“Run! the devil! that’s very easy to say! However, I’ll try.”
“Men run at all ages, worthy Jasmin, and you were built for a runner.”
As he spoke, the professor took the old servant’s arm and hurried him away in the direction where they hoped to find Chérubin. As they walked rapidly along, Jasmin asked Monsieur Gérondif:
“Have you thought of any excuse for sending the girl away?”
“No; have you?”
“No, I have not.”
“Let us go on, that will come in due time.”
That rapid march lasted for three-quarters of an hour. Jasmin could hold out no longer, he was entirely out of breath. But the professor still pulled him along, saying:
“Macte puer! macte animo! Our dear Chérubin’s happiness is at stake. Look out, excellent Jasmin, you are stumbling; you are putting your feet in the ruts, in pools of water!”
The excellent Jasmin’s breath was exhausted, and he decided to fall in the middle of the road.