Indeed, a lame man, whom I had taught to make mats, threw himself
before the horses of our carriage, crying out that we might as well
drive over him and kill him at once; and an old woman stood up almost
like a witch or prophetess, crying out: 'Ah! that is the way with you
all. You are like all the rest! You gave us hope once, and now you
are gone to your pleasure which you squeeze out of our heart's
blood.'
'Ah, good mother,' I said; 'believe me, it is not by my own will that
I leave you; I will never forget you.'
'I trust,' muttered Solivet, 'that no one is here to report all this
to that intendant de Roi,' and he hurried me into the carriage; but
there were tears running down his cheeks, and I believe he emptied
his purse among them, though not without being told by some of the
poor warm-hearted creatures that no money could repay them for the
loss of Madame la Comtesse.
'I did not know how sweet it is to be beloved,' he said to me. 'It
is almost enough to tempt one to play the role de bon seigneur.'
'Ah! brother, if you would. You are no foreigner, you are wiser and
would not make yourself suspected like me.'
He only laughed and shrugged his shoulders; but he was as good to our
poor as it is possible to be as we live here in France, where we are
often absolutely complelled to live at court, and our expenses there
force us to press heavily on our already hard-driven peasants. I
sometimes wonder whether a better time will come, when out good Duke
of Burgundy tries to carry out the maxims of Monseigneur the
Archbishop of Cambray; but I shall not live to see that day.
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