“Tell the captain to come and pick me up at Michu’s, and I’ll go with him to Troyes.”
So saying Corentin got down, and stood about for a few minutes examining the ground. He looked at the two elms which faced each other,—one against the park wall, the other on the bank of the rond-point; then he saw (what no one had yet noticed) the button of a uniform lying in the dust, and he picked it up. Entering the lodge he saw Violette and Michu sitting at the table in the kitchen and talking eagerly. Violette rose, bowed to Corentin, and offered him some wine.
“Thank you, no; I came to see the corporal,” said the young man, who saw with half a glance that Violette had been drunk all night.
“My wife is nursing him upstairs,” said Michu.
“Well, corporal, how are you?” said Corentin who had run up the stairs and found the gendarme with his head bandaged, and lying on Madame Michu’s bed; his hat, sabre, and shoulder-belt on a chair.
Marthe, faithful in her womanly instincts, and knowing nothing of her son’s prowess, was giving all her care to the corporal, assisted by her mother.
“We expect Monsieur Varlet the doctor from Arcis,” she said to Corentin; “our servant-lad has gone to fetch him.”
“Leave us alone for a moment,” said Corentin, a good deal surprised at the scene, which amply proved the innocence of the two women. “Where were you struck?” he asked the man, examining his uniform.
“On the breast,” replied the corporal.
“Let’s see your belt,” said Corentin.