They were near the château, when Robineau uttered an exclamation which roused his companions from their reflections.
"That man again! always that man! He is my bête noire! I don’t know why, but I would rather see a wolf than that tall vagabond!"
The young men looked up and saw the poverty-stricken traveller seated on the ground a short distance from the château, at which he seemed to be gazing as attentively as on the day before.
"Ah, it is the man with the knotted stick!" said Alfred, with a smile.
"It is that poor devil who was at Clermont," said Edouard.
"Yes, it is that fine fellow who is so ugly to look at. For heaven’s sake, see how he stares at my château! He does it ostentatiously; one would say that he wanted to pick a quarrel with the workmen he sees there. I will have the rascal driven away from my moat."
"I do not believe that your lordship has that right, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire. Monsieur Férulus would tell you that that man is extra muros and consequently cannot be disturbed."
"But why does he look at my property like that? I don’t like it."
"Ask him."
"What! Speak to that vagabond! Compromise myself by addressing him! Certainly not. However, I should be glad to know what he is doing here."