‘Who can be coming down so late?’ he muttered.

But the priest, who neither saw nor heard anything, was now, in his turn, anxious to press on.

‘Stay! stay! there he is,’ eagerly added Brother Archangias.  ’He has just turned the corner.  See! he is in the moonlight now.  One can see him plainly.  It is a tall man, with a stick.’

Then, after a moment’s silence, he resumed, in a voice husky with fury:  ‘It is he, that beggar!  I felt sure it was!’

Thereupon, the new-comer having now reached the bottom of the hill, Abbe Mouret saw that it was Jeanbernat.  In spite of his eighty years, the old man set his feet down with such force, that his heavy, nailed boots sent sparks flying from the flints on the road.  And he walked along as upright as an oak, without the aid of his stick, which he carried across his shoulder like a musket.

‘Ah! the villain!’ stammered the Brother, still standing motionless.  ‘May the fiend light all the blazes of hell under his feet!’

The priest, who felt greatly disturbed, and despaired of inducing his companion to come on, turned round to continue his journey, hoping that, by a quick walk to the Bambousses’ house, he might yet manage to avoid Jeanbernat.  But he had not taken five strides before he heard the bantering voice of the old man close behind him.

‘Hie!  Cure! wait for me.  Are you afraid of me?’

And as Abbe Mouret stopped, he came up and continued:  ’Ah! those cassocks of yours are tiresome things, aren’t they?  They prevent your getting along too quickly.  It’s such a fine clear night, too, that one can recognise you by your gown a long way off.  When I was right at the top of the hill, I said to myself, “Surely that is the little priest down yonder.”  Oh! yes, I still have very good eyes. . . .  Well, so you never come to see us now?’

‘I have had so much to do,’ murmured the priest, who had turned very pale.

’Well, well, every one’s free to please himself.  If I’ve mentioned the matter, it’s only because I want you to know that I don’t bear you any grudge for being a priest.  We wouldn’t even talk about your religion, it’s all one and the same to me.  But the little one thinks that it’s I who prevents your coming.  I said to her, “The priest is an idiot,” and I think so, indeed.  Did I try to eat you during your illness?  Why, I didn’t even go upstairs to see you.  Every one’s free, you know.’

He spoke on in the most unconcerned manner, pretending that he did not notice the presence of Brother Archangias; but as the latter suddenly broke into an angry grunt, he added, ’Why, Cure, so you bring your pig out with you?’

‘Take care, you bandit!’ hissed the Brother, clenching his fists.

Jeanbernat, whose stick was still raised, then pretended to recognise him.

‘Hands off!’ he cried.  ’Ah! it’s you, you soul-saver!  I ought to have known you by your smell.  We have a little account to settle together, remember.  I have sworn to cut off your ears in the middle of your school.  It will amuse the children you are poisoning.’