“Thanks to those fellows, we keep the ball a-rolling,” said Socquard. “But folks are trying to imitate my boiled wine.”
“That would lead too far,” replied the innkeeper.
“Tolerably, yes; sometimes they’ll have a row, but that’s only natural for players.”
All heads were at the window of the Soudry salon which looked to the square. Recognizing the father of his daughter-in-law, Soudry came to the portico to receive him.
“Well, comrade,” said the mayor of Soulanges, “is Annette ill, that you give us your company of an evening?”
Through an old habit acquired in the gendarmerie Soudry always went direct to the point.
“No,--There’s trouble brewing,” replied Rigou, touching his right fore-finger to the hand which Soudry held out to him. “I came to talk about it, for it concerns our children in a way--”
Soudry, a handsome man dressed in blue, as though he were still a gendarme, with a black collar, and spurs at his heels, took Rigou by the arm and led him up to his imposing better-half. The glass door to the terrace was open, and the guests were walking about enjoying the summer evening, which brought out the full beauty of the glorious landscape which we have already described.
“It is a long time since we have seen you, my dear Rigou,” said Madame Soudry, taking the arm of the ex-Benedictine and leading him out upon the terrace.
“My digestion is so troublesome!” he replied; “see! my color is almost as high as yours.”
Rigou’s appearance on the terrace was the sign for an explosion of jovial greetings on the part of the assembled company.
“And how may the lord of Blangy be?” said little Sarcus, justice of the peace.
“Lord!” replied Rigou, bitterly, “I am not even cock of my own village now.”
“The hens don’t say so, scamp!” exclaimed Madame Soudry, tapping her fan on his arm.
“All well, my dear master?” said the notary, bowing to his chief client.
“Pretty well,” replied Rigou, again putting his fore-finger into his interlocutor’s hand.
This gesture, by which Rigou kept down the process of hand-shaking to the coldest and stiffest of demonstrations would have revealed the whole man to any observer who did not already know him.
“Let us find a corner where we can talk quietly,” said the ex-monk, looking at Lupin and at Madame Soudry.