“Yes, my child, it is true,” said the good man; “your husband, notwithstanding his gay humour and natural lightness of character, has a good heart; I am fond of him, and he will succeed me in the government of souls.” “Oh!” she cried, “I know that he’s a good fellow, and an honest one; but he is so light—he’s given me a deal of uneasiness, the rascal! I can’t help loving him, all the same; for he has his good side, if one can only get at it.” “Well said—well said, my child!” said Mathéus, touched by Gredel’s naïve answer; “Coucou Peter will yet do you honour; he will be spoken of in distant ages.” Proud at hearing this, Gredel hastened to lay the cloth in the dining-room, and Coucou Peter having again come in, they made a hearty breakfast of bread-and-butter, coffee, and steaks. Monsieur Schweitzer, hearing the clatter of glasses, came down hurriedly in his breeches, and, seeing the party at table, burst into a loud fit of laughter. “Very good!—very good!” he cried. “I’m glad to see you are quite yourself again!” Maître Frantz at once explained to him his approaching departure. “Well, my dear monsieur,” said the pastor, seating himself, “in spite of the great pleasure I should have felt in keeping you longer here, I cannot but approve your prudence. Kitzig would be sure to find you out, and all his affection for me would not prevent your being involved in a most unpleasant piece of business. Things being so, let us have a glass together. Gredel, here is the key of the little cellar; bring a bottle from under the firewood.” Every one ate and drank with a good appetite. Maître Frantz was sorry to leave such worthy people; but, about six, the time had come to separate. The good man embraced the pastor; Coucou Peter kissed his wife, who shed tears at parting with the rascal. They were conducted to the yard, where Bruno was in waiting. Mathéus being mounted, the Pastor Schweitzer shook him warmly by the hand, and Gredel could not detach herself from Coucou Peter’s neck. At length they departed, amid the blessings and good wishes of the whole family. CHAPTER XX. Maître Frantz and his disciple passed quickly through the town. The little houses scattered along the roadsides rapidly succeeded one another, with their barns, stables, and wooden steps with washing hanging upon them—ruddy-faced children asked alms, and old inquisitive women put their nodding heads out of the upper windows. At the end of a quarter of an hour they were in the country, breathing the free air, passing between two rows of chestnut-trees, listening to the song of the birds, and thinking still of the worthy Pastor Schweitzer, by whom they had been so well received—of soft-hearted little Gredel, who had wept so freely at seeing them depart.