This ingenious design made the good man smile; he pictured to himself Maître Claude’s stupefaction in thinking to catch the hare in its form when it was already trotting far away over the mountain.
Hastily he put on a pair of new woollen stockings, his big brown overcoat, and his heavy riding-boots, furnished with spurs like clock-wheels; then he put on his wide-brimmed hat, which gave him a venerable appearance, and opened his door with infinite caution. But, in crossing the kitchen, he fortunately recollected the Anthropo-Zoology, and returned in haste to put the synopsis in his pocket.
The illustrious Doctor regretted not being able to take with him the sixteen quarto volumes, but he carried in his head all the developments of that great work, as well as the notes, corollaries, references, and a mass of unpublished and curious observations, the results of his later studies.
At last, after a farewell look at his cherished library, he stole, all in a tremble, into the stable, like a captive escaping from the hands of infidels.
Broad daylight already made its way in through the dull panes of a skylight, and the sight of Bruno revived his courage.
Bruno was a vigorous horse, with massive neck and shoulders, wide chest; short, solid, thick-set, with firm hocks; in a word, the worthy and robust bearer of the country Doctor.
On seeing Maître Mathéus go by on Bruno, every one might have said—
“There go the very best beast and the greatest philosopher in the country.”
Frantz Mathéus saw, by his shining and well-rounded paunch, that he had eaten his double feed of oats; therefore, without dissertation of any sort, he put on his large leathern saddle, in one of the holsters of which he placed the copy of his synopsis; then, with a precipitation which proved his great desire to escape Claude Wachtmann’s eloquence, he led his horse into the barn, raised the bar, and opened the folding-door.