As I said before, from whence came the sad shade of a man?
It is Théophraste. He has resolved to fly-no matter where-far from his wife.
After a night passed from gutter to gutter, not knowing where to direct his steps, and not caring at all, he goes into a railway station. He gets into a train without a ticket, gets out of the train at another station.
How often does it happen that the control registers of railway stations are badly made on account of the number of travelers.
Behold him, then, on the road at the entrance of a village which follows the railroad track. And who is it that watches him as he crosses the threshold of a little house at the entrance of a village?
Mme. Petito herself!
It was the first time that Mme. Petito had seen M. Longuet since he cut off the ears of her husband. Upon seeing him, Mme. Petito became highly indignant, and commenced upbraiding Théophraste.
After all sorts of imprecations-the result of the barbarity of Théophraste-Mme. Petito informed Théophraste that Signor Petito had found the treasures of the Chopinettes, that he had put them in a safe place, and that the treasures were the richest on earth, treasures which were worth more than two ears. They were as good as the ears of Signor Petito, and so they were quits.
Théophraste, in the course of this discourse, found it difficult to say very much, but this did not disturb him. He was glad of the anger of Mme. Petito, for having furnished him with such valuable information, and he said: “I have found my treasures, for I have found Signor Petito again.”
Mme. Petito burst into satanic laughter.