"With great pleasure, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire," said Férulus, eagerly. He had never been known to refuse an invitation to dinner.
And Robineau returned to his friends, saying:
"That’s a very learned man! deuce take it! he knows a lot!"
François, when he saw that Monsieur Férulus had finished his speech, ordered the music to strike up anew. Monsieur Cheval, who was no speaker, but who was equally anxious to secure the newcomer’s patronage, left his drum for a moment and went to his house, whence he soon returned leading a little horse, which he presented to Robineau, saying:
"Here, monsieur, is a stout nag, that won’t throw you down like Nicolas’s donkey; get on his back; he was newly shod this morning."
Robineau would have liked quite as well to make his entry on foot, but he dared not refuse Monsieur Cheval’s offer, so he climbed to the nag’s back, on condition that he should be allowed to go at a walk. They proceeded toward the château, around which could still be seen some vestiges of the ancient moats, wherein children were playing and tumbling about. At the right hand and the left were two towers which were in imminent danger of falling; but the buildings in the centre seemed to be in better condition. A large courtyard, where weeds were growing unchecked, preceded the buildings and was entered through a broad gateway with a small lodge on each side, occupied by the concierge and the gardener. Those worthies had remained at their windows awaiting their master’s entrance to carry out a little surprise which François had devised.
At last the proprietor arrived; they heard the hullabaloo caused by the shouts, the cowherds’ horns, the drum and the bagpipes; the children came first, then the peasants. The procession was swelled by Alfred and Edouard, laughing till the tears came; and Monsieur Férulus walked solemnly beside the horse. At the moment that they entered the courtyard of the château, the gardener hurled the wreath of flowers which he had prepared for his master; but instead of falling upon Robineau, it landed on the ears of his steed, who was thus crowned with flowers. At the same moment, the concierge leaned from the window to present the keys of the château, which he had placed in a salad-bowl, in default of a salver. He held this out with one hand, while with the other he raised a glass of wine, crying:
"Vive monseigneur! vive not’ bourgeois!"
The bourgeois did not inquire what there might be in the salad-bowl that was offered him. But, as he was rather inquisitive, he said to the concierge:
"Give it to me, my friend."