Lucas returned; his prediction was realized; there was
not a coach on the stand; it was raining in torrents. Time was passing;
already it was almost too late to enter the school, where masters and
pupils go to bed at nine o'clock.

"Put on thick shoes," I said to Lucas, "and come with me on foot."

Instantly I saw his face lengthen. He is no longer young and loves his
ease; moreover, he complains every winter of rheumatism. He made various
objections,--that it was very late; that we should "revolutionize" the
school; I should take cold; Monsieur Armand could not be very ill if he
wrote himself; in short, it was clear that my plan of campaign did not
suit my old retainer.

Monsieur Dorlange very obligingly offered to go himself in my place and
bring me word about Armand; but that did not suit me at all; I felt that
I _must_ see for myself. Having thanked him, I said to Lucas in a tone
of authority:--

"Get ready at once, for one thing is true in your remarks: it is getting
late."

Seeing himself driven into a corner, Lucas raised the standard of
revolt.

"It is not possible that madame should go out in such weather; and I
don't want monsieur to scold me for giving in to such a singular idea."

"Then you do not intend to obey me?"

"Madame knows very well that for anything reasonable I would do what she
told me if I had to go through fire to obey her."

"Heat is good for rheumatism, but rain is not," I said; then, turning to
Monsieur Dorlange, I added: "As you were so kind as to offer to do this
errand alone, may I ask you to give me your arm and come with me?"

"I am like Lucas," he said, "I do not think this excursion absolutely
necessary; but as I am not afraid of being scolded by Monsieur de
l'Estorade, I shall have the honor to accompany you."

We started. The weather was frightful; we had hardly gone fifty steps
before we were soaked in spite of Lucas's huge umbrella, with which
Monsieur Dorlange sheltered me at his own expense. Luckily a coach
happened to pass; Monsieur Dorlange hailed the driver; it was empty.
Of course I could not tell my companion that he was not to get in; such
distrust was extremely unbecoming and not for me to show. But you know,
my dear friend, that showers of rain have helped lovers from the days
of Dido down. However, Monsieur Dorlange said nothing: he saw my anxiety
and he had the good taste not to attempt conversation, breaking the
silence only from time to time with casual