really fresh produce, to which nature has lent
fugitive but powerful charms when eaten as it were alive.

The butcher of Soulanges brought his best meat under fear of losing
Rigou's custom. The poultry, raised on the premises, was of the finest
quality.

This system of secret pampering embraced everything in which Rigou was
personally concerned. Though the slippers of the knowing Thelemist were
of stout leather they were lined with lamb's wool. Though his coat was
of rough cloth it did not touch his skin, for his shirt, washed and
ironed at home, was of the finest Frisian linen. His wife, Annette, and
Jean drank the common wine of the country, the wine he reserved from his
own vineyards; but in his private cellar, as well stocked as the cellars
of Belgium, the finest vintages of Burgundy rubbed sides with those
of Bordeaux, Champagne, Roussillon, not to speak of Spanish and Rhine
wines, all bought ten years in advance of use and bottled by Brother
Jean. The liqueurs in that cellar were those of the Isles, and came
originally from Madame Amphoux. Rigou had laid in a supply to last him
the rest of his days, at the national sale of a chateau in Burgundy.

The ex-monk ate and drank like Louis XIV. (one of the greatest consumers
of food and drink ever known), which reveals the costs of a life that
was more than voluptuous. Careful and very shrewd in managing his secret
prodigalities, he disputed all purchases as only churchmen can dispute.
Instead of taking infinite precautions against being cheated, the sly
monk kept patterns and samples, had the agreements reduced to writing,
and warned those who forwarded his wines or his provisions that if
they fell short of the mark in any way he should refuse to accept their
consignments.

Jean, who had charge of the fruit-room, was trained to keep fresh the
finest fruits grown in the department; so that Rigou ate pears and
apples and sometimes grapes, at Easter.

No prophet regarded as a God was ever more blindly obeyed than was Rigou
in his own home. A mere motion of his black eyelashes could plunge his
wife, Annette, and Jean into the deepest anxiety. He held his three
slaves by the multiplicity of their many duties, which were like a chain
in his hands. These poor creatures were under the perpetual yoke of some
ordered duty, with an eye always on them; but they had come to take a
sort of pleasure in accomplishing these tasks, and did not suffer under
them. All three had the c