Valmond did not see the little man, but swung away down the dusty road,
reciting to himself couplets from 'Le Vieux Drapeau':
"Oh, come, my flag, come, hope of mine,
And thou shalt dry these fruitless tears;"
and apparently, without any connection, he passed complacently to an
entirely different song:
"She loved to laugh, she loved to drink,
I bought her jewels fine."
Then he added, with a suddenness which seemed to astound himself,--for
afterwards he looked round quickly, as if to see if he had been heard,--
"Elise Malboir--h'm! a pretty name, Elise; but Malboir--tush! it should
be Malbarre; the difference between Lombardy cider and wine of the
Empire."
Parpon, left behind, sat on the fence with his legs drawn up to his chin,
looking at Elise, till she turned and caught the provoking light of his
eye. She flushed, then was cool again, for she was put upon her mettle
by the suggestion of his glance.
"Come, lazy-bones," she said; "come fetch me currants from the garden."
"Come, mocking-bird," answered he; "come peck me on the cheek."
She tossed her head and struck straight home. "It isn't a game of pass
it on from gentleman to beetle."
"You think he's a gentleman?" he asked.
"As sure as I think you're a beetle."
He laughed, took off his cap, and patted himself on the head. "Parpon,
Parpon!" said he, "if Jean Malboir could see you now, he'd put his foot
on you and crush you--dirty beetle!"
At the mention of her father's name a change passed over Elise; for this
same Parpon, when all men else were afraid, had saved Jean Malboir's life
at a log chute in the hills.
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