"As I was curious to know what they were going to do there, I strolled back and forth in front of the house."
"That was very ingenious."
"And, sure enough, before long came out an old servant who knows my father. I ran up to him and questioned him, and he said: 'That young girl has come here to enter the service of Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin. She has been recommended to her, it seems; so it's all settled. As for the peasant who brought her here, he is going to rest a day or two and then go back to his province, unless he also prefers to find a place in Paris; but it seems that that is not to his taste.'—That is what I have learned."
"Thanks! a thousand thanks, my boy! Hôtel de Mongarcin, Rue Saint-Honoré. I shall be seen frequently in that vicinity.—Sandis! I am sorry that she is only a lady's-maid. But, after all, Dulcinea del Toboso was not a princess; and whatever anyone may say, Don Quixote was a hearty blade, and as good a man as another.—Au revoir, my boy! I will treat you whenever you choose, you know."
And Chevalier Passedix walked away by Rue des Mathurins, and the young bachelor by Place Cambray.
After a day so well employed, it was natural enough that Master Hugonnet should visit his usual wine shop in the evening; and he did not fail to do so. Doubtless there was a large assemblage of patrons, and the events of the morning, as they gave rise to much talk, naturally resulted in a proportionate amount of drinking.
The consequence was that Master Hugonnet returned home very late, completely drunk, and exceedingly susceptible to emotion, as he always was when in that condition.
Ambroisine, who was sitting up for her father, was not at all surprised by his state, and she urged him to go up to bed.
But Hugonnet had tears in his eyes, and he groaned mournfully as he stammered:
"Poor Lambourdin—it breaks my heart! Just imagine, daughter—he was shamefully beaten this morning!"