"Where are you going so early in the morning, Monsieur Férulus?" said Alfred.
"I am going away, messieurs; I am leaving this spot forever; I am discharged, deprived of my office! And why? because I taught a young woman to use the warming pan that nature has given her. It was not my fault that there was not any other kind in the château."
"What! has that trouble not been arranged?—But Robineau is a good fellow."
"Since he has married, he has become an absolute nullity. Poor, dear man! He will see some cruel moments! I have not the good fortune to please his excellent wife. She did not consider my verses pretty, or rather, she refused to listen to them.—Messieurs, it is useless to hope for anything from one who does not respect learning! After boring myself to death, playing whist every evening with that insolent La Pincerie and his idiotic brother, this is the way that I am rewarded! Saturus sum opprobriis!—and thrown out of doors without even a month’s salary as librarian. But let them find another like me! Madame says that her Uncle Mignon can do perfectly well all that I do here. What blasphemy! But it seems that all the places which the dear uncle was to hold will be reduced to that of servant to his niece.—However, I am carrying the library away under my arm; it belongs to me, it is all my property. I am going to try to start another little school, or to find another Mæcenas, who desires a Virgil to procure him immortality for three hundred francs a year. It seems to me that that is not worth haggling about.—As for this château, you will see, messieurs, that it will soon be pillaged, sold, abandoned; it will crumble to dust, and no one will remember the name of its last owner, and people will seek for La Roche-Noire as they now seek for Babylon, Thebes and Nineveh!"
"We shall not see that, my dear Monsieur Férulus, for we too are about to leave the château."
"You are going to leave, messieurs," said Férulus with a joyous air; "I am delighted to hear it! These people are not worthy of having you for guests! When you and I are gone, I ask you what clever people will remain at the château?—Are you going back to Paris?"
"Perhaps so; we intend to travel a little."
"You do not need an interpreter, do you, in the countries which you propose to visit?"
"No, we know enough to make ourselves known where we shall go."
"You don’t happen to have any children whose education needs to be attended to?"