“To-morrow, on the road,” said Bertrand, “I will take pains to refer to the fact that we are hard up, while you, on the contrary, must jingle your coins. When we reach the place where we are to sleep, my lieutenant will pretend to be sick and say that he can’t continue his journey. The next morning he will stay in bed; then you must seize the opportunity for a tête-à-tête, make your declaration, and propose to the young woman to take her off before we wake up. She’ll accept—I’d bet my moustaches if I still had ‘em.”
“Agreed, my fine fellow—and the fifty crowns?”
“I’ll pay them to you when I see you ready to start. You can go to Lyon; we won’t go there, so as not to run into you.”
“Shake; I’ll abduct your charmer; and, as you say, she probably won’t resist, because, although your companion’s good-looking enough, he hasn’t this figure, this build—in fact, this fascinating air; ain’t that so?”
“I should say so! you remind me of a drum-major.”
The bargain being made, Bertrand and the tradesman, after drinking a glass to the success of their scheme, went to bed.
The next day they resumed their journey. Auguste seemed more bored than ever by Madame Florimont’s company; he dared not tell Bertrand so; but the ex-corporal observed the young man’s ill-concealed yawns and stifled sighs while the emotional Adèle continued to tell him that it would be her delight to stay with him always. After some time Auguste gave way to the drowsiness that overpowered him. He fell asleep on the back seat of the vehicle, beside the young woman, who said not another word. Bertrand, pretending to think that she too was asleep, said to the driver in an undertone:
“Poor fellow! if only sleep might put an end to his anxieties and pay his debts!”
“Is he in debt, do you say?”
“That is why we left Paris; and I am very much afraid that we shall be pursued by creditors at Lyon.”