—Then the Church is a spectacle like another. There are chants, music, tapers, perfumes, flowers, the half-light which comes through the coloured windows.
—Without speaking of the fellows covered with gold-tinsel who repeat in unknown language the pater-nosters to which no one listens. It is enough to make one burst with laughing, and, if I had not my cabbages to plant, I would go myself now and again and entertain myself at these masquerades which are as good as the theatres at the fair, and to complete the resemblance, it only costs a couple of sous.
—But the principal person of the troop attracts the looks, and the danger is there.
—Your priestling is young then?
—And vigorous. Strong appetites. When I see him rambling in the village, I begin to say: "Good people, the cock is loose, take care of your hens." It is like your Curé of Djidjelly.
—I am easy on that ground. The black cock will not come and rub his wings here. He knows now that he has mistaken the door; they have informed him regarding me, and he will not be so rude as to come again.
But just at that moment the servant came into the room quite scared, and said:
—Here is Monsieur le Curé.
—Who? what? said Durand; and turning towards me, Shall I receive him?
Well, we shall have a laugh!
He was still undecided, when Marcel glided into the room.