"I tell you what is the general custom here, my good man; but so compassionate a person as our master might go any lengths to serve you."
"Do you really think so?" said the Schoolmaster. "Oh, if he would but permit me to remain here, I could live in any retired corner, and be happy and grateful for such a mere trifle of subsistence!"
"As I said before, our master is capable of the most generous actions. But, were he to consent to your remaining at the farm, there would be no occasion for you to hide yourself; you would fare in every respect as you have seen us treated to-day. Some occupation would be found for your son suitable to his age and strength. He would not want for good instruction or wise counsels; our venerable minister would teach him with the other children of the village, and, in the words of Scripture, he would grow in goodness and in stature beneath the pious care of our excellent curé. But the best way for you to manage this will be to lay every particular of your case and petition before our 'Lady of Ready Help,' when she comes into the kitchen, as she is sure to do before you start on your journey to-morrow morning."
"What name did you call your lady by?"
"Nay, I meant our mistress, who always goes by that appellation amongst us. If she interests herself for you, your suit will be granted; for, in matters of charity, our master never opposes her smallest wish."
"Oh, then," exclaimed the Schoolmaster, in a joyous tone, already exulting in his hoped-for deliverance from the power of the Chouette, "I will thankfully follow your advice, and speak to her whenever I have the blessed opportunity!"
This hope found no echo in the mind of Tortillard, who felt not the slightest disposition to avail himself of the offers of the old labourer, and grow up in goodness under the auspices of the venerable curé. The inclinations of Bras Rouge's son were anything but rural, neither did his turn of mind incline to the pastoral. Faithful to the code of morality professed by the Chouette, and promulgated by her, he would have been severely distressed to see the Schoolmaster emancipate himself from their united tyranny; and he now thought it high time to recall the brigand from the illusory visions of flowery meads and all the et cœteras of a country life, in which his fancy seemed revelling, to the realities of his present position.
"Yes, oh, yes," repeated the Schoolmaster; "I will assuredly address my prayers to your 'Lady of Ready Help.' She will pity me and kindly—"
Tortillard here interrupted him by a vigorous and artfully managed kick, so well directed, that, as before, it took the direst effect on the most sensitive spot. The intense agony for a time quite bereft the brigand of speech or breath; but remembering the fatal consequences of giving way to the feelings which boiled within him, he struggled for self-command, and, after a pause of a few minutes, added, in a faint and suffering voice, "Yes, I venture to hope your good mistress would pity and befriend me."
"Dear father," said Tortillard, in a hypocritical tone, "you forget my poor dear aunt, Madame la Chouette, who is so fond of you. Poor Aunty Chouette, she would never part with you so easily, I know. Directly she heard of your staying here, she would come along with M. Barbillon and fetch you away—that she would, I know."