“Unfortunate king! deluded people!” murmured the countryman; and he took the road to the Capelette, where he lived in solitude. His mind became more and more wavering. Having no one with whom to engage in discussion, he had contracted the habit of controverting his ideas himself, and the consequence was, that he had become a skeptic in every thing. This was the reason why he had brought up his son as he had done, or, rather, the reason why he had not brought him up at all. CHAPTER III. On the evening of the day on which he left home, Eusebe arrived at the railroad-depot. He approached the ticket-office, and said to the agent,-- “I want to go to Paris.” “Which class car do you wish, sir?” “The best.” “Fifty-four francs,” replied the agent. Eusebe handed him three louis, and received six francs in return. “There,” thought Eusebe, “is a clever fellow: it did not take him a minute to tell how much was coming to me.” “And now,” he asked, “could you tell me, sir, where I will find the carriage?” “The train, you mean.” “I don’t know. Is that the name of the vehicle that is to transport me to Paris?” asked Eusebe, timidly. “Vehicle!” cried the man. “What do you call a vehicle? Your jesting is ill timed, sir. Here is your car: another time try to be a little more polite.” “This man,” said Eusebe to himself, “is not so clever, after all: he is a fool,--an ignoramus!” Eusebe’s journey was without incident. Alone in a first-class _coupé_, he made himself a couch, on the floor, of the cushions, and, placing his valise under his head for a pillow, he slept quietly until daylight. When he awoke, he had passed Orleans. His eyes, half open, glanced at the country, and a cry of admiration escaped him. “Oh, what splendid farms! what beautiful fields!” cried he: “how admirably the land is cultivated! what care, what labor, is bestowed on it! My father was right: civilization has not penetrated into the departments of the interior. Fifteen hours ago, I left the Capelette. What a difference! Why is the soil so fertile here and so sterile with us? The soil is the same, but the cultivation is not. Here there are no immense forests, no uncultivated fields: the country is as populous as our cities. Laborers abound, and agricultural implements are brought to the highest state of perfection. What abundance! what riches! Everybody seems to be happy and contented. How beautiful and grand all this is!”