"I am right, then," said Martin, joyfully, "in blessing Arnauld, even though I do it in secret, since I am reaping every hour the happy fruits of his involuntary collaboration. I am somewhat of a philosopher, as you know, Monseigneur, and I always look on the bright side. Therefore I am bound to say that Arnauld has done me more good than harm at every point. He has been my wife's husband in the interim; but he has given her back to me sweeter than a day in June. He stole my property and my friends from me temporarily; but thanks to him, my property returns to my possession in increased amount, and my friends even more closely bound to me. In fact, he was the means of subjecting me to some very rough experiences, notably at Noyon and at Calais; but my life to-day seems only more agreeable for his meddling with it. Wherefore I have every reason to be, and I am, well satisfied with this good Arnauld." "You have a grateful heart," said Gabriel. "Oh, but he whom, before all and above all, my grateful heart ought to thank and to reverence," continued Martin, becoming serious again, "is not Arnauld du Thill, my involuntary benefactor, but you, Monseigneur, you, to whom I really owe all these benefits,--my country, fortune, friends, and wife!" "Again I repeat, enough of that, Martin," said Gabriel. "I ask only that you should have all these good things. And you have them, haven't you? Tell me again if you are happy." "I repeat, Monseigneur, I am happier than I have ever been." "That is all I desire to know," remarked Gabriel. "And now I must go." "What, go?" cried Martin. "Are you really thinking of going so soon, Monseigneur?" "Yes, Martin, there is nothing to keep me here." "Pardon me, of course there is nothing. When do you mean to leave?" "This very evening." "And you never told me!" cried Martin-Guerre. "And I, sluggard! was dreaming away in utter forgetfulness. But wait, wait, Monseigneur, it will not be long!" "Wait for what?" asked Gabriel. "Why, for me to make my preparations for departure, to be sure!" He rose nimbly and hastily, and ran to the door of the house. "Bertrande, Bertrande!" he called. "Why do you call your wife, Martin?" asked Gabriel. "To get my things ready, and to say adieu, Monseigneur." "But that's useless, my good Martin; for you are not going with me." "What! You are not going to take me, Monseigneur!" "No, I must go alone." "Never to return?" "Not for a long while, surely." "What fault have you to find with me, Monseigneur, I pray you tell me?" asked Martin, sadly. "None at all, my good Martin; you are the most devoted and faithful of servants." "Yet you do not take me with you," returned Martin, "although it is natural that the servant should follow his master, that the squire should attend upon his lord." "I have the best of reasons for it, Martin." "May I venture to ask what they are, Monseigneur?"