Certainly, if you like me well enough to want to go."

"I would go with you to the end of the world, all the more as you are now
sick and sad, and when I saw you first you were blithe and well. If I
must leave you, I hope at least to see you happy first."

The doctor came in just then to tell me that my poor Spaniard was so ill
that he could not leave his bed.

"I will have him cured at Berne," said I; "tell him that we are going to
dine there the day after to-morrow."

"I must tell you, sir, that though it's only a seven leagues' journey, he
cannot possibly undertake it as he has lost the use of all his limbs."

"I am sorry to hear that, doctor."

"I dare say, but it's true."

"I must verify the matter with my own eyes;" and so saying I went to see
Le Duc.

I found the poor rascal, as the doctor had said, incapable of motion. He
had only the use of his tongue and his eyes.

"You are in a pretty state," said I to him.

"I am very ill, sir, though otherwise I feel quite well."

"I expect so, but as it is you can't move, and I want to dine at Berne
the day after to-morrow."

"Have me carried there, I shall get cured."

"You are right, I will have you carried in a litter."

"I shall look like a saint out for a walk."

I told one of the servants to look after him, and to see to all that was
necessary for our departure. I had him taken to the "Falcon" by two
horses who drew his litter.

Lebel came at noon and gave me the letter his master had written for M.
de Murat. He brought his receipts and I paid everything without
objection, as I found him an entirely honest man, and I had him to dinner
with Madame Dubois and myself. I did not feel disposed to talk, and I was
glad to see that they got on without me; they talked away admirably and
amused me, for Lebel was by no means wanting in wit. He said he was very
glad I had given him an opportunity of knowing the housekeeper, as he
could not say he had known her before, having only seen her two or three
times in passing through Lausanne. On rising from the table he asked my
permission to write to her, and she, putting in her voice, called on him
not to forget to do so.

Lebel was a good-natured man, of an honest appearance, and approaching
his fiftieth year. Just as he was going, without asking my leave, he
embraced her in the French fashion, and she seemed not to have the
slightest objection.

She told me as soon as he was gone that this worthy man might be