"Oh, no! I don't love you, monsieur--not with love. I must tell you that, as you wouldn't come to the village any more if it wasn't so. But I do hope you'll come, monsieur; oh, yes! you must come to see the child you've adopted! I shan't forget that I'm only a peasant and you're a gentleman from the city; and I assure you that I shall never love you." As she finished, the girl turned away so that Auguste could not see the tears that fell from her eyes. But he was already far away, striding toward the house. He entered the living-room and said: "Come, Bertrand, we must return to Paris." "Return to Paris it is, lieutenant; I'm all ready to do four leagues an hour. Adieu, mamma; your wine's very nice. Some day when Schtrack has the time, I'll bring him down here to reconnoitre." The girl entered the room and tried to read Auguste's eyes; but he said to her without looking at her: "Adieu, Denise, we're off." "Already!" cried Denise; "you seemed to be so comfortable here!" "Yes, I am very comfortable here; that is true; but business calls me back. I will see you again, Denise; I will come again to see you." "You won't let so long a time go by without coming to see Coco?" "No, I promise you that. Take this--it's for him. I have no need to commend him to you, you are so kind!" "Oh! as to that, monsieur, she loves the child as if he was her brother." "But what is the use of leaving me so much money, monsieur?" "His house is falling to pieces; you must have it repaired; then have the little garden behind it enclosed, and buy the whole place for my little boy." "But, monsieur, this is three thousand francs that you've given me, and it won't take so much money for that." "Take it, I insist; and if it isn't enough,--here is my address in Paris. Write me, Denise, and you shall hear from me at once." Auguste tossed his card on the table, and kissed the child. "Good-bye, my kind friend!" said the little fellow, throwing his arms about Auguste's neck. Mère Fourcy made the young man a curtsy, which lasted as long as it took to count the three thousand francs. Denise glanced at him with an embarrassed air, expecting that he would kiss her; but he did nothing of the sort. After bidding the child adieu, he bowed to the others, sprang lightly to his saddle, and rode away with Bertrand, leaving the girl greatly depressed by the cold manner in which he had left her. "What does it mean?" she said to herself; "he stayed away because he was afraid he'd fall in love with me, and now he acts as if he didn't like it because he knows I'm not in love with him. What should I do, so that I can see him often?" As he trotted along beside his lieutenant, Bertrand, as his custom was, ventured to indulge in a few observations.