“Mother,” said Joseph, “I will attend to the trunks which they are bringing in.”
“Hochon,” said the grandmother to Francois, “show the rooms to Monsieur Bridau.”
As the dinner was to be served at four o’clock and it was now only half past three, Baruch rushed into the town to tell the news of the Bridau arrival, describe Agathe’s dress, and more particularly to picture Joseph, whose haggard, unhealthy, and determined face was not unlike the ideal of a brigand. That evening Joseph was the topic of conversation in all the households of Issoudun.
“That sister of Rouget must have seen a monkey before her son was born,” said one; “he is the image of a baboon.”
“He has the face of a brigand and the eyes of a basilisk.”
“All artists are like that.”
“They are as wicked as the red ass, and as spiteful as monkeys.”
“It is part of their business.”
“I have just seen Monsieur Beaussier, and he says he would not like to meet him in a dark wood; he saw him in the diligence.”
“He has got hollows over the eyes like a horse, and he laughs like a maniac.”