Broad daylight already made its way in through the dull panes of a skylight, and the sight of Bruno revived his courage. Bruno was a vigorous horse, with massive neck and shoulders, wide chest; short, solid, thick-set, with firm hocks; in a word, the worthy and robust bearer of the country Doctor. On seeing Maître Mathéus go by on Bruno, every one might have said— “There go the very best beast and the greatest philosopher in the country.” Frantz Mathéus saw, by his shining and well-rounded paunch, that he had eaten his double feed of oats; therefore, without dissertation of any sort, he put on his large leathern saddle, in one of the holsters of which he placed the copy of his synopsis; then, with a precipitation which proved his great desire to escape Claude Wachtmann’s eloquence, he led his horse into the barn, raised the bar, and opened the folding-door. But the anger and exasperation of the Doctor are not to be imagined when he saw the whole village gathered about the door, Jean-Claude Wachtmann at the head, Hubert the blacksmith on his right, and Christian Bauer on his left. His venerable face turned suddenly red, and his habitually calm and meditative eyes shot forth the lightnings of a noble indignation. He mounted abruptly into the saddle, crying— “Make way!” But the crowd did not stir, and Maître Frantz even thought he could perceive a mocking smile on all their lips, as if defying him to go. “Come, my friends, make way for me,” he said, in a less decided tone; “I am going to see my patients in the mountain.” This falsehood, so contrary to his system, pained him; yet the peasants, who knew his goodness, took no heed of it. “We know all,” cried fat Catherine, pretending to shed tears in her apron, “we know all! Martha has told us all—you want to leave the village.” Mathéus was going to reply, when Jean-Claude Wachtmann, with a single wave of his hand, imposed silence on everybody; he then planted himself in front of the Doctor to overpower him by his looks, majestically drew forth his spectacles from their case, pressed them down upon his big nose, smoothed out his paper with a grave air, once more looked around him to command the attention of the crowd, and began to read the following masterpiece in a solemn tone, pausing at the commas and full-stops, and gesticulating like a very preacher:—