"And yet he would give all he owns to have you succeed! Look, you, when he made you promise that, he thought that was impossible which is quite possible to-day--not to-morrow perhaps, but this evening, now! We must strike the iron while it's hot, and you can see that there has been a great change already, as he and I came here together and he talks to me in such a friendly way." "How on earth did that miracle come about?" "It was a cane that performed the miracle, on my back; I'll tell you about it later. Meanwhile you must be very lady-like, a little bold, and have your wits about you--in a word be like your friend Jean in everything. Listen, I am going to begin!" Thereupon, Jean abruptly left Gilberte and went to the old man. "What do you suppose this young lady just whispered in my ear? That she absolutely insists on taking you home in her carriage. Ah! Monsieur de Boisguilbault, you can't refuse a lady; she says that the roads are too badly washed for you to walk, that you are too wet to wait here for your own carriage, that she has a cabriolet with a good horse, a genuine curé's mare that doesn't lose her temper or take fright at anything and goes fast enough when your arm isn't asleep and there's a lash on the whip. In quarter of an hour you'll be at home, instead of splashing through the mud and stones for an hour." Monsieur de Boisguilbault thanked the lovely widow warmly but would not accept; but Gilberte herself insisted, with irresistible grace. "I implore you, monsieur le marquis," she said, turning upon him her beautiful eyes, still frightened like those of a half-tamed dove, "do not pain me by refusing; my carriage is ugly, shabby and muddy, and so is my horse; but they are both strong. I know how to drive and Jean will take me home." "But it will delay you a long while," said the marquis; "your folks will be anxious." "No," said Jean, "here is monsieur le curé's page, who serves the mass and rings the bell for him; he's a sure-footed, sharp-eyed rascal, with no more fear of the water than a frog. He has wooden clogs on his feet a little stouter than yours, and he will go to Cuzion as straight and fast as a saw will cut a spruce board. He will tell them not to worry; that madame's in good company and that old Jean will bring her home. So that's settled!--Look you, young wide-awake," he said to Charasson, who yawned as if he would dislocate his jaw and gazed in bewilderment at Monsieur de Boisguilbault; "just come and let me rouse you a bit in the fresh air, and start you on your road." He dragged, almost carried Sylvain to a short distance from the house, and there, putting his leather apron over his shoulders, he said to him, pulling his ears briskly to fix his words in his memory: