"Alas, no! 'tis merely a Hebrew lexicon I was studying to decide a dispute I have with my friend Doctor Johannes Caballus of the University of Orange; but—you are learned in Hebrew, monsieur?"
"I cannot say I am," I laughed, "though we meet on common ground in admiration of Rabelais."
"In that case, monsieur, you and mademoiselle must be my guests at dinner. It is almost the hour, and we will dine here." And without waiting for a reply he seized a small handbell that lay beside him and rang it. In a little the host appeared, and the curé turned to him:
"Is dinner, as I ordered it, ready?"
"Monsieur!"
"Then serve it here, and set the table for four. Mayhap the Doctor Johannes Caballus may join us. Let me see what there is for dinner. Ah! three sucking-pigs, and a fourth to follow in quince sauce, six capons, twelve pigeons, twelve quails, four legs of mutton en brune paté, twelve sweetbreads, four tongues, four veal——"
But the landlord had fled, and Diane was staring with wide-open eyes, whilst I confess I thought that we had a harmless lunatic before us.
"Perhaps, monsieur, we have Gargantua dining with us?"
"That would be but a flea-bite to him. But there is the Doctor Caballus." And pushing aside the roses he pointed before him; all we could see was a sleek mule sunning itself in a patch of green.
"There is only a mule there," said Diane.