“Really, madame, I abuse your good nature. To compel you to receive my friend——”
“Is he not presentable?”
“I beg pardon; he’s a very good fellow,—a little free-and-easy,—I mean, a little eccentric; he is very well circumstanced, he has a handsome fortune——”
“That is a matter of indifference to us; but it seems that he must be very fond of you, to look for you so energetically.”
“Oh! that’s because he doesn’t want to go back alone.”
At that moment Poucette returned with Freluchon, who, as soon as he caught sight of Edmond, exclaimed:
“Ah! so this is the way you treat your friends; and it was to make me pass a day like Robinson Crusoe, in a horrible place where one doesn’t see a living being, that you brought me into the country with you!”
“Freluchon!—don’t you see these ladies?”
“Oh! I beg pardon, mesdames; but really that is no way to act; I leave it to these ladies—let them say whether I did wrong to cry aloud.—Imagine, mesdames, that this gentleman, who dares to call me his friend, brought me here almost by force this morning, saying: ‘We will have a delightful day; I am going to call on some very charming ladies who live at Chelles, but I shall not stay long; go to Gournay and wait for me; order a matelote and I’ll be with you at four o’clock.—Very good; I turn to the right when he turns to the left. I find myself in a country which is not unpleasant to look at, perhaps, but where you don’t meet a living soul—not a peasant—not an ass—and ordinarily there are asses everywhere!—Oh! by the way, I did meet some sheep, but no shepherd—I saw only the dog—probably he acts as shepherd too. After walking about for three mortal hours in this desert, somewhat anxious concerning my plight and saying to myself from time to time: ‘Can it be that a second Deluge has swept this region?’ I returned to the modest cabaret where I had ordered a matelote, some fried fish, and even a rabbit sauté, for I should not believe that I was dining in the country unless I ate rabbit.
“The dinner was ready, but monsieur had not arrived. I waited one, two, three-quarters of an hour, until the cabaretier informed me that the dinner was suffering from the delay. At that, I took my place at the table, thinking that he would come in a moment. I swallowed several pieces of eel—the matelote was good, I must admit that—but he didn’t come. I said to myself: ‘What’s the use of leaving the eel?’—I ate eleven slices of it, mesdames, with fried fish and rabbit in proportion; if I have indigestion, it will be his fault! Eleven slices! and the eel was superb.