“No, no, it’s because I am beginning to get tired of the cabriolet. The weather is so fine; I feel that it will do me good to walk. We’re only a little way from Monsieur Destival’s now. Here, Bertrand, take the reins; I’ll do the rest of the distance on foot.”
“What, lieutenant, you mean to——”
Auguste had already stopped his horse; he jumped lightly to the ground despite Bertrand’s grumbling, and said:
“Go on with Tony.”
“But what shall I tell Monsieur Destival?”
“That I am coming; I shall be there as soon as you.”
“But——”
“Bertrand, I insist.”
Bertrand said no more; but he cast an angry glance at the little milkmaid, and lashed Bébelle, who soon left Auguste far behind.