CHAPTER XXVIIL
HOW BROTHER GORENFLOT TRAVELED UPON AN ASS, NAMED PANURGE, AND
LEARNED MANY THINGS HE DID NOT KNOW BEFORE.
What made Chicot so indifferent to his own repast was, that he
had already breakfasted plentifully. Therefore, he sat Gorenflot
down to eggs and bacon, while he went among the peasants to look
for an ass. He found a pacific creature, four years old, and
something between an ass and a horse; gave twenty-two livres
for it, and brought it to Gorenflot, who was enchanted at the
sight of it, and christened it Panurge. Chicot, seeing by the
look of the table that there would be no cruelty in staying his
companion's repast, said,--
"Come, now we must go on; at Mélun we will lunch."
Gorenflot got up, merely saying, "At Mélun, at Mélun."
They went on for about four leagues, then Gorenflot lay down on
the grass to sleep, while Chicot began to calculate.
"One hundred and twenty leagues, at ten leagues a day, would
take twelve days." It was as much as he could reasonably expect
from the combined forces of a monk and an ass. But Chicot shook
his head. "It will not do," he said, "if he wants to follow me,
he must do fifteen."
He pushed the monk to wake him, who, opening his eyes, said, "Are
we at Mélun? I am hungry."
"Not yet, compère, and that is why I woke you; we must get on;
we go too slow, ventre de biche!"
"Oh, no, dear M. Chicot; it is so fatiguing to go fast. Besides,
there is no hurry: am I not traveling for the propagation of
the faith, and you for pleasure? Well, the slower we go, the
better the faith will be propagated, and the more you will amuse
yourself. My advice is to stay some days at Mélun, where they
make excellent eel-pies. What do you say, M. Chicot?"
"I say, that my opinion is to go as fast as possible; not to
lunch at Mélun, but only to sup at Monterau, to make up for lost
time."
Gorenflot looked at his companion as if he did not understand.
"Come, let us get on," said Chicot.
The monk sat still and groaned.
"If you wish to stay behind and travel at your ease, you are
welcome."
"No, no!" cried Gorenflot, in terror; "no, no, M. Chicot; I love
you too much to leave you!"
"Then to your saddle at once."
Gorenflot got on his ass this time sideways, as a lady sits,
saying it was more comfortable; but the fact was that, fearing
they were to go faster, he wished to be able to hold on both
by mane and tail.
Chicot began to trot, and the ass followed. The first moments
were terrible for Gorenflot, but he managed to keep his seat.
From time to time Chicot stood up in his stirrups and looked
forward, then, not seeing what he looked for, redoubled his speed.
"What are you looking for, dear M. Chicot?"
"Nothing; but we are not getting on."
"Not getting on! we are trotting all the way."
"Gallop then!" and he began to canter.
Panurge again followed; Gorenflot was in agonies.
"Oh, M. Chicot!" said he, as soon as he could speak, "do you
call this traveling for pleasure? It does not amuse me at all."
"On! on!"
"It is dreadful!"
"Stay behind then!"
"Panurge can do no more; he is stopping."
"Then adieu, compère!"
Gorenflot felt half inclined to reply in the same manner, but he
remembered that the horse, whom he felt ready to curse, bore on
his back a man with a hundred and fifty pistoles in his pocket,
so he resigned himself, and beat his ass to make him gallop once
more.
"I shall kill my poor Panurge!" cried he dolefully, thinking to
move Chicot.
"Well, kill him," said Chicot quietly, "and we will buy another."
All at once Chicot, on arriving at the top of a hill, reined
in his horse suddenly. But the ass, having once taken it into
his head to gallop, was not so easily stopped, and Gorenflot
was forced to let himself slide off and hang on to the donkey
with all his weight before he could stop him.
"Ah, M. Chicot!" cried he, "what does it all mean? First we must
gallop fit to break our necks, and then we must stop short here!"
Chicot had hidden himself behind a rock, and was eagerly watching
three men who, about two hundred yards in advance, were traveling
on quietly on their mules, and he did not reply.
"I am tired and hungry!" continued Gorenflot angrily.
"And so am I," said Chicot; "and at the first hotel we come to
we will order a couple of fricasseed chickens, some ham, and
a jug of their best wine."
"Really, is it true this time?"
"I promise you, compère."
"Well, then, let us go and seek it. Come, Panurge, you shall have
some dinner."
Chicot remounted his horse, and Gorenflot led his ass. The
much-desired inn soon appeared, but, to the surprise of Gorenflot,
Chicot caused him to make a detour and pass round the back. At
the front door were standing the three travelers.
