"Pray say nothing of it," said he, cordially. "Your prayers are the very thing I should like to have, for, unfortunately, I am not good at them myself. As I pass a Calvary by the roadside I pull off my hat, in token of respect, you know, for what it represents; and had I had a bringing up like yours I might have had as pretty a turn for psalmody; but as the matter stands, why, you will be Jacques Bonneval, and I Bartholomé La Croissette to the end of the chapter. As for what I have done for you, why, it's nothing! I was coming this way, at any rate, and I've given you a lift; that's all."
"You may make light of it, if you will," said I, "but I know you have continually run risks for me; and depend on it, I shall never forget you. Adieu, my friend."
"Farewell, then," said he, "and take my best wishes with you. I hope you will now slip safely out of the country, but a good piece of it remains before you yet. Nor are your feet in good condition for walking."
"That has been provided for," said Antoine. "As soon as we get to the waterside we shall find a boat awaiting us, which will carry us to Bordeaux."
We then parted, La Croissette kissing me on both cheeks with the utmost kindness; and I turned away with Antoine. Looking round as we quitted the court, I had my last glimpse of his tall, meagre figure, as he stood with his hand on his hip, looking after me; and I thought how strange and disproportionate a return his kindness to me had been for mine to him, in lifting him up and saving him from a kicking horse on the way to Beaucaire. The whole scene at once started up before me--our family party in the wagon--the girls' blooming faces and gay dresses--the crowded road--the music--the bustle. Then my thoughts flew on to what followed--the humors of the fair--the crowded table at my uncle's--my betrothal to Madeleine. What a different future then seemed to lie before us to what awaited us now! Where was she? Should we meet soon? Might we not be separated for ever? I cannot tell how many thoughts like these passed through my mind as I limped after Antoine, who was himself somewhat awkward in his gait, like many of the silk-weavers from sitting so constantly at the loom.
Thus we passed through some of the by-ways of Montauban, and entered a small house.