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his wife； Louise de Negrepelisse。
〃Chance gave us a traveling…companion； if we had but known！〃 said the
Countess。 〃Come in with us； monsieur。〃
Lucien gave the couple a distant bow and a half…humbled half…defiant
glance； then he turned away into a cross…country road in search of
some farmhouse； where he might make a breakfast on milk and bread； and
rest awhile； and think quietly over the future。 He still had three
francs left。 On and on he walked with the hurrying pace of fever；
noticing as he went； down by the riverside； that the country grew more
and more picturesque。 It was near mid…day when he came upon a sheet of
water with willows growing about the margin； and stopped for awhile to
rest his eyes on the cool； thick…growing leaves； and something of the
grace of the fields entered into his soul。
In among the crests of the willows； he caught a glimpse of a mill
near…by on a branch stream； and of the thatched roof of the mill…house
where the house…leeks were growing。 For all ornament； the quaint
cottage was covered with jessamine and honeysuckle and climbing hops；
and the garden about it was gay with phloxes and tall； juicy…leaved
plants。 Nets lay drying in the sun along a paved causeway raised above
the highest flood level； and secured by massive piles。 Ducks were
swimming in the clear mill…pond below the currents of water roaring
over the wheel。 As the poet came nearer he heard the clack of the
mill； and saw the good…natured； homely woman of the house knitting on
a garden bench； and keeping an eye upon a little one who was chasing
the hens about。
Lucien came forward。 〃My good woman；〃 he said； 〃I am tired out； I have
a fever on me； and I have only three francs； will you undertake to
give me brown bread and milk； and let me sleep in the barn for a week？
I shall have time to write to my people； and they will either come to
fetch me or send me money。〃
〃I am quite willing； always supposing that my husband has no
objection。Hey！ little man！〃
The miller came up； gave Lucien a look over； and took his pipe out of
his mouth to remark； 〃Three francs for a weeks board？ You might as
well pay nothing at all。〃
〃Perhaps I shall end as a miller's man；〃 thought the poet； as his eyes
wandered over the lovely country。 Then the miller's wife made a bed
ready for him； and Lucien lay down and slept so long that his hostess
was frightened。
〃Courtois；〃 she said； next day at noon； 〃just go in and see whether
that young man is dead or alive； he has been lying there these
fourteen hours。〃
The miller was busy spreading out his fishing…nets and lines。 〃It is
my belief；〃 he said； 〃that the pretty fellow yonder is some starveling
play…actor without a brass farthing to bless himself with。〃
〃What makes you think that； little man？〃 asked the mistress of the
mill。
〃Lord； he is not a prince； nor a lord； nor a member of parliament； nor
a bishop； why are his hands as white as if he did nothing？〃
〃Then it is very strange that he does not feel hungry and wake up；〃
retorted the miller's wife； she had just prepared breakfast for
yesterday's chance guest。 〃A play…actor； is he？〃 she continued。 〃Where
will he be going？ It is too early yet for the fair at Angouleme。〃
But neither the miller nor his wife suspected that （actors； princes；
and bishops apart） there is a kind of being who is both prince and
actor； and invested besides with a magnificent order of priesthood
that the Poet seems to do nothing； yet reigns over all humanity when
he can paint humanity。
〃What can he be？〃 Courtois asked of his wife。
〃Suppose it should be dangerous to take him in？〃 queried she。
〃Pooh！ thieves look more alive than that； we should have been robbed
by this time；〃 returned her spouse。
〃I am neither a prince nor a thief； nor a bishop nor an actor；〃 Lucien
said wearily； he must have overheard the colloquy through the window；
and now he suddenly appeared。 〃I am poor； I am tired out； I have come
on foot from Paris。 My name is Lucien de Rubempre； and my father was
M。 Chardon； who used to have Postel's business in L'Houmeau。 My sister
married David Sechard； the printer in the Place du Murier at
Angouleme。〃
〃Stop a bit；〃 said the miller； 〃that printer is the son of the old
skinflint who farms his own land at Marsac； isn't he？〃
〃The very same；〃 said Lucien。
〃He is a queer kind of father； he is！〃 Courtois continued。 〃He is
worth two hundred thousand francs and more； without counting his
money…box； and he has sold his son up； they say。〃
When body and soul have been broken by a prolonged painful struggle；
there comes a crisis when a strong nature braces itself for greater
effort； but those who give way under the strain either die or sink
into unconsciousness like death。 That hour of crisis had struck for
Lucien； at the vague rumor of the catastrophe that had befallen David
he seemed almost ready to succumb。 〃Oh！ my sister！〃 he cried。 〃Oh；
God！ what have I done？ Base wretch that I am！〃
He dropped down on the wooden bench； looking white and powerless as a
dying man； the miller's wife brought out a bowl of milk and made him
drink； but he begged the miller to help him back to his bed； and asked
to be forgiven for bringing a dying man into their house。 He thought
his last hour had come。 With the shadow of death； thoughts of religion
crossed a brain so quick to conceive picturesque fancies； he would see
the cure； he would confess and receive the last sacraments。 The moan；
uttered in the faint voice by a young man with such a comely face and
figure； went to Mme。 Courtois' heart。
〃I say； little man； just take the horse and go to Marsac and ask Dr。
Marron to come and see this young man； he is in a very bad way； it
seems to me； and you might bring the cure as well。 Perhaps they may
know more about that printer in the Place du Murier than you do； for
Postel married M。 Marron's daughter。〃
Courtois departed。 The miller's wife tried to make Lucien take food；
like all country…bred folk； she was full of the idea that sick folk
must be made to eat。 He took no notice of her； but gave way to a
violent storm of remorseful grief； a kind of mental process of
counter…irritation； which relieved him。
The Courtois' mill lies a league away from Marsac； the town of the
district； and the half…way between Mansle and Angouleme； so it was not
long before the good miller came back with the doctor and the cure。
Both functionaries had heard rumors coupling Lucien's name with the
name of Mme。 de Bargeton； and now when the whole department was
talking of the lady's marriage to the new Prefect and her return to
Angouleme as the Comtesse du Chatelet； both cure and doctor were
consumed with a violent curiosity to know why M。 de Bargeton's widow
had not married the young poet with whom she had left Angouleme。 And
when they heard； furthermore； that Lucien was at the mill； they were
eager to know whether the poet had come to the rescue of his brother…
in…law。 Curiosity and humanity alike prompted them to go at once to
the dying man。 Two hours after Courtois set out； Lucien heard the
rattle of old iron over the stony causeway； the country doctor's
ramshackle chaise came up to the door； a