"The account was ready," said his father; "here it is. I will write the letter."
Christophe took the bill and put it in his pocket.
"But at any rate you will sup with us," said the goodman. "In this extremity you and the Lallier girl must exchange rings."
"Well, I will go to fetch her," cried Christophe.
The young man feared some indecision in his father, whose character he did not thoroughly appreciate; he went up to his room, dressed, took out a small trunk, stole downstairs, and placed it with his cloak and rapier under a counter in the shop.
"What the devil are you about?" asked his father, hearing him there.
"I do not want any one to see my preparations for leaving; I have put everything under the counter," he whispered in reply.
"And here is the letter," said his father.
Christophe took the paper, and went out as if to fetch their neighbor.
A few moments after Christophe had gone out, old Lallier and his daughter came in, preceded by a woman-servant carrying three bottles of old wine.