The next morning, young Plumard put his hand to his head to make sure that his plaster was still firm. As he passed his fingers over it, he felt a sort of crust, but the woollen covering did not stir, and the clerk was convinced that the process of growing was under way.
A week passed.
Plumard had tried, but to no purpose, to remove the piece of woollen stocking that covered his head.
"Let it alone, for heaven's sake!" said Bahuchet; "if it sticks, it must be that the work is going on; when the hair has grown a little, your skullcap will fall off of itself."
Another week elapsed, and Plumard made another attempt to remove the piece of stocking, but obtained no better result.
At last, after a month, he could stand it no longer; he determined to find out what was under the skullcap, and he said to Bahuchet one morning:
"Take off this piece of woollen, which is beginning to be a nuisance; it is high time to see if my hair is growing."
Bahuchet no longer dared to deny his friend's entreaty. He pinched up the edge of the stocking, and tried to pull it off; but Plumard uttered a piercing shriek.
"Stop!" he cried; "you are tearing off my skin!"
Bahuchet's pomade, being composed largely of pitch, had, when it dried, become firmly glued to the scalp, while the piece of stocking was so stuck to the pitch that it was utterly impossible to detach it. To pull off even a small fragment, it would be necessary to pull off a bit of the pitch, and the skin would inevitably come with it. We can understand, therefore, why Plumard screamed aloud when Bahuchet tried to remove his skullcap.