CHAPTER XXXI.
THE EASY-CHAIR.
Pitou would have pondered more deeply on what the doctor told him, onlyhe spied Catherine running up, with her boy in her arms.
Since there was no doubt that Aunt Angelique had died of privation,the eagerness of the neighbors to help her nephew had lessened. SoCatherine arrived most timely. As she might be considered the wife ofPitou, it was her place to attend to his aunt, which the good creatureset about doing with the same tenderness she had shown awhile before toher own mother.
Meanwhile, Pitou ran out to arrange for the funeral, which would be attwo days' time, as the suddenness of the death compelled retention ofthe remains forty-eight hours. Religious ceremonies being suppressedfor funerals as for marriages, he had only to do business with thesexton and the grave digger, after the mayor.
Before he departed, Catherine suggested that the marriage should bedeferred for a day or two, as it would look strange for an act soimportant and joyous as a wedding to be performed on the same day as heconducted his aunt's remains to the cemetery.
"Besides, my dear, it is bad luck to have a wedding while a grave isopen."
"Stuff," said Pitou; "from the moment I am your husband, I defymisfortune to get a grip on me."
"Dear Pitou, let us put it off till Monday," said the bride, holdingup her hand to him; "you see that I am trying to make your wishes suitproprieties."
"But two days is a deuce of a long time, Catherine."
"Not when you have been waiting five years."
"A lot of things may happen in forty-eight hours," moaned Pitou.
"My falling off in love can not happen, Ange; and as you pretend thatis the only thing in the world which concerns you--"
"Lord, yes, Catherine; the only--only thing!"
"Why, then, look here, Isidore, say to Papa Pitou: 'Do not be afraid,Papa Pitou; mamma loves you dearly, and will always love you.'"
The child repeated this in his pretty voice.
On this assurance, Pitou made no difficulty about going to the mayor's.He returned in about an hour, with all settled and paid for. With whatmoney he had left he laid in a stock of wood and food for a couple ofdays.
It was high time that the firing had come into the old, weather-wornhouse, where the wind poured in at many a chink, and they might perishof cold. Pitou had found Catherine half frozen when he got back.
According to Catherine's wish, the marriage was postponed until Monday.
The intermediate time passed with the pair mourning by the death-bed.
Despite the huge fire Pitou kept roaring, the wind came in so sharp andchill that Pitou acknowledged that if his aunt had not died of hungershe must have been carried off by cold.
The time came for the removal of the corpse, the transit not takinglong, as Aunt Angelique's dwelling adjoined the burial-ground.
All of that quarter and other representatives of the town went to thefuneral, which Pitou and Catherine led as the chief mourners.
When the ceremony terminated, Pitou thanked those attending in his nameand that of the dead, and they all filed before him, throwing holywater into the old maid's grave.
When left alone, Pitou looked round for Catherine, and saw her andIsidore kneeling on another grave where cypresses were planted. Itwas Mother Billet's. Pitou had dug those four cypresses in the woodsand transplanted them. He did not care to disturb them in this piousoccupation, but thinking that Catherine would be very cold at the endof her devotions, he determined to run on before and have a good fireblazing at her return.
Unfortunately, one thing opposed the realization of this goodintention--they were out of wood. Pitou was in a pinch, for he was outof money, too.
He looked around him to see if there was nothing good to burn. Therewas Aunt Angelique's bread-safe, bed, and easy-chair. The bed andcupboard were not unworn, but they were still good; while the arm-chairwas so rickety that nobody but the owner had ever risked themselves init. It was therefore condemned.
Like the Revolutionary Tribunal, Pitou had no sooner condemned a thingthan he proceeded to execute it.
Pitou set his knee to the seat, and seizing one of the sides, gavea pull. At the third of such tugs, it gave way at the joints. Ituttered a kind of squeak, as if an animal capable of feeling pain andexpressing emotion. If Pitou had been superstitious, he might haveimagined that the aunt's spirit had located itself in her old arm-chair.
But Pitou had no superstition except his love for Catherine. Thisarticle of furniture was doomed to warm her, and though it had bled ineach limb like an enchanted tree, it would have been rent to pieces.
He grasped the other arm with the same fierceness, and tore that fromthe carcass, which began to look dismantled.
Again the chair sent forth a sound strange and metallic.
Pitou remained insensible. He took up the chair by one leg, andswinging the whole round his head, he brought it down on the floor.
This split the seat in half, and to the great astonishment of thedestroyer, out of the yawning chasm spouted torrents of gold.
Our readers will remember that it was Angelique's habit to change allher coppers into silver, and them into gold pieces, which she stowedaway inside her chair.
When Pitou recovered from his surprise and dismay, his first impulsewas to run out to Catherine and little Isidore and bring them in toview the riches he had discovered.
But the dreadful terror seized him that Catherine would not marry himif he were a rich man, and he shook his head.
"No," he said, "she would refuse me."
After reflecting for an instant, careworn and motionless, a smilepassed over his face. No doubt he had hit on a means of surmounting theobstacle which this sudden wealth had raised. He gathered up the coinscattered on the floor and poked about in the cushion with his knifefor still more of the golden eggs. They were literally crammed into thelining.
He reckoned, and there were fifteen hundred and fifty louis, otherwise,thirty-seven thousand and two hundred livres or francs, and at thediscount in the favor of gold, he was the master of one million threehundred and twenty-six thousand livres!
And at what a moment had this slice of good luck befallen him! When hewas obliged to smash up the furniture from having no means to buy fuelfor his wife.
What a lucky thing that Pitou was so poor, the weather was so cold, andthe old chair so rotten!
Who knows what would have happened but for this happy conjunction ofcircumstances?
He stuffed the coin away in all his pockets, and scraping the splinterstogether he built a fire, which he managed to kindle with the unusedflint and steel.
He was no more than in time, for in came Catherine and little Isidore,shivering with cold.
Pitou gave the boy a hug, kissed the woman's icy hands, and dashed out,crying:
"Get warm. I have a piece of business to go through."
"Where does Papa Pitou go?" asked the boy.
"I do not know, but judging by the gait he is going at, it is for youor me."
She might have said, "For you _and_ me."