The Countess of Charny; or, The Execution of King Louis XVI

"No," he said, "she would refuse me."

After reflecting for an instant, careworn and motionless, a smile passed over his face. No doubt he had hit on a means of surmounting the obstacle which this sudden wealth had raised. He gathered up the coin scattered on the floor and poked about in the cushion with his knife for still more of the golden eggs. They were literally crammed into the lining.

He reckoned, and there were fifteen hundred and fifty louis, otherwise, thirty-seven thousand and two hundred livres or francs, and at the discount in the favor of gold, he was the master of one million three hundred and twenty-six thousand livres!

And at what a moment had this slice of good luck befallen him! When he was obliged to smash up the furniture from having no means to buy fuel for his wife.

What a lucky thing that Pitou was so poor, the weather was so cold, and the old chair so rotten!

Who knows what would have happened but for this happy conjunction of circumstances?

He stuffed the coin away in all his pockets, and scraping the splinters together he built a fire, which he managed to kindle with the unused flint and steel.

He was no more than in time, for in came Catherine and little Isidore, shivering with cold.

Pitou gave the boy a hug, kissed the woman's icy hands, and dashed out, crying:

"Get warm. I have a piece of business to go through."

"Where does Papa Pitou go?" asked the boy.

"I do not know, but judging by the gait he is going at, it is for you or me."

She might have said, "For you and me."

CHAPTER XXXII.

WHAT PITOU DID WITH THE FIND

It has not been forgotten that the Charny estate and the Gilbert and Billet farms were in the market at a price. On the sale day, Mayor Longpre bought for "Mr. Cash" the properties at the price of 1,350 gold louis, for the equivalent of assignats.

This happened on Sunday, the eve of the day when Catherine and Pitou were married.

At eleven on the following day, all the crowd were grieving that a fine fellow like Pitou should throw himself away upon a girl who was ruined utterly, with a child who was even more poverty-stricken than herself.

When Mayor Longpre had pronounced Citizen Pierre Ange Pitou and Citizeness Anne Catherine Billet united in wedlock, he beckoned little Isidore to him. The youngster had been sitting upon the desk, whence he slipped down and came to him.

"My boy," he said, "here are some papers which you will please give your Mamma Catherine when Papa Pitou takes her home."

"Yes, sir," said the little fellow, taking two papers in his little hand.

All was finished, only, to the great astonishment of the spectators, Pitou pulled out five gold pieces and handed them to the mayor, saying:

"For the poor of the parish."

"Are we rich?" asked Catherine, smiling.

"Happy folks are always rich," returned Pitou, "and you have made me the happiest man in creation."

He offered his arm to the wife, who leaned on it affectionately.

On going forth, they found the crowd to which we have alluded.

Unanimous cheers greeted the couple. Pitou saluted his friends and gave many hand-shakes; Catherine nodded to hers and gave many smiles.

Pitou turned to the right.

"Why, where are you going, dearest?" asked Madame Pitou.

"Come, my dearly beloved," he replied, "to a place you will be glad to see again."

"Why, you are going toward our old farm," she said.

"Come on, all the same," he persisted.

"Oh, Pitou!" she sighed, as he brought her over the well-remembered way.

"And I thought to make you happy," he sighed, too.

"How could you think to make me happy by taking me again to a place which was my parents', and might have been mine, but which was sold yesterday to some stranger whose name even I do not know."

"Only a couple of steps farther; that is all I ask of you."

They turned the corner of the wall, and had the farm entrance before them.

All the farm-hands, carters, cow-men, dairy-maids, plowmen, were there, with Father Clovis marshaling them, a bunch of flowers in his hand.

"I understand; you wanted me to be welcomed once more in the old home by those who, like me, will leave it forever. I thank you, dear."

Leaving her husband's arm and Isidore's hand, she ran forward to meet the people, who surrounded her and bore her into the house.

Pitou led Isidore, who was still carrying the papers, into the door-way, and they saw Catherine seated in the main room, staring about her as in a dream.

"In Heaven's name, tell me what they are saying!" she cried. "I do not understand a bit of what they are saying."

"Perhaps these papers which the child has for you will make it all clear, dear Catherine," replied the husband.

She took the papers from the little hand, and read one by chance:

"I acknowledge that the manor-house of Boursonnes and the lands dependent were bought and paid for by me, yesterday, on behalf of Jacques Philip Isidore, minor son of Catherine Billet, and that consequently said house and lands are the property of the said son.

    "Longpre, Mayor of Villers Cotterets."

"What does this mean, Pitou? You must understand that I can not make head or tail of it."

"Better read the other document," suggested the husband.

Unfolding the second paper, Catherine read as follows: