"Roustan's?" inquired Olivier.
"No, no, gentlemen, not theirs, but Bû-û-onaparte's. Still, no matter about that. What I was going to say was that when the Holy Father was about to crown him, what did that Corsican ogre you are so fond of do—like the low common grocer that he was—but grab the crown from the hands of the poor Holy Father and put it on his head with one hand, while with the other he gave the Holy Father a sound rap on the skull, as if to say to the French people: 'Down with religion, the clergy, and all! It is only to me you must bow the knee.' It was such a blow that he gave the poor Holy Father that he reeled and fell headlong on the steps of the altar with his cap down over his eyes, and there he gave thanks in Latin, that angel of a man! This goes to prove, M. Olivier," added the housekeeper, as a sort of conclusion and moral, "that marriage only renders Corsican ogres still more ferocious, while I am sure your and M. Gerald's marriage to such dear girls as your sweethearts must be will only make you still more kind and amiable."
And the worthy woman hurried off to bring the coffee and serve it while Commander Bernard filled his big Kummer pipe.
The hilarity caused by Madame Barbançon's story soon gave place to graver and nobler thoughts.
"In spite of her peculiarities, this good woman is right in reminding us that our marriage ought to increase whatever good we have in us," remarked Gerald. "I hardly see how it can fail to do so, do you, Olivier?"
Then perceiving that his friend had fallen into a sort of reverie, Gerald laid a hand affectionately on his shoulder and asked:
"What are you thinking about, Olivier?"
"I was thinking, my dear Gerald, that it was while we were seated at this table, just six months ago, that I spoke to you for the first time about the charming girl everybody here called the duchess, and that you replied: 'Duchesses, don't talk to me of duchesses. I've had enough of them!' and now, thanks to you, she is a real duchess, the Duchesse de Senneterre. How strangely things come about in this world of ours!"
"You are right, my dear boys," said the old naval officer, "and when the present is all that one can desire, it is very pleasant to look back upon the past. Six months ago, for example, who would have guessed that my brave Olivier would now be on the eve of marrying a dear, sweet girl who had saved my life at the risk of her own?"
"And who ever would have supposed that the Mlle. de Beaumesnil we talked so much about, and upon whom I had matrimonial designs myself, would ever have fallen in love with Olivier?" added Gerald, with a keen look at his friend.