“My dear child, I am going to tell you the whole truth. Monsieur Gérondif, who came to see us often and seemed to admire Louise’s beauty, came one day about nine or ten months ago, and offered the child a fine place in Paris, which he said that you wanted her to take.” “Ah! the liar!” “Louise liked the idea of going to Paris, because she said that that would bring her nearer to you, and she hoped to see you once in a while.” “Dear Louise!” “So she accepted; but while she was packing her clothes, monsieur le professeur whispered to me: ‘I am taking Louise away to remove her from the designs of my pupil, who means to make her his mistress.’” “What an outrage!” “‘And if he comes here, make him believe that she’s been with a relation of yours in Bretagne a long time.’” Chérubin rose and paced the floor; he was so suffocated by wrath that he could hardly speak. “What a shameful thing! to say that of me! to invent such lies! But what could his object have been? Do you know where he took Louise?” “Oh! to some very fine folks, so he told us.” “But who are they?” “Bless me! I didn’t ask that, my dear child, because I had so much confidence in the schoolmaster.” “So you don’t know where Louise is? Oh! I will find out! I will make him tell me!--I am dying with impatience; I wish I were in Paris now.--Adieu! my dear Nicole! adieu, Jacquinot!” “What, going already, my _fieu_? You have hardly got here!” “And he hasn’t drunk a single glass!” “I will come again, my friends, I will come again--but with Louise, whom I am wild to find!--Ah! Monsieur Gérondif! you say that I am a rake! We will see! They have all looked upon me as a child hitherto, but I’ll show them that I am their master!” Chérubin embraced Nicole, shook hands with Jacquinot, and, turning a deaf ear to all that those good people said to pacify him, he returned to his cabriolet, lashed his horse and drove rapidly back to Paris. On reaching home, he at once summoned Monsieur Gérondif, Jasmin and the concierge. From the tone in which he issued the order, and from the expression of his face, the servants did not recognize their master, ordinarily so mild and gentle. The groom went to call the tutor, who had just finished dressing, although it was midday. He went down to his pupil, thinking: “Monsieur le marquis undoubtedly wishes me to teach him something. Perhaps he wants to learn to write poetry. Mademoiselle Turlurette tells everybody in the house that my verses are so fine! I will have him begin with free verses; they are certainly easier to write, most assuredly.”