Max's letter made his innocence only the more certain, and Monsieur
Mouilleron himself escorted him back to the Hochons'. Joseph was
greeted with such overflowing tenderness by his mother that the poor
misunderstood son gave thanks to ill-luck--like the husband to the
thief, in La Fontaine's fable--for a mishap which brought him such
proofs of affection.
"Oh," said Monsieur Mouilleron, with a self-satisfied air, "I knew at
once by the way you looked at the angry crowd that you were innocent;
but whatever I may have thought, any one who knows Issoudun must also
know that the only way to protect you was to make the arrest as we
did. Ah! you carried your head high."
"I was thinking of something else," said the artist simply. "An
officer in the army told me that he was once stopped in Dalmatia under
similar circumstances by an excited populace, in the early morning as
he was returning from a walk. This recollection came into my mind, and
I looked at all those heads with the idea of painting a revolt of the
year 1793. Besides, I kept saying to myself: Blackguard that I am! I
have only got my deserts for coming here to look after an inheritance,
instead of painting in my studio."
"If you will allow me to offer you a piece of advice," said the
procureur du roi, "you will take a carriage to-night, which the
postmaster will lend you, and return to Paris by the diligence from
Bourges."
"That is my advice also," said Monsieur Hochon, who was burning with a
desire for the departure of his guests.
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