"No doubt you've come from Paris, citizen?" said Corentin, approaching
the stranger with a certain ease of manner, and a pliant, affable air
which seemed intolerable to the citizen du Gua.
"Yes," he replied, shortly.
"I suppose you have been graduated into some grade of the artillery?"
"No, citizen, into the navy."
"Ah! then you are going to Brest?" said Corentin, interrogatively.
But the young sailor turned lightly on the heels of his shoes without
deigning to reply, and presently disappointed all the expectations
which Mademoiselle de Verneuil had based on the charm of his
appearance. He applied himself to ordering his breakfast with the
eagerness of a boy, questioned the cook and the landlady about their
receipts, wondered at provincial customs like a Parisian just out of
his shell, made as many objections as any fine lady, and showed the
more lack of mind and character because his face and manner had seemed
to promise them. Corentin smiled with pity when he saw the face he
made on tasting the best cider of Normandy.
"Heu!" he cried; "how can you swallow such stuff as that? It is meat
and drink both. I don't wonder the Republic distrusts a province where
they knock their harvest from trees with poles, and shoot travellers
from the ditches. Pray don't put such medicine as that on the table;
give us some good Bordeaux, white and red.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116