Max had recognized Fario; but when he
came to his senses, with several persons about him, and felt that his
wound was not mortal, it suddenly occurred to him to make capital out
of the attack, and he said, in a faint voice,--
"I think I recognized that cursed painter!"
Thereupon Lousteau-Prangin ran off to his father, the judge. Max was
carried home by Cognette, young Goddet, and two other persons. Mere
Cognette and Monsieur Goddet walked beside the stretcher. Those who
carried the wounded man naturally looked across at Monsieur Hochon's
door while waiting for Kouski to let them in, and saw Monsieur
Hochon's servant sweeping the steps. At the old miser's, as everywhere
else in the provinces, the household was early astir. The few words
uttered by Max had roused the suspicions of Monsieur Goddet, and he
called to the woman,--
"Gritte, is Monsieur Joseph Bridau in bed?"
"Bless me!" she said, "he went out at half-past four. I don't know
what ailed him; he walked up and down his room all night."
This simple answer drew forth such exclamations of horror that the
woman came over, curious to know what they were carrying to old
Rouget's house.
"A precious fellow he is, that painter of yours!" they said to her.
And the procession entered the house, leaving Gritte open-mouthed with
amazement at the sight of Max in his bloody shirt, stretched
half-fainting on a mattress.
Artists will readily guess what ailed Joseph, and kept him restless
all night.
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