"It looks to me very much like it, my friend." "Did you leave our money here?" "Alas! yes, in the desk. It was all there except these ten gold pieces that I have in my pocket." "Ah! the rascals! To the devil with signoras, fine eyes and reverences! Why did we leave our hotel?" "It was my fault, Bertrand, I realize it. It is my folly again that has caused this misfortune. But what's the use of talking? the harm is done." "We must enter a complaint, monsieur; we must obtain justice." "Enter a complaint, my friend, in a country where we are strangers, and when we have nothing with which to pay for obtaining justice, which is very dear everywhere?" "In that case, monsieur, we must allow ourselves to be robbed and say nothing, must we?" "That is the wisest course in this case, Bertrand." "It's very amusing!" "We must make haste, too, to leave this house, which was undoubtedly let to those sharpers, and of which we have smashed the door; for we may be asked by what right we are here, and be punished for breaking in as we did." "That would be the last straw! Ah! my poor old Schtrack, it would have been much better to stay with you!" "Courage, Bertrand, let us rise superior to disaster. We have nothing left--very good! that compels me to work. We will travel on foot; in that way one doesn't run the risk of making evil acquaintances as one does in a diligence. And then our baggage is lighter than ever, and each of us can say with the Greek philosopher: _'Omnia mecum porto.'_" "That must mean that he hadn't a sou, doesn't it, lieutenant?" "Pretty nearly that, Bertrand." "In that case we are getting to be mighty philosophical!" "Let's leave Turin and go elsewhere in search of prudence." "Ah! where shall we stop, monsieur?" XXV WHICH COVERS A PERIOD OF THREE YEARS Let us leave Auguste and Bertrand to pursue their travels, the one promising never again to allow himself to be led astray by the sly glances of the first pretty face he may meet; the other, swearing because his advice was not heeded, and reviling the sex which led his master into so many scrapes. You must forgive Bertrand, ladies, and pardon his ill humor; he really had some reason to distrust beauty. But if he had been twenty years younger, and some pretty creature had undertaken to make a conquest of him, who can say that, like his master, he would not have succumbed? Let us return to the village, to the little milkmaid, from whom Auguste's follies have kept us away too long; and may the picture of innocence and of true love give our eyes a little rest after that of the passions and intrigues of cities, and the hypocrisy and selfishness of society. It is like turning to a lovely landscape of Regnier after looking at one of Gudin's tempests; but, if the representation of the conflict causes us keen emotions, the sight of a pure sky and fields bright with blossoms brings sweet repose to our souls and often arouses pleasanter sensations within us.