ny under the rank
of a noble to keep them. The Dauphiness supposed this was all as it
should be; for she was apt, through life, to believe that the nobles
were by nature entitled to all things, and might give only such leavings
as they did not wish for, to inferior people: yet she was pleased, and
repaid the bailiff with a gracious smile, when he said that all laws
melted away before the wishes of a royal bride, and that these peasant
boys should have their rabbit-hutch and dove-cot henceforth, by special
permission.
None waved their caps more vehemently, none shouted "Long live the
Dauphiness!" more vigorously, as the cavalcade set forth again, than
Robin and Marc. When the last horseman vanished in the dust of the
road, the attention of the crowd turned upon the favoured family of
Randolphe. The poor man himself had retired overpowered, and no one
could tell where he was. Charles was with Marie already. But the boys
remained in the road; they were hoisted on the shoulders of their
neighbours, having first delivered the precious gold pieces into the
hands of the curd, lest they should lose Marie's treasure in the bustle.
Robin would not be carried a step towards home till he had been allowed
to speak to Jerome. He threw his arms round the neck of the
good-natured soldier, and said that it was he who had made Marie's
fortune. Then Jerome had to shake hands with every person in the crowd;
and every man who had a house or cottage begged Jerome to be his guest.
Jerome laughed, and said, that among so many he should not have known
what to reply, and how to choose his host; but that he and his comrades
were at Saint Menehould only for the occasion which was now passed, and
before night they would be twenty miles off.
Before sunset, accordingly, Jerome and the smoker were riding side by
side on the road to fresh quarters, each with a fine bouquet of spring
flowers at his breast, sent by Marie. They were talking of the events
of the morning, of the sudden rescue of a worthy family from the depths
of misery. The smoker could not be cheered even by what he had
witnessed; and he spoke as gloomily and sententiously as if the pipe
were now between his lips, and his words coming forth in a cloud of
smoke. Jerome could not but own, however, that there was much truth in
what he said, when he declared, "It is all very well, and I am glad this
one family is saved. But it is only one of many hundred thousand
miserable fami
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