An inquiry was indeed started by the Procurator, who professed to be indignant, and threatened us with dire consequences; but on second thoughts he found it wiser to let the whole thing drop; since no one really wanted to close the door so happily reopened. This was the method we chose to show that we could be true subjects of the Duke and King, and yet insist on having our own way--for there is no denying that we are a stiff-necked generation--and this being done, the town seemed to pick up its spirits after the trials it had passed through, and we were once more all good friends together. We would wink and slap each other on the back, when we met, and say that people had better let us alone, as the good tricks were not yet all out of the bag: and so in this way the memory of our misfortunes died away and was forgotten. XII OTHER PEOPLE’S HOUSES October. After much delay I was finally obliged to settle down somewhere; I kept putting it off on the pretense that I wanted to look carefully over the ground, but I had to come to it at last, much against my will. At first the whole town was open to me, and my friends were eager to offer me a bed for a night or two; every one naturally pitied a man whose hearth was a heap of cold cinders, and wanted to give him what help they could; “at first” I say, but as the recollection of our disasters faded away, people began once more to draw back into their shells,--except poor victims like me who had no shells left to draw into. My children would have been shocked at the bare idea of my living at the inn; such a thing was never heard of among good Clamecyans of our sort, and, though it was not exactly a matter of feeling with my sons, there was the terrible question to be considered--“What would people say?” There was no hurry, of course, on their part or on mine; we both tried to put off the evil day, for I am altogether too outspoken to be at my ease in bigoted households such as theirs, so we dodged around the question in a most uncomfortable state of mutual embarrassment. Martine got us out of our dilemma by insisting that I must come to her, for she really does love and want me;--but there was my son-in-law. Naturally there was no reason why he should wish to have me as a permanent member of his household, and so there we all were! This made me feel as if my poor old bones were being put up for sale, and I kept out of their way as much as possible, while on their side they watched me with a suspicious eye.