On re-entering the cloister, the archdeacon found at the door of hiscell his brother Jehan du Moulin, who was waiting for him, and who hadbeguiled the tedium of waiting by drawing on the wall with a bit ofcharcoal, a profile of his elder brother, enriched with a monstrousnose.
Dom Claude hardly looked at his brother; his thoughts were elsewhere.That merry scamp's face whose beaming had so often restored serenityto the priest's sombre physiognomy, was now powerless to melt the gloomwhich grew more dense every day over that corrupted, mephitic, andstagnant soul.
"Brother," said Jehan timidly, "I am come to see you."
The archdeacon did not even raise his eyes.
"What then?"
"Brother," resumed the hypocrite, "you are so good to me, and you giveme such wise counsels that I always return to you."
"What next?"
"Alas! brother, you were perfectly right when you said to me,--"Jehan!Jehan! _cessat doctorum doctrina, discipulorum disciplina_. Jehan,be wise, Jehan, be learned, Jehan, pass not the night outside of thecollege without lawful occasion and due leave of the master. Cudgelnot the Picards: _noli, Joannes, verberare Picardos_. Rot not like anunlettered ass, _quasi asinus illitteratus_, on the straw seats of theschool. Jehan, allow yourself to be punished at the discretion of themaster. Jehan go every evening to chapel, and sing there an anthemwith verse and orison to Madame the glorious Virgin Mary."--Alas! whatexcellent advice was that!"
"And then?"
"Brother, you behold a culprit, a criminal, a wretch, a libertine, a manof enormities! My dear brother, Jehan hath made of your counsels strawand dung to trample under foot. I have been well chastised for it, andGod is extraordinarily just. As long as I had money, I feasted, I lead amad and joyous life. Oh! how ugly and crabbed behind is debauch whichis so charming in front! Now I have no longer a blank; I have sold mynapery, my shirt and my towels; no more merry life! The beautiful candleis extinguished and I have henceforth, only a wretched tallow dipwhich smokes in my nose. The wenches jeer at me. I drink water.--I amoverwhelmed with remorse and with creditors.
"The rest?" said the archdeacon.
"Alas! my very dear brother, I should like to settle down to a betterlife. I come to you full of contrition, I am penitent. I make myconfession. I beat my breast violently. You are quite right in wishingthat I should some day become a licentiate and sub-monitor in thecollege of Torchi. At the present moment I feel a magnificent vocationfor that profession. But I have no more ink and I must buy some; Ihave no more paper, I have no more books, and I must buy some. For thispurpose, I am greatly in need of a little money, and I come to you,brother, with my heart full of contrition."
"Is that all?"
"Yes," said the scholar. "A little money."
"I have none."
Then the scholar said, with an air which was both grave and resolute:"Well, brother, I am sorry to be obliged to tell you that very fineoffers and propositions are being made to me in another quarter.You will not give me any money? No. In that case I shall become aprofessional vagabond."
As he uttered these monstrous words, he assumed the mien of Ajax,expecting to see the lightnings descend upon his head.
The archdeacon said coldly to him,--"Become a vagabond."
Jehan made him a deep bow, and descended the cloister stairs, whistling.
At the moment when he was passing through the courtyard of the cloister,beneath his brother's window, he heard that window open, raised his eyesand beheld the archdeacon's severe head emerge.
"Go to the devil!" said Dom Claude; "here is the last money which youwill get from me?"
At the same time, the priest flung Jehan a purse, which gave the scholara big bump on the forehead, and with which Jehan retreated, both vexedand content, like a dog who had been stoned with marrow bones.
CHAPTER III. LONG LIVE MIRTH.