Adolphine and
Madame Hochon parted from them with tears in their eyes; they alone
regretted Joseph and Agathe.
"They are gone!" said Francois Hochon, going, with the Rabouilleuse,
into Max's bedroom.
"Well done! the trick succeeded," answered Max, who was now tired and
feverish.
"But what did you say to old Mouilleron?" asked Francois.
"I told him that I had given my assassin some cause to waylay me; that
he was a dangerous man and likely, if I followed up the affair, to
kill me like a dog before he could be captured. Consequently, I begged
Mouilleron and Prangin to make the most active search ostensibly, but
really to let the assassin go in peace, unless they wished to see me a
dead man."
"I do hope, Max," said Flore, "that you will be quiet at night for
some time to come."
"At any rate, we are delivered from the Parisians!" cried Max. "The
fellow who stabbed me had no idea what a service he was doing us."
The next day, the departure of the Parisians was celebrated as a
victory of the provinces over Paris by every one in Issoudun, except
the more sober and staid inhabitants, who shared the opinions of
Monsieur and Madame Hochon. A few of Max's friends spoke very harshly
of the Bridaus.
"Do those Parisians fancy we are all idiots," cried one, "and think
they have only got to hold their hats and catch legacies?"
"They came to fleece, but they have got shorn themselves," said
another; "the nephew is not to the uncle's taste."
"And, if you please, they actually consulted a lawyer in Paris--"
"Ah! had they really a plan?"
"Why, of course,--a plan to get possession of old Rouget.
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