Passedix had listened to Ambroisine, making from time to time one of those little grimaces which indicate that one places little credence in what one hears. When she had finished her narrative, he said, shaking his head:
"Between ourselves, belle baigneuse, what you have told me seems most extraordinary, and in my opinion this story of the Sire de Jarnonville is a trifle chimerical!"
"Why so, seigneur?" replied Ambroisine, leaving the bench. "It seems to me no more extraordinary than your story of the pork twisted round your sword hilt; and I should say that the event has proved that the gentleman's story was true."
Passedix did not think it best to reply. He walked toward Jarnonville, who had risen and was standing in the doorway.
"Sire de Jarnonville," said the Gascon, offering him his hand, "we both fought like brave men; you were victorious, but I bear you no ill will! especially as I am able to explain why Roland slipped from my hand. We were not on the same side, but, since peace has been concluded, shake hands, and let bygones be bygones!"
Instead of putting his hand in the hand that was offered him, Jarnonville, who had seemed not to listen to the Gascon, suddenly hurried away, without a word in reply.
"Sandioux! what does that mean?" cried Passedix, still standing with outstretched hand, while Ambroisine turned her face away to laugh. "Damme! is this the way that discourteous sombrinos responds to my civility! Evidently, this Jarnonville is nothing more than a felon, a boor, whom I will chastise handsomely at our first meeting. And let no one presume to thrust a child in between us, sandis! or I will give him a good kick somewhere!"
At that moment, a young bachelor, who had been in front of Master Hugonnet's house when Cédrille and his companion were blockaded there, and who had disappeared simultaneously with Bourriquet, returned to the shop, shouting:
"Ah! I know where the pretty girl has gone! I know what that charming Milanese came to Paris for!"
"You know that, boy!" cried the Chevalier Passedix, running up to the young man. "Oh! tell me quickly what you know, and I swear to you, by Roland and my godfather Chaudoreille, that I will treat you to a jar of wine at the next fête carillonnée."