"Quicker!" said Doctor Latonne; and, in obedience to his command, the man who worked the handle turned it with greater energy. The old fellow's legs began to go at a running pace, and he, seized with irresistible gaiety, like a child being tickled, laughed as loudly as ever he could, moving his head about wildly. And, in the midst of his peals of laughter, he kept repeating: "What a rigolo! what a rigolo!" having, no doubt, picked up this word from the mouth of some foreigner.
Colosse, in his turn, broke out, and, stamping on the ground with his foot and striking his thighs with his hands, he exclaimed: "Ha! bougrrre of a Cloviche! bougrrre of a Cloviche!"
"Enough!" was the inspector's next command.
The vagabond was unfastened, and the physicians drew apart in order to verify the result.
Then Père Clovis was seen rising from the armchair, stepping on the ground, and walking. He proceeded with short steps, it was true, quite bent, and grimacing from fatigue at every effort, but still he walked!
Doctor Bonnefille was the first to declare: "This is quite a remarkable case!" Doctor Black immediately improved upon his brother-physician. Doctor Honorat, alone, said nothing.
Gontran whispered in Paul's ear: "I don't understand. Look at their heads. Are they dupes or humbugs?"
But Andermatt was speaking. He told the history of this cure since the first day, the relapse, and the final recovery which was declared to be settled and absolute.
He gaily added: "If our patient goes back a little every winter, we'll cure him again every summer."
Then he pompously eulogized the waters of Mont Oriol, extolled their properties, all their properties: