“Quick,” said he, “describe your dinner-party of yesterday. I saw them myself in the morning; the little one was driving four ponies, and with an amount of audacity! I bowed to them; did they mention me? Did they recognize me? When will you take me to Longueval? Answer me.”
“Answer? Yes. But which question first?”
“The last.”
“When shall I take you to Longueval?”
“Yes.”
“Well, in ten days; they don’t want to see any one just now.”
“Then you are not going back to Longueval for ten days?”
“Oh, I shall go back to-day at four o’clock. But I don’t count, you know. Jean Reynaud, the Cure’s godson. That is why I have penetrated so easily into the confidence of these two charming women. I have presented myself under the patronage and with the guarantee of the Church. And then they have discovered that I could render them little services. I know the country very well, and they will make use of me as a guide. In a word, I am nobody; while you, Count Paul de Lavardens, you are somebody; so fear nothing, your turn will come with the fetes and balls. Then you will be resplendent in all your glory, and I shall return very humbly into my obscurity.”
“You may laugh at me as much as you like; it is none the less true that during those ten days you will steal a march upon me—upon me!”
“How upon you?”