Having spoken, he let himself gently slide over the
edge of the basin, so deep that the best part of his
body went into the water. But not taking the
slightest notice, and hardly feeling it, he took the
Boethius out of his pocket—it was really
there—and putting his spectacles on, wherein
one glass only remained, and that one cracked in three
places, he looked in the little book for the page most
appropriate for his present situation. He doubtless
would have found it, and extracted from it new strength,
if the rotten state of his barnacles, the tears that
came into his eyes, and the feeble light which came
from the sky, had permitted him to search for it.
Very soon he had to confess that he was unable to
see a wink, and became angry with the moon, who showed
her pointed sickle on the edge of a cloud. He
reproached her and heaped bitter invectives on her.
He shouted:
“Luminary obscene, mischievous and libidinous,
you never tire of illuminating men’s wickedness,
and you deny a ray of your light to him who searches
for virtuous maxims!”
“The more so, abbe, as this bitch of a moon
gives just light enough to find our way along the
streets, and not sufficient to play a game of piquet.
Let’s go at once to the castle you spoke of,
where I have to slip in without being seen.”
That was good advice, and after we had drunk the wine
to the last drop we took the road, all three of us,
to the Cross of the Sablons. I walked with M.
d’Anquetil. My good tutor, hindered by the
water his breeches had soaked in, followed us, crying,
moaning and disgusted.
CHAPTER XVIII
Our Return—We smuggle M. d’Anquetil
in—M. d’Asterac on Jealousy—
M. Jerome Coignard in Trouble—What happened
while I was in the Laboratory—Jahel persuaded
to elope.
The morning light already pricked our jaded eyes when
we reached the green door to the park. We had
not to use the knocker, as some time ago the porter
had given us the keys of his domain. It was agreed
that my good tutor, with d’Anquetil, should cautiously
advance in the shadow of the lane, and that I should
remain behind on the lookout for the faithful Criton,
and the kitchen boys who might perhaps see us coming
along. This arrangement, which was nothing but
reasonable, was to turn out rather badly for me.
My two companions had gone up without being discovered,
and reached my room, where we had decided to hide
M. d’Anquetil until the moment of escape in the
post-chaise, but as I was climbing the second flight
of steps I met M. d’Asterac, in a red damask
gown, carrying a silver candlestick. He put,
as he habitually did, his hand on my shoulder.
“Hello! my son,” he said, “are you
not very happy, having broken off all intercourse
with women, and by that escaped all dangers of bad
company? With the august maidens of the air you
need not be in fear of quarrels, scuffles, injurious
and violent rows which usually occur with creatures
following a loose life. In your solitude, which
delights the fairies, you enjoy a delicious peace.”
Copyrights
The Queen Pedauque from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
