The moment the name of Bonnebault was mentioned, Marie, who was in
love with the old woman's grandson, sprang into the vineyard with a
nod to her father and mother. She slipped like an eel through a break
in the hedge, and was off on the way to Conches with the speed of a
hunted hare.

"They'll do so much," remarked Tonsard, tranquilly, "that they'll get
their bones broken; and that will be a pity, for their mothers can't
make them any new ones."

"Well, perhaps so," said old Fourchon, "but see here, Vermichel, I
can't go with you for an hour or more, for I have important business
at the chateau."

"More important than serving three warrants at five sous each? 'You
shouldn't spit into the vintage,' as Father Noah says."

"I tell you, Vermichel, that my business requires me to go to the
chateau des Aigues," repeated the old man, with an air of laughable
self-importance.

"And anyhow," said Mam Tonsard, "my father had better keep out of the
way. Do you really mean to find the cows?"

"Monsieur Brunet, who is a very good fellow, would much rather find
nothing but their dung," answered Vermichel. "A man who is obliged to
be out and about day and night had better be careful."

"If he is, he has good reason to be," said Tonsard, sententiously.