“I don’t believe it.”
“Do you want to bet?”
“No; because you would indulge in some pleasant little performance which would make my night as agreeable as my evening has been; and I confess that I’ve had enough of that sort of thing for to-day. Good-night, Monsieur Raymond! I am going to bed, and I advise you to do the same.”
“Yes, neighbor, yes, I’ll do the same. Sleep well. Your servant!”
Raymond took his candle with an offended air and went to his room, locking the door behind him. I laughed at the crazy fellow’s pretensions and folly, and got into bed, where I soon fell asleep. A noise, the nature of which I could not determine, soon woke me. I listened, and called to Raymond, to find out if he were ill; he did not answer, and I heard nothing more, so I went to sleep again. I did not wake until eight o’clock; the sun was shining brightly into my room, indicating a lovely day. As I was at Montmorency, although against my will, I would at all events enjoy the delightful walks in the neighborhood and have a taste of the pleasures of the country before returning to Paris. Our cabriolet could not be repaired as yet, and we should have to wait for it.
While I was dressing, I called to Raymond and asked him if he wanted to take a walk before breakfast. He did not answer; apparently he was still asleep. But his door was ajar, and I seemed to remember that he had closed it the night before. I entered, and called him again:
“Come, come, lazybones! it’s late; wake up!”
No answer. I looked at his bed: he was not there. So he had risen earlier than I and gone out before me. I was turning away, when I saw Raymond’s coat, waistcoat, and breeches spread out on chairs, where he had put them to dry. What! he had gone out without coat or breeches? that was very strange! Thereupon, I remembered my neighbor’s schemes, his dallying with the servant, and the wager he proposed when he was eating his supper. My uncertainty was at an end: Monsieur Raymond had set out to prove to me that he was not to be resisted; he had gone to lie with the stout damsel who had wiped him and rubbed him so thoroughly. But inn servants do not stay in bed until eight o’clock; the girl must have been up long before. Why had Raymond not returned to his bed? Did he want the whole household to know where he had passed the night? I did not see the point of that very clearly; however, I determined to ascertain the fact. I called and rang; the same servant appeared; her aspect was unchanged; she had a smile on her lips, her big eyes were wide open, and her manner alert and determined. She had anything but a bashful air; I supposed that she was probably accustomed to nocturnal visits. I looked at her and laughed.
“Did you call, monsieur?”
“Yes, my child.”