“If the husband answers for everything, madame,” observed Jéricourt with a mocking expression, “it seems to me that you have no right to worry!”
“Let’s go and stand by the chestnut tree, Jéricourt,” said little Saint-Arthur, leading his literary friend away.
“Ah! my dear Alfred, you are a sad rake! you want to see the foliage upside down!—Well, I will let you take me where you will.”
As she returned to her seat, Madame Glumeau saw her son rush into the woods with an air of dismay, crying:
“Miaulard! Miaulard! where’s Miaulard?”
“What’s the matter, Astianax? you look all upset. What do you want of Monsieur Miaulard?”
“Why, we want him to take Kingerie’s place. Just as we were ready to begin Il y a plus d’un Ane à la Foire, we noticed that Kingerie wasn’t on the stage; we called him and hunted everywhere for him; at last Dufournelle heard groaning from the direction of the pond; he ran there and found that Kingerie had fallen in. It seems that he had remained at the billiard room to dress, and discovered that he was late; thereupon he started to run, and didn’t remember that there was a small pond in the woods; so he fell into it.”
“Upon my word! did he do it on purpose? A pond that isn’t ten feet in circumference! Did he find a way to drown himself in it, too?”
“No, he couldn’t have done it if he had wanted to; there isn’t three feet of water; but the champagne he had drunk—everything together made him sick; he is in no state to act, and Miaulard must take his place.—Tell the audience to be patient.—Miaulard! Miaulard!”
Madame Glumeau returned to her seat and informed the company of the accident that had happened to one of the amateur actors, and requested indulgence for the one who was to take his place. This little speech at an end, the mistress of the house was on the point of resuming her seat, when she saw a gentleman standing against a tree a little apart from the company, and apparently engaged in passing in review the assembled guests.