"Oh, I know you! You would be afraid of being scolded by Mademoiselle Marianne, you would hurry your pace, arrive in a state of perspiration, drink cold water and give yourself inflammation of the lungs.... Some idiot of a doctor would purge you instead of bleeding, or bleed you instead of purging; and, three days later, Good-bye, there would be the end to the Abbé Rémy!" "All the same I must return to Boulogne.... Hi! postillion! postillion! Stop!..." The carriage, with its fresh horses, set off at a quick trot. "Listen," says Bougainville, "this is the best thing to do." "The best thing to do, my good friend, my dear Antoine, is to stop the horses, so that I can get down and make my way back to Boulogne." "No," says Bougainville; "the best thing to be done is for you to come with me as far as Versailles." "As far as Versailles?..." "Yes; as you have missed Mademoiselle Marianne's dinner you must dine with me at Versailles. Whilst I am receiving final commands from His Majesty, one of these gentlemen will undertake to find a travelling carriage to convey you back to Boulogne." "Of course that would be a great pleasure, my friend, but...." "But what?" The Abbé Rémy felt about in his waistcoat pockets, plunging both hands in up to his armpits. "But," he Continued, "Marianne has not put any money in my pockets." "Never mind about that, my dear Rémy! At Versailles I will ask the king for a hundred crowns for the poor of Boulogne; the king will grant them me, and I will give them to you. You can borrow a few crowns from them until you return in the travelling carriage to Boulogne, and the thing is settled." "What! You think the king would give you a hundred crowns for my poor?" "I am sure of it." "On your word of honour?" "On my faith as a gentleman!" "My friend, that decides me then." "Thanks! You would not come for my sake, but you will for your poor. It seems to be better worth being one of your poor parishioners than your friend!" "I do not say so, my dear Antoine; but you know a curé who deserts his post must have a good excuse." "An excuse?... Oh! if you slept away, I do not say...." "What! if I slept away!" exclaims the Abbé Rémy, terrified. "Do you mean, then, to make me stop away the night? ... Postillion! hi! postillion!" "No, do not be afraid.... At the rate we are going we shall reach Versailles in an hour; we shall dine by two, and you can leave at three." "Why at three, and not at two?" "Because I must have time to see the king and ask him for the hundred crowns." "Ah! that is true." "Three hours for you to return by carriage from Versailles to Boulogne; you will be home at six o'clock." "What will Marianne say?" "Bah! when she sees you return with a hundred crowns direct from the king, Marianne will be happy and proud of your influence," "Upon my faith you are right.... You must tell me all the king says to you; this adventure will give her enough to talk of to her neighbours for a week to come."