When the general reached Les Aigues, whither he had gone in advance
of his troopers, intending to send away Courtecuisse, he was amazed at
discovering the impudent audacity with which the keeper had fulfilled
his commands. There is a method of obeying which makes the obedience of
the servant a cutting sarcasm on the master’s order. But all things
in this world can be reduced to absurdity, and Courtecuisse in this
instance went beyond its limits.
One hundred and twenty-six indictments against depredators (most of whom
were in collusion with Courtecuisse) and sworn to before the justice
court of Soulanges, had resulted in sixty-nine commitments for trial,
in virtue of which Brunet, the sheriff’s officer, delighted at such a
windfall of fees, had rigorously enforced the warrants in such a way
as to bring about what is called, in legal language, a declaration of
insolvency; a condition of pauperism where the law becomes of course
powerless. By this declaration the sheriff proves that the defendant
possesses no property of any kind, and is therefore a pauper. Where
there is absolutely nothing, the creditor, like the king, loses
his right to sue. The paupers in this case, carefully selected by
Courtecuisse, were scattered through five neighboring districts, whither
Brunet betook himself duly attended by his satellites, Vermichel and
Fourchon, to serve the writs. Later he transmitted the papers to Sibilet
with a bill of costs for five thousand francs, requesting him to obtain
the further orders of Monsieur le comte de Montcornet.
Just as Sibilet, armed with these papers, was calmly explaining to the
count the result of the rash orders he had given to Courtecuisse, and
witnessing, as calmly, a burst of the most violent anger a general of
the French cavalry was ever known to indulge in, Courtecuisse entered
to pay his respects to his master and to bring his own account of eleven
hundred francs, the sum to which his promised commission now amounted.
The natural man took the bit in his teeth and ran off with the general,
who totally forgot his coronet and his field rank; he was a trooper once
more, vomiting curses of which he probably was ashamed when he thought
of them later.
“Ha! eleven hundred francs!” he shouted, “eleven hundred slaps in your
face! eleven hundred kicks!--Do you think I can’t see straight through
your lies? Out of my sight, or I’ll strike you flat!”
At the mere look of the general’s purple face and before that warrior
could get out the last words, Courtecuisse was off like a swallow.
“Monsieur le comte,” said Sibilet, gently, “you are wrong.”
“Wrong! I, wrong?”
“Yes, Monsieur le comte, take care, you will have trouble with that
rascal; he will sue you.”
“What do I care for that? Tell the scoundrel to leave the place
instantly! See that he takes nothing of mine, and pay him his wages.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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