Chapter 7 Fives

I had no worries, and it was easy to take revenge on my enemies; every circumstance prompted me to do so.Patience has said enough about my family that there is no need to mention even personal insults, which I dare not tell the truth.All I have to say is that the seven Mauprats will be on their horses in a quarter of an hour, reveling in the act of making an example of a man who has not paid their rent, and they think it best to hang him as an example. It didn't go so far, I don't know how, and I felt an irrepressible revulsion at asking eight people to avenge one.When I was about to do this (when I was irritated, I had made up my mind), an instinct of integrity that I couldn't articulate or explain myself took hold of me.Perhaps Patience's words unknowingly produced a salutary sense of shame in my mind.Perhaps his correct swearing at the nobility made me see some righteous thoughts.In a word, perhaps what I had hitherto regarded as an act of weakness and pity secretly began to appear more dignified and less despicable.

Anyway, I keep silent.I just beat Sylvain, punished him for leaving me, and forced him to keep quiet about my misfortune.The painful memory lay dormant, and once, towards the end of autumn, I was wandering in the woods with Sylvain.This poor Sylvain was very attached to me; in spite of my roughness he always followed me as soon as I left the castle.He defended me against all his mates, thinking that I was only a little impulsive, but not fierce at all.It is the meek and tolerant spirit of the masses that makes the arrogance and brutality of the great.We were catching larks, and my courtier, who was always on the lookout, came up to me and said:

"I saw the wolf tamer coming with the mole catcher." This warning makes me shudder.But I felt a kind of resentment working in me, and I went straight up to meet the wizard, perhaps a little relieved by the presence of his companion, a regular visitor to Mopra Rock, who I supposed should respect me and help me. The mole-catcher was called Marcus, and he made a living hunting stone martens, weasels, rats, and other beasts that jeopardized the inhabitants and local farmland.Not only did his workmanship benefit the region of Berry, but every year he traveled around La Marche, Nivernet, Limoussin and Saint-True, walking alone where good-hearted people appreciated his talents; Everywhere in the castle, or in the hut, he was entertained, for the profession was always fruitful, and in his family, from father to son, was honesty, and so did all his descendants.He has his hideaway, and the craft is guaranteed all year round.He traveled here and there with regularity as the earth revolves, and he could be seen reappearing at definite times in the same place which he had passed the year before, accompanied by the same dog and the same long sword.

This figure is as interesting in its type as Patience the wizard, and far more comical.The man was irritable, melancholy, tall, gaunt, bony, slow, dignified, and brooding.He was taciturn, and answered questions in monosyllables; but he never went beyond the bounds of the line, was courteous, said a few words, and then raised his hand to the tip of his hat as a sign of humility.Is it his character that makes him like this?Or was it the fear of losing a few of his many customers by a careless word in his wandering career that led him to this wise reservation?No one else knows.He could sleep in every house, go into every barn during the day, and take a place by the fire in every kitchen in the evening.He knew it all, especially because his brooding manner made people very casual with him, and he never transferred the affairs of one family to another.

If you want to know how strongly this character made an impression on me, I will tell you that I have seen several of my uncles and my grandfather take pains to get him to speak.From him they wanted to know what had happened at the house of M. Hubert de Mauprat, the object of their hatred and envy, at the Château Saint-Sever.Although Don Marcas (whom they call "Don" because of his mannerisms and arrogance like a bankrupt Spanish nobleman), I say, although Don Marcas is elusive in every way, "The Robber" The Moprats never miss an opportunity to cajole him further, hoping to wring something out of him about Moprat the "Budget."

No one could know Marcus's attitude to any one thing; short-sighted people assumed he disdained ideas.Patience, on the other hand, seemed so charmed by him that he was able to accompany him on a tour for weeks, which led one to suspect that there was magic in his mysterious appearance, and not just that his long sword and nimble dog magically used The mole and the weasel submit.People whispered of jelly with which he made suspicious beasts come out of their burrows and into traps; and people thought the magic good, not thinking that he would use it in crime. I don't know if you have seen this type of hunting.It is very interesting, especially in the attic where the hay is kept. The man and the dog climbed the stairs together, and ran across the planks with amazing speed; To fall under the hunter's sword; the hunter pokes at the bales, pierces the enemy with his sword: all this, commanded and done with dignity and grandeur by Don Marcus, is, I guarantee, strange and amusing.

When I saw this faithful friend, I thought I might offend the wizard, and approached boldly.Sylvain looked at me appreciatively, and I noticed that Patience hadn't expected my boldness.I pretended to approach Marcus and speak to him, so as to offend my enemies.Seeing this, he gently pulled away the mole catcher; he put his heavy hand on my head, and said to me calmly: "You have grown up recently, my beautiful sir!" I blushed, stepped back contemptuously, and said to him: "Be careful what you do, rough, you should remember that if you still have two ears, it's all because of my mercy."

"My ears!" Patience said with a wry smile. He alluded to my family nickname and said: "You mean my crooked legs, don't you? Patience! Patience! It's not the crooked legs of nobles, nor their ears, but their heads and purses that the common people will cut off, and the day may not be far away... ..." ① jarrets (leg bend) is the same as the last half of the word coupe-jarrets (robber). "Stop, Mr. Paccience," said the Mole-catcher in a solemn tone, "you don't speak like a philosopher." "That's right," replied the wizard, "and to tell you the truth, I don't know why I robbed the little boy. He should have had his uncles beat me to pieces; I whipped him in the summer because he did me A stupid thing; I don't know what happened to his family, but the Maupras lost a good opportunity to abuse their neighbours."

"You peasant," I said to him, "you know that a nobleman always takes his vengeance openly; I will not let anyone who is stronger than you punish you for insulting me; you wait two years, and I promise to kill you with my own hands." Hanging from the tree I know, the one in front of the Garzo Tower. If I can't do it, I'd rather not be a nobleman; if I spare you, I'd rather be called a wolf tamer." Patience smiled, and suddenly he became serious, and gave me a long glance that made his countenance extraordinarily attractive.Then, turning to his captors, he said:

"It's strange that there is something about this family. Look at the fiercest nobleman: he has more guts in some ways than the bravest among us. Ah! it's very simple," he added to himself. , "They grew up like this, and we, people tell us, we were born to obey...be patient!" He remained silent for a while, then aroused from his contemplation, and said to me in a tone of kindness and sarcasm: "Do you want to hang me, Mr. Thatch? Drink more soup, because you are not tall enough to reach the branch from which I hanged; so far... Maybe the day is far away."

"Not very well said, not very well said," said the Mole-catcher gravely; "come, make peace. Monsieur Bernard, forgive Patience; he's an old fellow, and a madman." "No, no," said Patience, "I hope he hangs me; he has his reasons, and I owe him that, and, to tell the truth, it may come sooner than expected. Don't be too hasty to grow up, sir. , because I am eager to grow old faster than I wish; since you are too brave to attack a defenseless man." I exclaimed, "You've done it to me! Haven't you done it to me? Tell me! Isn't that an act of cowardice?" He made a surprised gesture and said: "Oh! children, children! Look at the talk! The truth comes from the mouths of children." He brooded, murmured, and walked away, as if he was in the habit of doing so.Marcus took off his hat to me, and said to me in a cold voice: "He was wrong...to make peace...forgive me...rest...bye!" They both disappeared, and my association with Patience ended here, and it would not be resumed until a long time later.