“How old are you, you rascal, to venture to make such remarks?”
“Why, monsieur, I am fifty,” replied Jasmin, straightening himself up and putting out his leg.
“Hum! I believe that you take off something; you look much older than that. But no matter, I will bury ten like you!”
“Monsieur is at liberty to do so, certainly.”
“And as soon as my gout has left me, I will go and embrace my heir. Of course I could send for the nurse to come here; but the doctor says that children mustn’t have change of air; and I would rather deprive myself of seeing mine than expose him to the danger of being sick again.”
“Besides, monsieur, whenever you want me to go to see our young man, you know that I am always ready; and there’s no need of sending that fat Turlurette with me; I know how to tell whether the child is well. I will go to Gagny every day if you want; it doesn’t tire me a bit.”
Jasmin was very fond of going to see Chérubin; in the first place, the faithful retainer was already devotedly attached to his master’s son; and in the second place, he always emptied several jars of wine with the foster-father, who also had become his friend. The marchioness had been dead five months, when Monsieur de Grandvilain at last got relief from his gout and was able to leave his great easy-chair. His first thought was to order the horses to be harnessed to his carriage; then he climbed in, Jasmin scrambling up behind, and they started for Gagny.
Little Chérubin continued in excellent health, because it was not he who had the delicacies that Turlurette continued to send to Nicole. One of the nurse’s little boys had already died of inflammation of the bowels; the other two, who were larger and stronger, still held out against the biscuits and sweetmeats; but their complexions were sallow, while Chérubin’s glowed with health and freshness.
On the day when the marquis started for Gagny, Jacquinot Frimousset had begun his visits to the wine-shop in the morning, and he was already quite drunk when one of his friends informed him that the Marquis de Grandvilain’s carriage was in front of his door.
“Good!” said Jacquinot, “it’s my friend Monsieur Jasmin come to see us. He ain’t a bit proud, although he’s a valet de chambre in a noble family; we’ll empty a few jugs together.”