_Noire_.--However, what estates are there at La Roche-Blanche?"
"Oh! most of the people live in caves, monsieur; in a sort of caverns,
dug out of the cliffs."
"You see, messieurs, that there’s no resemblance--caverns! And I have a
magnificent château!--You know the town of Saint-Amand, I trust?"
"Saint-Amand-Talende? Yes, messieurs; it’s but a few leagues from here."
"Well, my château is near there; it must be visible from a distance,
because----"
"Oh! let us go to our dinner, for God’s sake!" cried Alfred. "Your
château has given me indigestion already, before I have seen it."
"Yes, yes, let us not stay here."
As he spoke, Robineau cast a contemptuous glance at the stranger, who,
instead of lowering his eyes, frowned and looked after the Seigneur de
la Roche-Noire. That gentleman made haste to leave the room, saying to
the inn-keeper:
"Why do you have people like that in your house?"
"Like what, monsieur?"
"Parbleu! like that beggar who is sitting in your common room, and who
didn’t even rise when we came in."
"He is not a beggar, monsieur, he’s a traveller."
"Well, he’s a very neat, attractive person, your traveller! He has a
most insolent air, too; and if I hadn’t been afraid of--of compromising
myself, I would have taught him that that isn’t the way to look at a man
like me."
"Oh! Robineau, don’t play the fire-eater, I beg," said Alfred, seating
himself at the table; "since you have had a château, you want to
intimidate and crush everybody. Do you think that wealth gives you the
right to play the master everywhere?"
"There’s no question of that. I want to be treated politely, that’s all.
It seems to me that that isn’t too much to ask."
"But were you very polite yourself, Monsieur Jules, to that poor
fellow?" asked Edouard. "As soon as you saw him, you insisted on
leaving the room. He probably noticed the scornful glances you cast at
him. The unfortunate are more sensitive than other people, because they
constantly dread humiliation."
"Bah! let us not talk about that man any more. In truth, I have too many
things on my mind to pay attention to such creatures. Let us eat
quickly, messieurs, so that we may arrive at my place the sooner."
"Choke yourself to death, if you choose; I propose to dine quietly.
Remember that it’s only two o’clock! we have plenty of time!"
"But why go on foot? Let us keep the carriage, and we will hire other
horses."
"Oh! we are tired of being in a carriage; it will be much pleasanter to
walk these last two or three leagues and admire the landscape and the
peasant women; for you must find out what sort of neighbors you have to
deal with."
"Then we will leave the chaise and our luggage here, and I will send my
people to fetch them to-morrow.--However, messieurs, I am going to send
François ahead, to have our apartments made ready."
"Send François ahead, if you choose."
Robineau left the table and went in search of his valet; he led him
aside and said to him:
"François, you are to go on to my château in advance of us."
"Yes, monsieur. Where is it, monsieur?"
"Take the Saint-Amand road and inquire. Parbleu! it must be well known."
"Oh, yes! I will find it, monsieur."
"You will tell the concierge that his new master will soon arrive, with
two young gentlemen of his acquaintance."
"Yes, monsieur."
"You will tell him to make all preparations to receive us--in a fitting
manner."
"Yes, monsieur; I will tell him to make the beds."
"You will give him to understand, as if it were your own idea, that I am
not insensible to compliments, and that it would be well for him to make
me a speech."
"Yes, monsieur, I will tell him that you told me you would not be
insensible to a speech."
"No, you idiot! Don’t say that I told you that, but that you guessed
it."
"Oh! I understand, monsieur."
"Then, François, you will go about the neighborhood, to all the
peasants, and tell them also of my arrival; you will impress upon them
that I am very rich, a very great man."
"Must I say that you are great?"
"I mean generous; that I intend to make _rosières_."
"Yes, monsieur, I will tell them that you intend to have _rosières_ made
for them."
"And that if they should bring me bouquets, if they should give me a
little reception, with a discharge of firearms and shouts and dances, it
could not fail to give me pleasure."
"Very well, monsieur; I will tell them that you want a reception that
you don’t know anything about."
"Yes, that’s just it; in short, François, stir all the people up."
"Yes, monsieur, never fear; you shall be satisfied."
François started for La Roche-Noire, and Robineau, enchanted with his
idea, went upstairs again to his two companions, rubbing his hands. He
hurried them so that at last they left the table and went down to the
courtyard. The stranger was filling his pipe.
"We are going," said Robineau; "we leave my travelling chaise here, with
our trunks and luggage, monsieur l’aubergiste. François, my valet, will
come to-morrow to get everything, with a horse to draw the carriage;
these gentlemen wish to walk the rest of the way."
"Oh! you are going to see a beautiful country, messieurs."
"Yes, but it would be well for us to know in which direction we must
go."
"There’s a pleasant crossroad through the mountains to Saint-Saturnin,
which is only half a league from Saint-Amand; and then there’s the main
road to Issoire and Saint-Flour."
"No; no main roads," said Edouard; "we want something varied,
picturesque, even terrible!"
"One moment, messieurs; I don’t propose to walk on the brink of
precipices, myself! Perhaps it would be wiser to take a guide through
this region, with which we are entirely unacquainted."
The stranger, having overheard Robineau’s last words, suddenly
approached the three young men, and said, without removing his hat:
"If you need a guide, messieurs, I can serve you; for I have done
nothing but stroll about the neighborhood for a week, and I am beginning
to know it well."
Alfred and Edouard hesitated; but Robineau, to whom the stranger’s face
was most unpleasant, replied hastily:
"No, no, we don’t need anybody. I was joking; we are big enough to find
our way ourselves."
"As you please," the stranger replied; and, putting his pipe in his
mouth, he walked away from the inn. A few moments later, the three young
men, having commended their effects to the inn-keeper’s care, left
Clermont, and took the crossroad said to lead to Saint-Amand.
VII
A WALK THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS
On leaving Clermont, the three travellers followed at first the road
that had been pointed out to them as leading to the little town of
Saint-Amand. But they had walked barely half a league into the
mountains, when the desire to obtain a fine view, to climb a rock, or to
take a more picturesque path, led them insensibly away from the road
they should have followed. In vain did Robineau, who did not share the
enthusiasm of his companions for the varied beauties of the landscape,
sometimes wild and sometimes cultivated, stop again and again, and
exclaim angrily:
"That isn’t the way, messieurs! You’re going astray; we shall lose our
road and walk a hundred times farther than we need."
But Alfred and Edouard did not listen to him; they continued to go their
own way, and, pausing a moment on the summit of some hill, they would
cry:
"What a picturesque country! What a variety of scenery! On one side
steep rocks, barren mountains, and a calcareous soil, of volcanic
origin; at our feet green pastures, vineyards, fields, trees laden with
fruit!"
"Let us go higher," Edouard said, "to the top of yonder hill; it seems
to me that I see a field of grain."
"Oh! that would be curious, we must see that," Alfred replied, following
Edouard; and they scaled the rocks, running and jumping, and laughing
all the time; while Robineau, who had remained behind, made a horrible
grimace, saying:
"It seems to me, messieurs, that my château isn’t perched up there. You
will have time enough to make excursions in the neighborhood when we are
settled in my château. It’s ridiculous to tire yourselves out climbing
so high!"
The two friends continued their ascent; they reached the top, which
seemed to be more than a league in circumference, and there in fact they
found a large field of grain. Engrossed by the pleasure which that
magnificent prospect afforded them, Alfred and Edouard stopped. They
smiled at each other; they were happy! And when one is conscious of a
sentiment of pleasure, one tries to make it last a long while, to detain
it in one’s soul. It is rare that one is happy in the present! We almost
always rejoice in dreams of the future.
Robineau seated himself with a distressed air on a block of stone, and
watched his companions, who were more than a hundred feet above him.
Alfred beckoned to him to join them.
"Come up here!" he shouted; "it’s superb! You can see the whole
country!"
"Can you see my château?" shouted Robineau.
"Oh! we can see a dozen!"
These words induced the new landed proprietor to climb the hill. He
reached the top drenched with perspiration, and mopped his brow as he
looked about.
"Well! are you sorry that you came up?" said Alfred.
"Isn’t it worth while to tire oneself a bit for this, eh, Monsieur
Jules?"
"It is very pretty, messieurs, I agree; you can see a long distance. But
I have seen just as much in Messieurs Daguerre and Bouton’s Diorama."
"The Diorama is certainly a beautiful thing, my friend; it is impossible
to carry illusion and perfection of detail any farther; but art should
not interfere with our admiration of nature."
"You may say what you please, messieurs, but I prefer the Diorama; there
at least I have an explanation of what I see; but here I have no idea
what I am looking at.--There’s a village yonder, and I don’t know what
village it is."
"Wait a moment! here comes a worthy peasant who will be our cicerone."
A villager approached, with a spade and pickaxe over his shoulder. He
was about to descend the hill. Alfred called him and he came toward them
touching his hat. The peasants are much more polite in Auvergne than in
the suburbs of Paris.
"Will you be kind enough to tell us, my good man, the name of the little
town we see yonder, between two streams?"
"That is Saint-Amand, messieurs. It’s a pretty little town. The little
stream you see over here is the Veyre, which rises at Pagnia, a village
over in this direction; it runs into the Mone, and they both run into
the Allier. The Mone comes from Saint-Saturnin, half a league from
Saint-Amand. See, where I’m pointing."
"What sort of a place is Saint-Saturnin?"
"Oh! it’s a big village; it used to be a town, and a fortified town
too."
"Is there a château thereabout?" inquired Robineau.
"Oh, yes, monsieur; there’s a castle."
"Called La Roche-Noire?"
"No, monsieur, no; that one’s the Château of Saint-Saturnin."
"And La Roche-Noire, where is that?"
"You mean La Roche-Blanche, I suppose, don’t you?--That’s that little
village over there."
"I am not talking about your Roche-Blanche!--What astonishing creatures
these Auvergnats are! they absolutely insist that black and white
(_noir_ and _blanc_) are the same thing!"
"_Dame!_ then I don’t know, monsieur."
"And in this direction, my good man?"
"That’s the village of Chanonat, monsieur."
"Chanonat!" cried Edouard; "where Delille was born?"
"Delille?" replied the peasant; "as to that, I can’t say, monsieur. What
did this Delille do? Wasn’t he a vine-dresser? Didn’t he make wine?"
"No, my good man; he made something better than wine; he was a poet! But
he loved the fields; and, like another Virgil, he sang the praises of
agriculture in his noble verses!"
"I never knew him, monsieur."
Robineau turned away with a shrug, muttering:
"What fools these bright men are! The idea of talking about a poet to
this countryman who doesn’t know about anything except his ducks and his
wife and children! I shall never do anything so stupid as that!"
Then, turning to the peasant once more, he said:
"My dear friend, these gentlemen have asked you to name all these
places--that’s all right, but they forget the most essential thing,
which is to ask the shortest way to Saint-Amand, and consequently to my
château, which is close by."
"Oh! messieurs, you want to go down the hill first, then bear to your
left; you’ll see Le Crest, and it ain’t far from there to
Saint-Amand.--Good-day, messieurs."
"Thanks, my good man."
The peasant went his way, and Robineau, after looking at his watch,
cried:
"Come, come, messieurs, forward! Do you know what time it is? Half-past
five--think of that!"
"Well! it’s light until almost nine now."
"Light! Oh! that depends on what sort of road you are on. At all events,
we haven’t arrived yet."
"Adieu then, delightful spot!" said Edouard with a sigh; "how I should
have liked to see the sunset from here!"
"That’s it! and we should sleep in the open air!"
"Upon my word, this place inspires me! I feel in the mood for writing; I
could compose some verses on this view."
"You can write a poem some other time, my dear Edouard; you can come
here again and gaze at the sun and moon and whatever you please; but for
the moment, I entreat you, let us go in search of my château, which I am
beginning to be very much worried about."
As he spoke, Robineau seized Edouard’s arm and led him away, calling
Alfred, and trying to take his arm as well.
"Why in the devil do you cling to us like this?" demanded Alfred,
pulling away from Robineau’s grasp.
"Because, my dear fellow, if we three hold on to one another, we are
firmer on our feet and less in danger of slipping."
"Do you imagine that we are walking on ice?--Say rather that you’re
afraid we shall escape from you again."
"Suppose that I were, messieurs? Isn’t it quite natural that I should be
impatient to see my property?"
"What do a few hours sooner or later matter?"
"My dear Alfred, you talk like a man with a hundred thousand francs a
year, who is accustomed to wealth, who is even surfeited with the
pleasures it affords; but I am still a perfect novice as to that; I am
in haste to be happy, and to me the loveliest situations, the most
wonderful views will never possess the charm that I shall feel at the
first sight of the domain I have purchased."
"I can understand that," said Edouard; "forward, messieurs."
For some time they went on without stopping; but soon a winding path
appeared, between perpendicular rocks whereon they saw goats quickly
leaping wide spaces, then standing motionless for several minutes on the
very brink of a precipice. Edouard could not refrain from stopping once
more to contemplate that picture.
"Oh! messieurs, you must agree that this is superb," he cried; "that
there is something most majestic in this wild spot. One would think that
we were a long, long distance from the world!"
"And so we are, for I don’t see a person or a house," said Robineau,
looking gloomily about.
"There is something indescribably grand, something antique about this
narrow path between these crags; it carries me back to other ages; it
seems to me that I shall see Œdipus and Laius meet in this fatal
road!"
"Ah! if we fall foul of the Greeks we shall never have done with them,"
said Robineau, stamping the ground impatiently.
"For my part, messieurs," said Alfred, "I think that it would be very
pleasant to walk here with a pretty woman. We have not met a soul for
quarter of an hour! It is delightful! When you come to an attractive
spot, you could stop and exchange kisses and dilate on the beauties of
nature, and you need not fear to be surprised, as you are likely to be
in all the country districts about Paris, where those infernal peasants
spring up from a potato field just when you least expect it.--Don’t you
agree with me, Robineau? I say--suppose you had Fifine here?"
"If I had Fifine, I would make her walk at all events! and she wouldn’t
stop every minute to look at a little pile of moss, or a stone that has
broken off the cliff and threatens to fall on our heads!"
"So Fifine is not romantic, eh?--Still, my friend, ladies in general are
very fond of making love in the open fields. The turf, the green leaves,
a nice soft, dark spot--all these things inspire one and arouse one’s
emotions; it’s astonishing how amorous the country makes me!"
"Oh! messieurs, how young you are, what children!"
"May we long be children! The sweetest sensations are always those that
remind us of our youth!"
"Let us go on, messieurs, let us go on, I beg. I see nothing very pretty
in this rocky road.--Well! Monsieur Edouard, what are you looking at in
the air?"
"Why, don’t you see that goat standing on the very edge of the
precipice? It seems to me that its feet hardly touch the ground; and it
puts out its head and gazes undismayed into the vast space over which it
is almost suspended!"
"Oh! this is too much, messieurs! As if you had never seen goats before!
The idea of wasting your time watching them! Parbleu! they’re not made
any differently here from those at the Jardin des Plantes; indeed,
they’re not so handsome. If you should see a bear now, or a lion, why,
you might very well stop to gaze at him!"
"Oh! I am very sure that you wouldn’t stop even for that!"
"This infernal road will never come to an end! That peasant must have
directed us wrong. We shall end by going astray, by losing ourselves in
these mountains.--Ah! how sorry I am now that we didn’t take a guide!"
"It’s your own fault; why did you refuse to accept the services of that
man who offered?"
"Whom do you mean? that beggar, that miserable fellow who didn’t even
take off his hat when he spoke to us?"
"Is it necessary for a guide to study good manners?"
"At least it is necessary that he shouldn’t have the manners of a
brigand; and that’s the impression that man produced on me. Didn’t you
notice those underhand glances that he gave us? and that big stick that
he carried in his hand?"
"What! you were afraid of that man, when there were three of us?"
"No, it isn’t a question of being afraid! But how do you know that he
hasn’t friends, confederates in the mountains? He could have taken us
wherever he chose, and all of a sudden a dozen gentlemen of his stamp
would have fallen upon us."
"Oh! my poor Robineau! I see that you will never take a walking trip
around the world!"
"Faith! I confess that I prefer riding in a carriage to walking; you go
forward, at all events--you make some progress. But with you, I have to
stop every second; and with all this I see no more of a château than
there is in my hand!--Here it is almost seven o’clock, and I am
beginning to be very tired."
"And I to be very hungry," said Alfred; "evidently the air in these
mountains is good for the digestion."
The two friends could not help laughing at Robineau’s face, as he stared
about, sighing dolefully. However, they went on, left the path behind,
and seeing a village on the shore of a lake, bent their steps in that
direction.
"We will ask about my château in this village," said Robineau.
"We will have something to eat there, too," said Alfred, "for the walk
we have taken has given me an appetite."
"Yes, this walk has been very pleasant! I am sure that we have gone more
than six leagues out of our way!"
They drew near the shore of the lake on which the village was built. The
peasants sat in front of their cottages; there were old women spinning,
young women sewing, and children playing and rolling about on the
ground.
"They are a little dark," said Alfred as he scrutinized the young women;
"however they are not bad-looking--bright eyes and white teeth; their
method of arranging their hair is original; and with the little straw
hats, set back and tied under the chin, one would almost take them for
Englishwomen.--Come, messieurs, let us go on; I fancy that there are no
inns in this place, so that we must ask hospitality at the hands of
these good people, like the chevaliers of old; with this difference,
that we will pay for what we consume--which is less chivalrous, perhaps,
but which seems to me more natural."
They entered one of the most pretentious cottages; the inmates gazed at
the three young men with an expression of curiosity blended with
kindliness and good humor.
"Can you give us something to eat?" inquired Alfred; "to be well paid
for, of course."
"Oh, yes! messieurs, right away; and even if you shouldn’t pay, it would
be all the same."
"You see, messieurs," said Edouard, "that hospitality is not a lost art;
these good people do not know us, yet they would entertain us gratis!"
"Oh! that’s because they see that we will pay," said Robineau.
"Don’t you believe in the virtues of the ancient patriarchs, pray,
Monsieur Jules?"
"I will believe in whatever you please when I have seen my château,
messieurs!" said Robineau.--"Where are we, my good people, if you
please?"
"At Ayda, monsieur."
"Is it far to Saint-Amand?"
"Two good leagues, monsieur."
"Which proves that, although we walk, we make little progress!--To
table, messieurs!"
A table was laden with eggs, fresh cheese, old cheese, milk and fruit;
the three young men seated themselves on stools, and the villagers
remained standing around them. In vain did Alfred urge them to sit--the
honest Auvergnats would do nothing of the sort, and Robineau said to
himself:
"That is very well done--these peasants are respectful; I am very glad
that I have bought an estate in Auvergne."
Two girls of fifteen or sixteen waited upon the travellers, filled their
glasses, and served them zealously with fruit, bread and milk, smiling
all the while, and making a slight courtesy each time.
"They are very pretty," said Alfred, "and I consider that it’s much more
agreeable to see such amiable children behind one’s chair, with a smile
always on their faces, than to have a dozen prying, talkative footmen
hanging over one’s shoulder. Look you, Robineau, I advise you to set up
your establishment with girls like these; you will be served like a
sultan!"
"Oh! messieurs, you see only the trivial side! But I cannot have a woman
for coachman, for groom, for valet de chambre. A coachman in
petticoats--that would be very pretty!"
"You could dress them as men."
"Oh, no!" said Edouard, "they are so charming as they are!"
"‘Nothing so lovely as the true,
The true alone is lovable.’"
"The pleasantest thing," said Robineau, seizing a bowl of milk; "would
be to have arrived at our destination.--I say, Monsieur l’Auvergnat, do
you know the estate of La Roche-Noire in this neighborhood?"
The peasant whom Robineau addressed reflected a moment, then replied:
"Oh, yes! monsieur--La Roche-Noire--I know it well----"
"He knows it!" cried Robineau; and in an ecstasy of delight he threw his
arms in the air and dashed into Alfred’s face almost all the milk
contained in the cup he held in his hand.
"The devil take you and your château!" cried Alfred, rising from the
table to take off his cravat, which was drenched with milk, while
Edouard roared with laughter.
"Oh! I beg your pardon, my dear fellow!" said Robineau; "but really I
was beginning to be anxious about my château! This excellent man has
restored me to life."
"Were you afraid that your house had flown away?"
"I’ll give you another cravat, Alfred.--Tell me, worthy villager, who
knows La Roche-Noire, is it a fine estate?"
"Oh, yes! it’s very large, monsieur! It’s a sort of château, as they
say, and it’s got some big towers. They say that in old times they used
to fight there, and it was besieged."
"Besieged!" cried Robineau, springing to his feet and overturning his
stool, in his haste to run to the peasant’s side. "My friend, here’s a
five-franc piece; now tell me, I beg you, all you know about La
Roche-Noire."
"You are very generous, monsieur, that’s sure!"
"I am more than that: I am the owner, the new châtelain of the château
which you tell me was once besieged.--I promise you that there’ll be
some more wonderful doings there! I will give tournaments, jousts,
and--and--But let us return to my domain. Can it be seen from a
distance?"
"Yes, monsieur, it’s on a hill."
"It’s on a hill! Delightful!--And the park and gardens?"
"The park is still very large, so they say; I don’t know it, but I was
in the gardens once.--Oh! they’re fine! There’s marble
fountains--they’re a little damaged, but that’s no matter. And splendid
_estatues_! with men and women all naked--why, it gives you a fright!"