The two little fellows were dressed and ready two hours before it was time for them to appear. The gardener, bewildered by all the orders he had received, had entirely forgotten the wreath; but he had made some bouquets, which he gave to the children, then led them to the prompter’s box and said:
“Stay here; you’re to go on the stage when you’re called.”
The children waited quietly for half an hour; but they were tired by that time; they thought that they had been forgotten; and as they could enjoy themselves much more in the garden than under the stage, they left their bouquets there and went outside to play. In running about they approached the house, and saw on the ground floor, in a well-lighted room, a sideboard covered with innumerable delicacies, the bare sight of which made them open their mouths and lick their chops. They stopped, sighed, nudged each other, divined each other’s thought, and looked behind them in obedience to the natural instinct of the man who is about to do wrong. There was no one in sight; all the servants had deserted the house for the play.
“Oh! see the nice things, brother!” said the smaller of the two; “we never saw anything like ’em!”
“Oh! Fanfan, mustn’t that be sweet?”
“Say, Jean; just think—if we could eat some of it!”
“Look at them cakes!”
“There’s no one there; let’s climb in! Come on!”
They easily climbed in the ground-floor window; they ran to the sideboard, stuffed their mouths full, made aprons of their tunics, and filled them with fruit, meats, and cakes; lapped the cream that they could not carry away; dug their fingers into jars of preserves, and took refuge finally in the attic, to eat at their ease what they had filched.
While the little peasants were regaling themselves, Raymond was scouring the whole estate to find his Cupids. As he came out of the theatre, after a vain search, he met Monsieur de Marsan, who was looking for his wife, the company being surprised at her continued absence.