“Oh, famous! My sister’s got her own vineyard; she’s one of the biggest farmers in the place; and see! when a woman marries off her son, why she makes the corks fly, you know. The wedding’ll last at least a week. If you think you’d enjoy it, messieurs, you’d better come with me; you’ll be made welcome, and you’ll see some good fellows. My sister’ll be glad to see you, and so will Cadet, for he likes folks from the city. You’re Parisians, ain’t you, messieurs?”
“As you say, Monsieur——”
“Rondin, at your service. Well! do you accept?”
Auguste looked at Bertrand; the idea of attending a village wedding was decidedly attractive to him, and the ex-corporal, for his part, felt a secret longing to make the acquaintance of Monsieur Cadet Eustache’s wine; but the fear that his master would become too well acquainted with the ladies of the party led him to resist the longing, and he whispered to Auguste:
“Decline, lieutenant; that’s the wisest thing to do, believe me; if we keep stopping on the road, our tour of the world will be simply a short trip to Bourgogne, which is not the land of your Virgils and Tibulluses; and we shall return to Paris without making a fortune.”
“I am very sorry to decline your invitation, Monsieur Rondin,” said Auguste, “but my companion reminds me that our business requires our presence in Italy as soon as possible. In truth, if we keep this conveyance, I don’t think that we shall arrive there for a long time to come; I believe that the knave is driving at a walk; so that his miserable vehicle can make its sixteenth trip to Naples, no doubt.—I say, driver—are you asleep, my friend? Do you think it’s a joke to drive like this?”
The driver turned and coolly informed his passengers that his horses were going at their ordinary pace, which they never varied, but that he would undertake to set them down without mishap at their destination.
“That is very pleasant,” said Bertrand; “it means that we are to go all the way to Italy as if we were following a hearse; if the driver has made the trip fifteen times at this gait, he must have begun very young. And you, Monsieur Rondin, on your way to a wedding—aren’t you in a hurry?”
“Oh! they’ll wait for me. Besides, Cadet must have a chance to rest before he gets married.”
“Has the groom been travelling too?”