick of the Carlist language that I had heard for six weeks and wanted to see my July sunshine once more and my revolutionary Paris and my buildings all riddled with shot. When I arrived, it was pouring in torrents; M. Guizot had become Prime Minister and they were scraping the front of the Institut!
[BOOK V]
[CHAPTER I]
Confidential letter from Louis-Philippe to the Emperor Nicholas—The Czar's reply—What France could do after the Revolution of July—Louis-Philippe and Ferdinand VII.—The Spanish refugees—Reaction in the Home department—Scraping of the public monuments—Protest