“My children, we have passed many years together; most of you I have seen grow up under my eyes; others have been my friends. You know that I have done for you all it was in my power to do; I have never spared trouble to be of service to you, nor care, nor my small fortune, the fruit of my father’s hard toil! Henceforth the universe claims me; I owe myself to humanity; let us part good friends, and think sometimes of Frantz Mathéus, who has loved you so well!”
Tears choked his utterance as he pronounced these last words, and he had to be assisted to his horse, so greatly was the good man affected.
Everybody wept, and regretted this excellent physician—the father of the poor, the consoler of the unfortunate. They watched him slowly going away, his head buried between his hands; nobody spoke a word or uttered a cry, for fear of adding to his sorrow, and all felt that they were suffering an irreparable loss.
Coucou Peter, with his hat cocked upon his ear, and his bag over his shoulder, followed the doctor, looking as proud as a cock. Now and then he turned, and seemed to say, “I laugh at all of you now! I’m a prophet!—the prophet Coucou Peter—with an off, and an off, and an off we go!”
CHAPTER V
To see Frantz Mathéus and his disciple descending the narrow path of the Steinbach, through the tall firs, no one would ever have thought that those two extraordinary men were on their way to conquer the world. It is true that the illustrious philosopher, gravely bestriding Bruno, with head erect and pendent legs, had something majestic in his appearance; but Coucou Peter did not in the least look like a real prophet. His jovial countenance, fat stomach, and his cock’s feather, gave him rather the aspect of a jolly drinking companion, who cultivated deplorable prejudices in favour of good cheer, and thought not at all of the disastrous consequences of his physical appetites.
This remark did not inspire Mathéus with any very serious reflections, but he proposed to himself, by putting his follower under a psychologico-anthropo-zoological regime, by inducing moderation, and, in short, by penetrating him with the leading principles of his doctrine, to bring him into a more desirable physical condition.
Coucou Peter looked at the matter from quite another point of view.
“Won’t people be surprised to see me a prophet!” he said to himself. “Ha! ha! ha! the droll dog is always up to something! What the devil is he up to now, preaching about this transformation of bodies and peregrination of souls? What’s the meaning of it? The Strasbourg Almanack, next year, will take notice of it! They’ll draw me on the first page with my violin, and underneath, in large letters, that every one will be able to read, ‘Coucou Peter, son of Yokel Peter, of Lutzelstein, who set out to convert the universe.’ Ha! ha! ha!—you’ll make a good thing out of it, my jolly prophet! Eat enough for four, drink enough for six, and preach temperance to everybody else! And, who knows?—when you grow old you may become chief rabbi of the peregrination of souls, sleep in a feather-bed, let your beard grow, and clap spectacles on your nose! You cunning rascal, I should never have thought of your laying hold of so good a place!”