“I’m in with it! It’ll just suit me!” Then, turning to the crowd, astonished at his strange antics, he cried—“Look well at me, you there! I’m the prophet Coucou Peter! Ha! ha! ha! you don’t in the least understand the meaning of it? Nor more do I! This is my master; we’re going to preach through the universe! I shall march in front! crin-crin! crin-crin! crin-crin! A crowd assembles—we announce the peregrination of souls—the public feels flattered and—off we go! We eat well, drink well—sleep here, gad there—and off, and off, and off we go!”
He leaped, he laughed, he wriggled, in short, as if the deuce were in him.
“Papa Mathéus,” he cried, “I’m with you—I’ll never leave you any more!”
The illustrious Doctor could not believe that he was in earnest, but he was no longer left in doubt when he saw Coucou Peter mount upon his barrel and cry in a loud voice—
“This is to let you know that, instead of flying away to heaven as in the olden times, the souls of men and women return into the bodies of animals, and those of animals into plants, trees, and vegetables, according to their conduct; and that, instead of coming into the world by means of Adam and Eve, as many people say, we have first been cabbages, radishes, fishes, or other one or two legged animals—which is much simpler and easier to be believed. It is the illustrious Dr. Frantz Mathéus, my master, who has discovered these things, and you will oblige us by so informing your friends and acquaintances.”
With that, Coucou Peter came down from his barrel, waved his hat, and gravely placed himself beside Mathéus, crying, “Master, I abandon all to follow you!”
Mathéus, softened by the white wine he had drunk, shed gentle tears.
“Coucou Peter,” he cried, “I proclaim you, in the face of heaven, my first disciple! You shall be the foundation-stone of the new edifice built upon the three kingdoms of nature. Your words have found an echo in my heart; I see that you are worthy to consecrate your life to this noble cause.”
And he kissed him on both cheeks.
The peasants were all astonished at this scene; however, when they saw the fiddler putting his violin into his bag, a vague murmur arose, and, but for their respect for Frantz, they would have been very angry. The illustrious philosopher rose and said to them—