'Ah! no, one is never satisfied,' Fernand slowly resumed; 'even you are not over-pleased with things, Monsieur Froment, in spite of all you know.'
Marc detected in those words some of the jeering contempt for knowledge which was to be expected from a hard-headed, sleepy dunce who in his school-days had found it difficult to remember a single lesson. Moreover, Fernand's remark embodied a prudent allusion to the events which were upsetting the whole region, and Marc availed himself of this circumstance to inquire into his former pupil's views.
'Oh! I am always pleased when my boys learn their lessons fairly well, and don't tell too many stories,' he said gaily. 'You know that very well; just remember.... Besides, I received to-day some good news about the affair to which I have been attending so long. Yes, the innocence of my poor friend Simon is about to be recognised for good.'
At this Fernand manifested great embarrassment, his countenance became heavier, and the light in his eyes died away. 'But that's not what some folk say,' he remarked.
'What do they say, then?'
'They say that the judges have found out more things about the old schoolmaster.'
'What things are those?'
'Oh, all sorts, it seems.'
At last Fernand consented to explain himself, and started on a ridiculous yarn. The Jews, said he, had given a big sum of money, five millions of francs, to their co-religionist Simon in order that he might get a Brother of the Christian Doctrine guillotined. Simon having failed in his plan, the five millions were lying in a hiding-place, and the Jews were now striving to get Brother Gorgias sent to the galleys—even if in doing so they should drown France in blood—in order that Simon might return and dig up the treasure, the hiding-place of which was known only to himself.
'Come, my lad,' Marc answered, quite aghast, 'surely you don't believe such absurdity!'