"Emile, you arouse my pity. Let us leave this country constable and his bruises. I forgive him, and I authorize you to give him a handsome present so that he may hold his tongue, for I don't propose to introduce you to this neighborhood by an absurd scandal. But will you be kind enough to explain to me why you are apparently trying to organize a burlesque drama in the police court? What is this adventure in which you play the rôle of Don Quixote, taking Caillaud for your Sancho Panza? Where were you going so fast when you happened to be present at the carpenter's arrest? What caprice impelled you to deliver that man from the hands of the law and from my kindly intentions toward him? Have you gone mad in the six months since we last met? Have you taken a vow of chivalry, or do you propose to balk my plans and defy me? Answer seriously if you can, for your father is very serious indeed in his questions." "I should have many things to say in answer to you, father, if you questioned me concerning my feelings and my ideas. But this is a question of one particular fact of trifling importance, and I will tell you in a few words just what happened. I was running after the fugitive, to induce him to avoid the shame and grief of being arrested. I hoped to outstrip Caillaud and to persuade Jean to return of his own accord, accept your offers and submit to the law. As I arrived too late, and as I could not with loyalty urge the constable not to do his duty, I prevented him from doing it by exposing myself alone to the penalty of the offence. I acted on the impulse of the moment, without premeditation or reflection, impelled by an irresistible outburst of compassion and sorrow. If I did wrong, reprove me; but if I bring Jean back to you of his own accord, by gentle means and persuasion, within two days, forgive me, and confess that foolish brains sometimes have happy inspirations."