But this music delighted him so intensely, that he actually forgot to eat, and, with hanging lip and half-closed eyes, rocked himself to and fro, keeping time with the measure.
“They look hideous!” M. Folgat could not keep from whispering. In the meantime Goudar, warned by the preconcerted signal, had finished his song. He bent over, and drew from under the bench an enormous bottle, from which he seemed to draw a considerable quantity of something pleasant.
Then he passed it to Cocoleu, who likewise began to pull, eagerly and long, and with an expression of idiotic beatitude. Then patting his stomach with his hands, he said,—
“That’s—that’s—that’s—good!”
M. Daubigeon whispered into Dr. Seignebos’s ear,—
“Ah, I begin to see! I notice from Cocoleu’s eyes, that this practice with the bottle must have been going on for some time already. Cocoleu is drunk.”
Goudar again took up his violin and repeated his song.
“I—I—want—want to—to drink!” stammered Cocoleu.
Goudar kept him waiting a little while, and then handed him the bottle. The idiot threw back his head, and drank till he had lost his breath. Then Goudar asked,—
“Ah! you did not have such good wine to drink at Valpinson?”