Modestine And I - It Was Our Last Meal Together - Had A Snack Upon The Top
Of St. Pierre, I On A Heap Of Stones, She Standing By Me In The Moonlight
And Decorously Eating Bread Out Of My Hand.
The poor brute would eat
more heartily in this manner; for she had a sort of affection for me,
which I was soon to betray.
It was a long descent upon St. Jean du Gard, and we met no one but a
carter, visible afar off by the glint of the moon on his extinguished
lantern.
Before ten o'clock we had got in and were at supper; fifteen miles and a
stiff hill in little beyond six hours!
FAREWELL, MODESTINE!
On examination, on the morning of October 3rd, Modestine was pronounced
unfit for travel. She would need at least two days' repose, according to
the ostler; but I was now eager to reach Alais for my letters; and, being
in a civilised country of stage-coaches, I determined to sell my lady
friend and be off by the diligence that afternoon. Our yesterday's
march, with the testimony of the driver who had pursued us up the long
hill of St. Pierre, spread a favourable notion of my donkey's
capabilities. Intending purchasers were aware of an unrivalled
opportunity. Before ten I had an offer of twenty-five francs; and before
noon, after a desperate engagement, I sold her, saddle and all, for five-
and-thirty. The pecuniary gain is not obvious, but I had bought freedom
into the bargain.
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