'This way, youngsters!' he would say, with a smile, 'let us leave the old ones together.'
One day he almost defeated Abbé Surin in a tremendous battle at shuttlecock. He was very fond of plaguing young people, and made a special victim of Monsieur Rastoil's son, a simple young fellow, to whom he told the most prodigious stories. He ended, indeed, by accusing him of making love to his wife, and rolled his eyes about in such a terrible way, that the wretched Séverin broke out into a perspiration from very fear. The youth did, as it happened, actually fancy that he was in love with Madame de Condamin, in whose presence he behaved in a tender, simpering manner that extremely amused her husband.
The Rastoil girls, for whom the conservator of rivers and forests manifested all the gallantry of a young widower, also supplied subjects of his raillery. Although they were approaching their thirtieth birthdays, he spurred them on to indulge in childish games, and spoke to them as though they were yet schoolgirls. His great amusement was to gaze at them when Lucien Delangre, the mayor's son, was present. He would then take Doctor Porquier aside, and whisper in his ear, alluding to the former entanglement between Monsieur Delangre and Madame Rastoil:
'There's a young man there, Porquier, who is very much embarrassed in his mind——Is it Angéline or is it Aurélie whom he ought to choose? Guess, if you can, and name, if you dare.'
Meantime Abbé Faujas was very polite and amiable to all his visitors, even to the terrible Condamin who caused so much disquietude. He effaced himself as much as possible, spoke but little, and allowed the rival sets of guests to coalesce, seemingly experiencing the quiet satisfaction of a host who is happy to be the means of bringing together a number of distinguished people intended by nature to be on good terms with one another. Marthe had upon two occasions made her appearance, thinking that she would put the visitors more at their ease by doing so; but it distressed her to find the Abbé in the midst of so many people; she much preferred to see him walking slowly and seriously in the quiet of the arbour. The Trouches on their side had resumed their Tuesday watchings behind their curtains, while Madame Faujas and Rose craned their heads from the doorway and admired the graceful manner in which his reverence received the chief people of Plassans.
'Ah, madame!' said the cook, 'it is very easy to see that he is a distinguished man. Look at him bowing to the sub-prefect. I admire his reverence the most; though, indeed, the sub-prefect is a fine man. Why do you never go into the garden to them? If I were you, I would put on a silk dress and join them. You are his mother, you know, after all.'
But the old peasant woman shrugged her shoulders.
'Oh! he isn't ashamed of me,' she said; 'but I should be afraid of putting him out. I prefer to watch him from here; and I enjoy it more.'
'Yes, I can understand that. Ah! you must be very proud of him. He isn't a bit like Monsieur Mouret, who nailed the door up, so that no one might open it. We never had a visitor, there was never a dinner to be prepared for anyone, and the garden was so desolate that it made one feel quite frightened in the evenings. Monsieur Mouret would certainly never have known how to receive visitors. He always pulled a sour face if one ever happened to come by chance. Don't you think, now, that he ought to take an example from his reverence? If I were he, I should come down and amuse myself in the garden with the others, instead of shutting myself up all alone. I would take my proper place. But there he is, shut up in his room, as though he were afraid they would give him some nasty illness! By the way, shall we go up sometime and try to find out what he does?'
One Tuesday they did go upstairs together. The visitors were very merry that afternoon, and the sound of their laughter floated into the house through the open windows, while a tradesman, who had brought a hamper of wine for the Trouches, made a clatter on the second floor as he collected the empty bottles together. Mouret was securely locked up in his office.