"Buda-Pesth," said I at random.
"Very well," said Paragot, "the day after tomorrow we start for Buda-Pesth. Now let me go to sleep."
We took exactly two months getting to Buda-Pesth. The only incident of our journey which I clearly remember is a week's sojourn at the farm of La Haye near Chartres where we had carted manure, and where we renewed our acquaintance with Monsieur and Madame Dubosc.
CHAPTER X
In Buda-Pesth three things happened.
First, Paragot slipped in the street and broke his ankle bone, so that he lay seven weeks in hospital, during which time Blanquette and I and Narcisse lived like sparrows on the housetops, dazed by the incomprehensibilities of the strange city.
Secondly, Paragot's aunt, his mother's sister, died intestate leaving a small sum of money which he inherited as her nearest surviving relative.
Thirdly, Paragot fell into the arms of Theodor Izelin the painter, an old friend of Paris student days.
The consequences of the first accident, though not immediate, were lasting. Paragot walked for ever afterwards with a slight limp, and his tramps along the high-roads of Europe had to be abandoned.