“Cheer up! I do not ask you to unveil this sad secret to me, since it is not your own. Come, good-bye, my honest fellow. After all, I am very glad that our dispute was judged by you.”
“Monseigneur,” said Peyrou, who seemed to wish to escape from the recollections awakened by the baron’s questions about the commander, “it was rumoured that you would not come before the tribunal.”
“Yes, at first I resolved not to go there. Talebard-Talebardon could have come to an amicable settlement; in the first moment of anger I thought of sending all of you to the devil.
“Monseigneur, it was not the consul only who decided to bring the case before us.”
“I thought so, and for that reason I reconsidered it; instead of acting like a fool, I have acted with the wisdom of a graybeard. It was that scoundrel from the admiralty of Toulon that I whipped, was it not?”
“They say so, monseigneur.”
“You were right, Honorât,” said the baron, turning around to M. de Berrol. “Come, we shall see you soon, Peyrou.”
Upon going out of the large hall, the baron saw his carriage, which was drawn up in the town hall square, surrounded by the crowd.
They saluted him with acclamation and he was deeply moved by this reception.
Just as he was about to enter the carriage he saw Master Isnard, the recorder, standing within the embrasure of a door.