"That is true, my friend; I thought so myself an hour ago; but I have no hatred for a corpse."
"Very good, monsieur," said Adamas, "I have an idea which will make everything all right; if we retrace our steps, we shall find within a hundred yards, near the Chambon meadow, the gardener's cottage."
"What gardener? Marie la Caille-Bottée?"
"She is very devoted to monsieur, and they say that she was not always pock-marked."
"Tush, tush! Adamas, this is no time for jesting!"
"I am not jesting, monsieur, and I say that that old woman will keep our secret faithfully."
"And you propose to disturb her peace of mind by carrying a dead man to her? She will die of fright!"
"No, monsieur, for she is not alone in her little isolated cottage. I will take my oath that we shall find a good Carmelite there, who will give the Spanish gentleman Christian burial in a grave somewhere on the gardener's premises."
"You are too much of a Huguenot, Adamas," said Monsieur d'Ars. "The Carmelites are not such dissolute fellows as you imply."
"I say no evil of them, messire; I am speaking of a single one, whom I know, and who has nothing of the monk except the frock and the paternosters. It is Jean le Clope, who followed monsieur le marquis to the war, and for whom monsieur le marquis procured admission to the convent as a disabled veteran."