"No, lieutenant; on the contrary, I am well aware that you would like to give pleasure to all the young beauties you meet; but it is that very pleasure that leads to regret and cares; and you yourself--for, as I was saying just now, the great Turenne----" Auguste had ceased to listen to Bertrand; he had put his head out of the window and was watching a young peasant who had just come out of the forest and was walking along the same road that our travellers were following, driving before her an ass laden with baskets, in which were a number of the tin cans in which milk is carried to the people of Paris by the village women. As the ass did not move as fast as Bébelle, Auguste drew in his horse and made him walk, in order to see the girl as long as possible. "Shall I touch Bébelle up?" asked Bertrand, surprised to find that they continued to go at a walk. "No, no--she's going well enough." "Yes, lieutenant, you will be very wise to turn virtuous--virtuous for you, I mean; if you don't, your income won't be enough to pay all your expenses. You have appointed me your steward, so I can venture to talk figures with you; and, although I'm not a great mathematician, I can see plainly enough that when you're forever dipping into a cash-box, it is soon empty. This year you don't seem to be lucky at that infernal game you play so often--you know, lieutenant, the game in which you turn the kings----" "Fresh complexion--a pretty figure--lovely eyes--it's extraordinary, I swear!" "And then the cashmere shawls you send to one, and the milliner's bill that you pay for another----" "And all these charms in a milkmaid!" "What's that? a milkmaid? Do you mean to say that you pay their bills too, lieutenant?" "Who in the devil said anything about bills? Just look at that sweet child on the road yonder." "Well! she's a milkmaid--that's the whole story!" "You don't see how pretty she is. And that sly smile, every time her eyes turn in our direction." "Perhaps she wants to sell us some cream cheese?" "Blockhead! to see nothing but cheese! I tell you that sackcloth waist, that double linen neckerchief, so high in the neck, conceal a multitude of treasures." "Treasures! treasures! Parbleu! one can guess very nearly what they conceal, although appearances are often deceitful. But such treasures aren't scarce; is it on account of the little milkmaid that we're going now like a load of flour?" "No, no, it's because I am beginning to get tired of the cabriolet. The weather is so fine; I feel that it will do me good to walk. We're only a little way from Monsieur Destival's now. Here, Bertrand, take the reins; I'll do the rest of the distance on foot." "What, lieutenant, you mean to----" Auguste had already stopped his horse; he jumped lightly to the ground despite Bertrand's grumbling, and said: "Go on with Tony." "But what shall I tell Monsieur Destival?" "That I am coming; I shall be there as soon as you." "But----" "Bertrand, I insist."