He left her, however, and repaired at once to the cure’s house, which stood near the chateau, a little behind the church.
The servant showed him into a small garden separated by a low wall from the cemetery. He found the Abbe Pernot seated on a stone bench, sheltered by a trellised vine. He was occupied in cutting up pieces of hazel-nuts to make traps for small birds.
“Good-evening, Claudet!” said the cure, without moving from his work; “you find me busy preparing my nets; if you will permit me, I will continue, for I should like to have my two hundred traps finished by this evening. The season is advancing, you know! The birds will begin their migrations, and I should be greatly provoked if I were not equipped in time for the opportune moment. And how is Monsieur de Buxieres? I trust he will not be less good-natured than his deceased cousin, and that he will allow me to spread my snares on the border hedge of his woods. But,” added he, as he noticed the flurried, impatient countenance of his visitor, “I forgot to ask you, my dear young fellow, to what happy chance I owe your visit? Excuse my neglect!”
“Don’t mention it, Monsieur le Cure. You have guessed rightly. It is a very happy circumstance which brings me. I am about to marry.”
“Aha!” laughed the Abbe, “I congratulate you, my dear young friend. This is really delightful news. It is not good for man to be alone, and I am glad to know you must give up the perilous life of a bachelor. Well, tell me quickly the name of your betrothed. Do I know her?”
“Of course you do, Monsieur le Cure; there are few you know so well. It is Mademoiselle Vincart.”
“Reine?”
The Abbe flung away the pruning-knife and branch that he was cutting, and gazed at Claudet with a stupefied air. At the same time, his jovial face became shadowed, and his mouth assumed an expression of consternation.
“Yes, indeed, Reine Vincart,” repeated Claudet, somewhat vexed at the startled manner of his reverence; “are you surprised at my choice?”
“Excuse me-and-is it all settled?” stammered the Abbe, with bewilderment, “and—and do you really love each other?”