“At first everything went swimmingly. No one suspected anything; the only thing was that Rose loved me a little too much for my liking. She wasn’t of the common stock, I tell you. There was no ordinary blood in her veins; it must have come from some other girl who went wrong with her master.
“In short, she adored me. It was all coaxing and billing and cooing, and calling me pet names as if I were her little dog; so many pretty loving ways that I began to think rather seriously.
“I said to myself: ‘This musn’t go on, or I’ll let myself be caught.’ But I’m not easily caught, I’m not. I’m not the sort of fellow to be wheedled with a couple of kisses. In fact, my eyes were very much open, when she told me that she was in the family way.
“Crash! Bang! It was as though someone had fired a couple of shots into my chest. And she kissed me, kissed me and laughed and danced, fairly off her head with delight! I said nothing the first day, but I reasoned it out at night. ‘Well, that’s that,’ I thought, ‘but I must avoid the worst and cut her adrift; it’s high time.’ You see, my father and mother were at Barneville, and my sister, who was the wife of the Marquis d’Yspare, at Rollebec, two leagues from Villebon. I couldn’t take any chances.
“But how was I to extricate myself? If she left the house, suspicions would be aroused, and people would talk. If I kept her, the cat would soon be out of the bag; and besides, I could not let her go like that.
“I spoke about it to my uncle, the Baron de Créteuil, an old buck who had had more than one such experience, and asked him for a word of advice. He replied calmly:
“ ‘You must get her married, my boy.’
“I jumped.
“ ‘Get her married, Uncle! But to whom?’
“He quietly shrugged his shoulders:
“ ‘Anyone you like; that’s your business, and not mine. If you’re not a fool, you can always find someone.’
“I thought over this advice for a good week, and ended by saying to myself: ‘My uncle’s quite right.’
“So I began to rack my brains and search for a man; when one evening the justice of the peace, with whom I had been dining, told me:
“ ‘Old Mother Paumelle’s son has just been up to his larks again; he’ll come to a bad end, will that boy. It’s true enough that like father like son.’
“This Mother Paumelle was a sly old thing whose own youth had left something to be desired. For a crown she would assuredly have sold her soul, and her lout of a son into the bargain.
“I went to find her, and, very carefully, I made her understand the situation.
“As I was becoming embarrassed in my explanations, she suddenly asked me:
“ ‘And what are you going to give the girl?’
“She was a cunning old thing, but I was no fool, and had made all my preparations.
“I had just three little bits of land away out near Sasseville, which were let out from my three Villebon farms. The farmers were always complaining that they were a long way off; to make a long story short, I had taken back these three fields, six acres in all, and, as my peasants were making an outcry about it, I let them all off their dues in poultry until the end of each lease. By this means I put the business through all right. Then I bought a strip of land from my neighbour, Monsieur d’Aumonté, and had a cottage built on it, all for fifteen hundred francs. In this way I made a little bit of property which did not cost me much, and I gave it to the girl as a dowry.
“The old woman protested: this was not enough; but I held to it, and we parted without settling anything.
“Early next morning the lad came to see me. I had almost forgotten what he looked like. When I saw him, I was reassured; he wasn’t so bad for a peasant; but he looked a pretty dirty scoundrel.
“He took a detached view of the affair, as though he had come to buy a cow. When we had come to terms, he wanted to see the property, and off we went across the fields. The rascal kept me out there a good three hours; he surveyed the land, measured it, and took up sods and crushed them in his hands, as though he were afraid of being cheated over the goods. The cottage was not yet roofed, and he insisted on slate instead of thatch, because it required less upkeep!
“Then he said to me:
“ ‘But what about the furniture? You’re giving that!’
“ ‘Certainly not,’ I protested; ‘it’s very good of me to give you the farm.’
“ ‘Not half,’ he sniggered; ‘a farm and a baby.’
“I blushed in spite of myself.
“ ‘Come,’ he continued, ‘you’ll give the bed, a table, the dresser, three chairs, and the crockery, or there’s nothing doing.’
“I consented.
“And back we went. He had not yet said a word about the girl. But suddenly he asked, with a cunning, worried air:
“ ‘But if she died, who would the stuff go to?’
“ ‘Why, to you, of course,’ I replied.
“That was all he had wanted to find out that morning. He promptly offered me his hand with a gesture of satisfaction. We were agreed.
“But, oh! I had some trouble to convince Rose, I can tell you. She grovelled at my feet, sobbed and repeated: ‘It’s you who suggest this, you! you!’ She held out for more than a week, in spite of my reasoning and my entreaties. Women are silly things; once love gets into their heads, they
