“Morbleu! a victory wouldn’t give me more pleasure! My poor master! I would like so much to see him become more reasonable! to see him get over his nonsense! I’ll treat to a bottle—two bottles over and above the bargain.”
“I accept.”
“So she didn’t make any very great resistance?”
“I should say not! I had taken her fancy; besides, she told me that her sense of delicacy wouldn’t allow her to travel with a man who is in debt.”
In his delight, Bertrand ordered several more corks drawn; he paid the tradesman his fifty crowns on the spot, and he did not go to bed, so that he might, unseen, witness Madame Florimont’s departure. She rose at daybreak, without waking Auguste, and drove off with the leather dealer.
“A pleasant journey!” exclaimed Bertrand as he looked after the wagon. When it was out of sight he ran to Auguste’s room and woke him, crying:
“Victory, lieutenant! I have driven the enemy from the citadel!”
“What’s the matter?” inquired Auguste, rubbing his eyes.
“The matter is that I have relieved you of your emotional travelling-companion, who went off this morning with our leather man.”
“Is it possible, Bertrand?”