“I haven’t any beard,” retorted Edouard, starting up, “but just the same if I was strong enough to carry the boar, I’d go fetch it myself either by day or night.”
“Much good may it do you, my young gentleman. But neither my comrade nor myself would go, even for a whole louis.”
“Nor for two?” said Roland, wishing to corner them.
“Nor for two, nor four, nor ten, Monsieur de Montrevel. Ten louis are good, but what could I do with them if my neck was broken?”
“Yes, twisted like Pierre Marey’s,” said the other peasant.
“Ten louis wouldn’t feed my wife and children for the rest of my life, would they?”
“And besides, when you say ten louis,” interrupted the second peasant, “you mean really five, because I’d get five, too.”
“So the pavilion is haunted by ghosts, is it?” asked Roland.
“I didn’t say the pavilion—I’m not sure about the pavilion—but in the Chartreuse—”
“In the Chartreuse, are you sure?”