"Yes! yes! and I will pay you, when you pay me for the ham which I have bought for you this morning."
This recollection redoubled Armand's ill-humour; he felt inclined to go and get it himself; but in addition to his being unaccustomed to go out alone, he was proud, and could not make up his mind to stop at the shop of the pork-butcher, especially as the man knew him, from having seen him frequently pass by with the Abbé Durand, and it would have been very annoying to him to explain to such a person the reason of his coming himself, and of his being alone. To have profited by his liberty, Armand ought to have been better able to manage for himself, and to overcome his repugnance to a thousand things, which he could not bring himself to do. He began to discover that he was made to pay dearly for a freedom from which he hardly knew how to extract any advantage; nevertheless he had nothing to complain of. No one controlled his actions, and he could not help acknowledging, that the Abbé Durand had a right to refuse to take him out, and his father a right to forbid his servants to execute his orders. He felt that the kindness which these servants had hitherto manifested towards him, could result only from their submission to the authority of his father and his preceptor; still he persuaded himself that the latter, by acting as they did, took an unfair advantage of the need he had of their protection. He did not remember, that when we cannot do without people, we must make up our minds to be dependent on them.
Being out of temper this day, he learned his lessons badly; then interrupted them, and did not finish them. The manner in which he had gone through his morning's tasks left him in no humour for the evening's studies: he therefore passed the afternoon in playing at battledore and shuttlecock in the yard with Henry, with whom he was very glad to be on better terms again; but when he saw his father return, he hid himself. The remainder of the day he was afraid to meet him, for fear of being asked whether he had been at work. At night, he returned to his room, much embarrassed, and scarcely daring to look at the Abbé, who, however, said nothing, but treated him as usual. It was of no avail for Armand to say to himself that no one had a right to scold him, and that he was free to do as he pleased: he was, nevertheless, ashamed of wishing for and doing what was unreasonable; for the man who is most completely master of his actions, is no more at liberty to neglect his duties, than a child whom we compel to fulfil them: the sole difference is, that the man possesses reason and strength to do what is right, and that it is because the child does not yet possess these qualities, that he stands in need of being sustained by the necessity of obedience. Nothing would be more unhappy than a child left entirely to himself; half the time he would not know what he wanted; he would commence a hundred things, and never finish one of them, and would pass his life without knowing how. Even he who considers himself reasonable, and who, on this account, thinks that there is no necessity for his being commanded, does not perceive that all his reasonableness springs from his doing what is commanded without repugnance, and without ill-temper; and that if he had no one to guide him, he would be quite incapable of guiding himself. Armand had some notion of all this, but it was a confused one: he did not reflect much upon the matter, and merely thought that, after all, there was no such great pleasure in being free.
The next day, which was Sunday, two of his companions, the sons of an old friend of M. de Saint Marsin, came to see him. They were about fifteen or sixteen years of age, frank and thoughtless, and often amused Armand by relating anecdotes of their college, and of the tricks of the boys; but they sometimes shocked him also, by their coarse and disagreeable manners. They, on their side, often ridiculed him for being too orderly, too neat, and too elegant. As their father was not rich, he had only placed them at college as day-scholars; and as they always went there alone, they laughed at Armand, who could not move a step without his tutor. He was therefore delighted to be able to tell them that he was free to do whatever he pleased.
"That's good," said they, "we shall have fine fun: we will go to the place where we went last Sunday; one can play at ball there with all the people of the neighbourhood, who are dressed in their Sunday clothes: they swear, they fight; it's capital sport! Jules was near getting a thrashing from one of the players, because he laughed at him for never sending back the ball." "And Hippolyte," said the other, "had his nose and lips swelled for three days, from having been hit by the ball, in the face; and then they drink beer. Though we were sent to stay here the whole morning, we were determined to go there; will you come with us?"
"Certainly not," replied Armand, to whom this sport offered few attractions: he had no ambition to contend with a porter, nor be struck by a ball, nor to drink beer at a tavern. "You must come," continued his companions. "Oh, we'll polish you up; we'll show you how to amuse yourself."
"I wish to amuse myself in my own way," said Armand, who endeavoured, but in vain, to extricate himself from his friends, who had each taken one of his arms, in order to drag him against his will out of the yard where they were. Armand cried out and struggled, and, seeing his father at the window, "Papa," said he, "don't let them drag me away by force."—"I! my son," replied M. de Saint Marsin, "why do you ask me to prevent these young gentlemen from doing anything? You know very well that every one is free here. My friends, amuse yourselves according to your own fancy. Armand, do just what you please. I have no wish to restrain you in any respect," and he withdrew from the window. The two lads laughed outrageously, repeating, as they held Armand tightly by the arm, "Armand, do just what you please;" and seeing that M. de Saint Marsin left them a clear stage, they forced Armand to run along the streets, in spite of his cries and struggles. As they passed along, people exclaimed, "Look at those young rascals fighting!" and, indeed, Armand did not make a very respectable appearance; he was without cravat, or hat; he had on a soiled over-coat, and his stockings were tied in a slovenly manner; it was this which delighted his mischievous companions, for they knew he had a great objection to be seen in public, unless when well dressed, and they had sometimes fancied, when walking with him, that he had manifested some degree of pride, in consequence of being better dressed than they were. The remarks which were made on them increased his annoyance and anger. "Let me go!" he exclaimed, "you have no right to hold me against my will." "Hinder us, then," said his tormentors; but Armand was strong in arguments only, so that in order to avoid being dragged along by force, he was obliged to promise that he would go with them voluntarily; but he was indignant at the treatment he had received, and might perhaps, notwithstanding his promise, have been tempted to make his escape, had not his two tormentors kept constant guard over him, "Don't be a baby," they said, "you don't know how much you'll be amused."
They soon reached a kind of tavern-garden, where several men were playing at ball. Jules' first joke was to push Armand in amongst them; a ball struck him on the left ear, and the man whose throw he had interfered with, gave him a blow with his fist on the right shoulder, in order to push him out of the way. This threw him on the feet of another man, who sent him off with a second blow, at the same time swearing at him, and telling him to mind what he was about. He had not time to reply to this one, before the ball came bounding close to him, and one of the men who ran after it, for the purpose of sending it back again, threw him on the ground with an oath, at the same time falling with him; every one laughed, and especially Jules and Hippolyte. Armand had never in his life felt so enraged, but seeing that his anger was impotent, his heart was ready to burst, and had not his pride restrained him, he would have cried with vexation. However, he restrained himself, and withdrawing from the players, he seized the moment when Jules and Hippolyte, who had probably had sufficient of this kind of sport, were no longer watching him, and leaving the garden, he hastened home as fast as he could, trembling lest he should see them coming after him. His heart swelled with anger and a sense of degradation, to find that he was unable either to defend himself, or to punish those who had so unworthily used their strength against him. He reached home at last: his father was coming out as he entered, and asked him, somewhat ironically, whether he enjoyed his walk. Armand could no longer contain himself; he said it was a shame to have encouraged Jules and Hippolyte to drag him away by force, as they had done: "If it was to punish me," he continued, "for the agreement you pretended to make with me, I ought to have been told of it. I did not ask you to make such an agreement."
"My child," said M. de Saint Marsin, "I have no wish to punish you; I have nothing to punish you for; I have no right to punish you. On the other hand, what right had I to prevent your companions from doing what they pleased with you. When you were dependent upon me, I could say, I do not wish him to do such and such things, consequently I will not allow any one to force him to do them. I could exercise my authority, and even my strength, if necessary, to protect you from those who might desire to interfere with you. I could not permit any one to infringe my rights, by compelling you to obey them, but now you depend upon yourself only; it is your business to defend yourself, to say I will not, and to discover what your will is worth. So long as you are unwilling to be dependent upon any one, no one is obliged to assist you."
"I see, then," said Armand, in a tone of irritation, "that because I am not dependent upon you, if you saw any one going to kill me, you would say that you had no right to defend me."