Jean, who was stronger than the two old men at Boisguilbault together, closed the door without a suspicion of curiosity, and the marquis was grateful to him for his indifference, having watched him closely and with evident uneasiness so long as he held the knob in his hand.
"There is ordinarily a small table here with my supper all served," said Monsieur de Boisguilbault. "I can't imagine what has become of it, unless Martin forgot me to-night."
"Oh! unless you forgot to wind him up the old clock in his brain has not stopped," said the carpenter, who recalled with pleasure all the details of the marquis's home-life with which he was once so familiar. "What is there behind this screen? Aha! this has a very appetizing and substantial look!" and he folded the screen, revealing a table laden with a galantine, a loaf of bread, a plate of strawberries and a bottle of Bordeaux.
"That's a dainty little supper to offer a lady, Monsieur de Boisguilbault."
"Oh! if I thought that madame would deign to accept it!" said the marquis, rolling the table toward Gilberte.
"Why not!" laughed Jean. "I'll wager that the dear soul thought of other people before thinking about the care of her own body. Come, if she will eat just a few strawberries, and you the meat, Monsieur de Boisguilbault, I'll take care of the bread and a glass of black wine."
"We will eat as all men should eat," replied the marquis, "each according to his appetite; and the experiment will prove, I am sure, that the most solid portion, intended for one person only, will be enough for several. Oh! I beg you, madame, to let me have the pleasure of waiting on you."
"I am not at all hungry," said Gilberte, who had been for several days past too much distressed and excited not to have lost her appetite; "but to induce you two to eat, I will go through the motions."
Monsieur de Boisguilbault sat beside her and waited upon her with great zeal. Jean declared that he was too dirty to sit with them, and, when the marquis insisted, he confessed that he should be very ill at ease in such soft, deep chairs. He took a wooden stool, a relic of the former rustic furniture of the chalet, and, planting himself under the mantel, where he could dry himself from head to foot, began to eat with great zest. His portion was amply sufficient, for Gilberte simply nibbled at the strawberries, and the marquis was a phenomenally small eater. Moreover, even if he had more appetite than usual, he would gladly have stinted himself for the man he had struck two hours earlier, and who had forgiven him so frankly.
The peasant eats slowly and in silence. To him it is not the gratification of a capricious and fugitive craving, but a sort of solemn function; for on a working-day the meal hour is at the same time an hour of rest and reflection. Jappeloup became very grave, therefore, as he methodically cut his bread into small pieces and watched the cones blazing on the hearth. Monsieur de Boisguilbault, having gradually exhausted all that one can say to a person one does not know, relapsed into his usual taciturnity, and Gilberte, overdone by several nights of sleeplessness and weeping, felt an insurmountable drowsiness creep over her, the effect of the heat from the fire following the cold and dampness of the storm. She fought against it as long as she could, but the poor child was little more accustomed than her friend the carpenter to luxurious arm-chairs, fur rugs and candle-light. As she tried to smile and to answer the more and more infrequent remarks of the marquis, she felt as if she were magnetized; her lovely head gradually sank on the back of the chair, her pretty foot slipped nearer to the fire, and her strong, regular breathing suddenly betrayed the victory of sleep over her will-power.