goatherd, while Monsieur Férulus placed his grammars and his
dictionaries on the dusty shelves of the library, while Mademoiselle
Cheval exercised her talents in the kitchen and Cunette in the cellar,
while the gardener was digging up the garden and the workmen were
repairing the whole domain of La Roche-Noire, Robineau passed his time
at the dinners and other parties which were given him at Saint-Amand,
whither he went every day. Like all small provincial towns, the little
town of Saint-Amand contained its proportion of originals, gossips,
pretentious folk, and heads of families who had daughters to marry.
Robineau was rich, he had just purchased a château, and he proposed
taking a wife; that was more than was necessary for him to be fêted,
made much of and invited everywhere.
Robineau created a sensation in every house that he visited; people said
to themselves: "That is Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, the new owner of the
château; he is rich and he means to marry; he told his notary, who told
his clients, who told the rest of the town." All the young ladies
glanced furtively at Robineau and assumed pretty little airs to attract
that gentleman, who was not particularly fascinating; but it is so cruel
to remain unmarried, and on the other hand so pleasant to have a
château, and to be called Madame de la Roche-Noire, that those young
ladies were very excusable for trying to captivate the newcomer. Their
mammas also heaped attentions upon him; they applauded what he said and
smiled at what he did. Even the widows darted at the new landed
proprietor an occasional flashing or tender glance, accompanied by a
stifled sigh; for many widows are not at all sorry to contract a second
marriage, in order to divert their minds from their grief, if they have
had a good husband; to recompense themselves, if they have had a bad
one; or to draw distinctions, if they have had a passable one. Amid all
these allurements, Robineau hardly knew where he was; he considered the
soirées at Saint-Amand far preferable to the balls in Paris; he deemed
himself at once an Apollo and a Voltaire, and did not reflect that it
was his twenty-five thousand francs a year, which, in the eyes of many
people, endowed him with charm, wit and learning; whereas in reality he
was still as dull and as great a fool as ever! Bridoison declares that
that is the sort of thing which people say to themselves; but there are
many people still, who never do.
Robineau, thus fawned upon, flattered and courted as an oracle, and at a
loss to know in which direction to throw the handkerchief, determined
meanwhile to return the courtesies which he had received from the
society of the town; he spurred the workmen on when he was at the
château, and when he left it, he instructed his librarian to take his
place and to hurry the work along. The librarian, who had as yet
succeeded in collecting only twenty-three volumes in the library, was
not sorry to have another position to fill and to be monseigneur’s man
of business as well. Through his efforts, two young Auvergnats were
placed under Mademoiselle Cheval’s orders, as scullions; for the scholar
began his improvements in the culinary department. Next he inspected the
cellars, and required the keys to be placed in his hands, to the intense
disgust of Monsieur Cunette. But Monsieur Férulus had read somewhere
that the great noblemen had _officiers de bouche_, and he declared that
butlers were just that; consequently, he took that position upon himself
also. He hired two new servants, who were to act as coachman and as
footman; he suggested to Robineau to purchase a small horse and a
chaise, in which he made his daily visits to the town. Lastly, a stout
girl of twenty years was retained as assistant to Monsieur Vincent, who
was forever saying that he could not do everything; and the new gardener
was expected, when she should be called upon, to warm the beds and warm
Monsieur de la Roche-Noire’s feet. This clause was expressly stipulated
by Monsieur Férulus when he engaged the peasant girl; "for," said he,
"servants used to do that for their masters, when they needed it; and
Monsieur de la Roche-Noire and I have agreed to reëstablish the
praiseworthy customs of ancient times."
The stout girl, who had engaged to do everything,--like the young ladies
who advertise in the Petites-Affiches,--promised to do whatever was
wanted, and the librarian-man of business-butler installed Jeannette at
the château.
After a few days, the château assumed a much more attractive aspect; one
could ascend the staircase without the risk of falling; the walls were
repaired, and fresh papers replaced those blackened by time; the windows
were provided with glass, the doors could be closed, and the wind could
not be felt in every corner. Robineau concluded that he could safely
give the party which he had promised to the swell society of the town.
His household was established, his cellar supplied, the servants had
their livery, the garden was despoiled of beets in a large measure, and
embellished with new flowers; and lastly, Monsieur Férulus had written
some poetry for the occasion. Robineau fixed the day, and despatched his
invitations, and everything was made ready at the château for that grand
event, in which the new proprietor proposed to demonstrate at once his
good taste, his refinement and his magnificence.
On returning from the valley of Chadrat, Alfred and Edouard were not a
little surprised to find everything up in arms at the château; servants
were running hither and thither, setting up in the courtyard posts upon
which lamps were fixed; stringing cords, with colored lanterns attached,
along the garden paths; and in the midst of it all, Monsieur Férulus,
holding a book in one hand and a corkscrew in the other, went from this
person to that person, issuing orders and wiping his brow with the end
of his sleeve, because, presumably, he had not yet taken charge of the
handkerchief department.
"Bless my soul! what is going to happen here?" asked Alfred.
"Can it be that Monsieur Jules de la Roche-Noire is going to be
married?" said Edouard.
"Messieurs," said Férulus, "I have read in some Italian author--as he
said this he waved his corkscrew--‘_Lontano dagli occhi, lontano dal
cuore!_’ You, messieurs, are away from the château all day, and
consequently you cannot know what is in preparation here. But here is
Monseigneur de la Roche-Noire, who will inform you."
Robineau was in fact coming toward the young men at that moment.
"Upon my word, messieurs," he said, "you are very agreeable! I never see
you now; you start off in the morning to go--I have a shrewd idea where!
If I had not had Monsieur Férulus, this estimable scholar who has
established my household upon a magnificent footing, I should never have
got through with it. I hope that to-morrow at least you will be kind
enough not to absent yourselves. I am giving a party--a magnificent
dinner, a ball, and games of all sorts; the entertainment will begin at
noon precisely; is that not so, Monsieur Férulus?"
"Yes, monseigneur; at noon the cannon, that is to say, three muskets
fired spontaneously, will give the signal for the party."
"Mon Dieu! it is after the style of the Tivoli at Paris," said Alfred.
"First of all," continued Férulus, "a foot race in the gardens, followed
by homage to the ladies."
"What is this homage to the ladies to be, Monsieur Férulus?"
"A bouquet presented to each one of them, monseigneur, in which there
will be a little compliment in verse, of my composition."
"That will be very gallant."
"In order that there may be no jealousy, I shall put the same compliment
in each bouquet. Next, a foot race through the apartments of the
château."
"Ah! Monsieur Férulus," said Alfred, "you should have made it a horse
race; it would have been more exciting."
"Next, refreshments of all sorts, consisting of red wine and water,
distributed to all the company; then a little concert, performed under
the windows of the balcony."
"Monsieur Férulus," said Robineau, "I won’t have bagpipes. The villagers
hereabout are very obliging, but I remember my first party, and I don’t
propose that those fellows shall dance here again."
"Never fear, monseigneur, they will not dance; they will come into the
courtyard simply to be present at the games and to see the greased
pole."
"Ah! We are to have a greased pole, are we?"
"Yes, monseigneur, we shall have two, in fact; I thought that it would
be courteous to have one for the men and one for the ladies."
"Parbleu!" said Alfred, "I have never yet seen women climbing a greased
pole; but it cannot fail to be very amusing. You will supply them with
drawers, I presume, Monsieur Férulus?"
"I have not gone into those details, monsieur; but in order that it may
be easier for the ladies to reach the top, I have conceived rather a
happy idea: while the men’s pole will be greased and rubbed with soap, I
shall have the ladies’ pole rubbed with honey from top to bottom; in
that way, they will be able to ascend as easily as if it were a ladder."
"That is altogether novel!" said Robineau; "and what are the prizes to
be?"
"Superb, monseigneur! a _Syntax_ and the _De Viris Illustribus_ for the
men; the _Explanation of Participles_ and the _Cuisinière Bourgeoise_
for the ladies."
"The Auvergnats who win those will be well pleased!" said Edouard.
"What next, my dear friend?" said Robineau.
"Next, monseigneur, to take the place of tournaments, which we could not
give for lack of knights, it occurred to me that you would not be sorry
to have an imitation of the gymnastic games, as they used to be
performed at the festival of Eleusis, and even before the Roman
Emperors. Consequently, some Auvergnats, to whom I have given full
instructions, will execute in the courtyard such sports as throwing the
discus, foot-races, wrestling and boxing."
"You won’t serve them with anything to drink beforehand, I trust!"
"No, monseigneur! Next, flourishes, executed by the three musicians whom
I have hired in the town, will announce that the banquet is served. At
dessert, I shall sing couplets in your honor, and you will be kind
enough to encore the last--that is always done."
"Very well, that is understood."
"Next, monseigneur, we shall go to the ball room, which will be
decorated as the Greeks used to decorate the places devoted to such
assemblages: flowers, garlands, and mottoes everywhere."
"You will have the mottoes written in French, won’t you, Monsieur
Férulus?"
"No, monseigneur, in Latin and Greek, that is more dignified."
"Never mind, do me the favor to write them in French; otherwise, if the
ladies should ask me for their meaning, it might embarrass me."
"If you absolutely insist upon it----"
"Yes, I insist upon it. What next?"
"Next, monseigneur, a bomb, fired in your courtyard, will announce the
fireworks, which will crown that beautiful day by a rain of fire."
"A rain of fire! The deuce! You will take care that it doesn’t rain on
the company."
"I will answer for everything, monseigneur; I, myself, shall handle the
fireworks, and I am as expert at it as if I had invented powder."
"Well, messieurs, what do you think of this fête?" said Robineau,
rubbing his hands in high glee.
"I hope that you will distribute programmes," said Alfred. "But who are
to be your guests to-morrow, pray?"
"All the best people of Saint-Amand: nobles, people of great wealth, and
men of great merit. You will see, messieurs, that all the agreeable
people are not in Paris. And the women too! Dieu! you will see women of
all colors!"
"What! do you mean that you expect to have Africans, mulattoes?"
"No, not that; I mean that you will see beauties of all types; and such
wit! and such style! It’s a pity that we haven’t adopted the custom of
Turkey; if we had, I would marry twelve wives instead of one, for upon
my word, there are more than twelve of whom I have made the conquest.
But above all, there is a certain Mademoiselle de la Pincerie. Ah! as
for her, I believe that I have dealt her the fatal blow, and she has
excited my imagination considerably, too!"
"Who is this Mademoiselle de la Pincerie?"
"She is a charming young lady: tall, well-built and stately, and dances
like a fairy! In short, she is Mademoiselle Cornélie de la Pincerie,
daughter of Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie, of one of the oldest
families in Poitou, who settled in Auvergne because they found that
butter was cheaper here. It was the father who told me that; he is a
very profound thinker, a great political economist. For forty-three
years he has been working at a philanthropic project, tending to prove
that one can make soup with nothing but a calf’s foot, which would
effect a great saving in soup stock!"
"Deuce take it! It is very unfortunate for the oxen that he has not
finished that work yet!"
"There’s another daughter too, but she is a widow: very good-looking
still, but rather a flirt, I am inclined to think. And then there is a
brother of the marquis; and he is good nature personified! However,
messieurs, you will see the whole family to-morrow; indeed, I intend to
ask them to pass some time at my château."
The young men were about to leave the courtyard, when Monsieur Férulus,
who had disappeared for a moment, ran back and detained Robineau,
saying:
"You know, Monseigneur de la Roche-Noire, that I have engaged a full
staff of servants; but you have not yet had the opportunity to see them
all. By the way, I have deemed it proper to give them names more
befitting their employment than those which they formerly bore. I have
just called your household together in the large gallery; do you care to
pass them in review?"
"It seems to me that that is the correct thing to do," said Robineau; "I
ought at least to know all the people who are in my pay. Let us go to
pass my servants in review."
They went to the gallery, where all the domestics of the château were
assembled. Monsieur Férulus, who was very fond of ceremonials, had drawn
up all the servants in a line, ordering each of them to hold in his hand
some implement of his profession. The concierge had his keys, the
gardener a spade, François a switch for beating clothes, the coachman a
whip, the groom a cap, the scullions larding-needles, Mademoiselle
Cheval a saucepan, and Jeannette, who had found no warming pan in the
château, held a foot-warmer under her arm.
"Excellent! this looks exceedingly well," said Robineau, halting in
front of them; "nine servants, to say nothing of the horses and dogs;
that is very nice."
"Allow me, monseigneur, to tell you the new name of each one," said
Férulus; and taking his stand before one after another, and pointing to
them with a stick, as if he were exhibiting wax figures, he began with
the concierge.
"This, monseigneur, is your concierge. Instead of Cunette, an unseemly
name, which suggests a rebus, we will call him, with your permission,
Custos, which, as you well know, is the Latin for guardian;--you hear,
your name is Custos."
"My name is Cunette," cried the concierge; "and I maintain that it is a
better name than your Cudechausse."
"I tell you it is Custos, you ignoramus."
"But----"
"Silence!--This, monseigneur, who is your gardener, is named Olitor, the
real name of his profession. Olitor, present your spade."
"What nonsense is that you are talking?" said the gardener angrily; "my
name is Vincent. What have you to say against that name? Do you suppose
that at my age you are going to stuff a new one into my ears?"
"Olitor, my dear fellow, is very easy to say."
"Catch me answer that name! It’s a dog’s name."
"It’s a gardener’s name; just look in the dictionary."
"Oh! let me alone! Do you suppose dictionaries grow in my garden?"
"I tell you that you are called Olitor by monseigneur’s orders."
"And I tell you that our master can’t order such silly nonsense as
that!"
"Silly nonsense! The fruit of my long investigation!"
"My dear Férulus," said Robineau, stepping forward majestically, "I do
justice to your learning, and I know that so far as erudition is
concerned you could swallow all these fellows without winking; but I
shall not give new names to my servants; it would be likely to mix me
all up; so I shall simply call them by the name of their profession,
that is to say, concierge, gardener, valet; I like that better."
"_Vive monseigneur!_" said Cunette, tossing his hat in the air; while
Férulus turned away, muttering between his teeth:
"This is what comes of taking pains to establish a household with taste!
This is the way learning is encouraged! _Numerus stultorum est
infinitus!_"
Robineau, having made the acquaintance of all the rest of his new
servants, came to Jeannette, who was the last in the line, and who
presented the foot-warmer to him.
"What is that thing, my dear?" said Robineau, as he looked at it.
"Why, monseigneur, it is an _attribute_, as that gentleman all dressed
in black called it, who engaged me to work for you."
"What, do you mean that you have entered my service to hand me
foot-warmers? It seems to me that in summer you might find something
better to do than that."
"Monseigneur de la Roche-Noire, that is a figure of speech," said
Férulus, stepping forward; "this girl is here to do everything, and
principally to warm the bed when you want it done; but as I could find
no warming pan at the moment, she offers you the implement of her
duties."
"Yes, monseigneur, I will warm you," said Jeannette with a curtsy.
"Monseigneur," continued Férulus, "Agar performed that service for
Abraham, Ruth for Boaz, Bathsheba for David, and I do not see why
Jeannette should not perform it for your lordship."
"I don’t see either," said Robineau, "and I highly approve the creation
of this position in my château.--Well, my friends, be zealous and
active, and above all things see to it that to-morrow you work with
redoubled zest and do not get drunk."
As he said this, Robineau walked away with his two friends. The servants
returned to their work, and Monsieur Férulus went to Jeannette and
whispered in her ear:
"You will warm my bed this evening."
"What, monsieur, already? in such warm weather as this? it’s early in
September."
"That proves nothing; it may be hot and still be damp."
"But, monsieur, I can’t find any warming pan."
"Never mind, my dear girl, at your age the centre of gravity should be
warm enough to take the place of one."
"What’s the centre of gravity, monsieur?"
"What you sit down on, Jeannette."
"What, monsieur,--you want me to warm your bed with my----"
"Even so, my dear; that is the way beds were always warmed in ancient
times, for in ancient times there were no warming pans."
"Then it’s all right, monsieur."
"Oh! by the way, Jeannette, you will be careful to leave the warming pan
in the bed, so that I shall find it there when I retire."
Jeannette opened her eyes and curtsied, while Monsieur Férulus walked
away playing with his corkscrew.
XVII
THE MAIDEN AND THE STRANGER
While everybody at the Château of La Roche-Noire was engrossed by the
great festivity which was to take place on the morrow, the most profound
tranquillity reigned about Isaure’s dwelling. When the young men had
left her, the little goatherd had taken her flock onto the mountain. On
the way, she often turned her eyes toward the White House; she seemed to
gaze inquiringly at it; then she went on, and from time to time a faint
sigh escaped from her breast. Isaure had unconsciously become pensive
since she began to receive the visits of Alfred and Edouard; she
frequently thought of the two young men. Alone in her cottage, or among
the mountains, Isaure had abundance of time to think; and when love
makes her heart beat fast, the busiest woman finds leisure to think of
the man she loves, or rather she thinks of him all the time. Even in the
midst of society and of the restraints to which it subjects us, the
image of the person we love follows us everywhere. It is our veritable
sylph, or guardian angel.
Alfred and Edouard were both made to be loved, and they both did their
utmost to please Isaure. A heart that has never known love is certain to
surrender more easily and to receive more quickly the impressions of
that passion. The girl whom the mountaineers and the shepherds had
avoided, experienced a novel pleasure with those persons who seemed so
happy in her presence; but that pleasure was inevitably attended with
risk; and already fits of musing announced the birth of a new sentiment
in Isaure’s heart.
Reading was no longer a sufficient distraction for the little goatherd.
Still, she had carried a book upon the mountain with her, to occupy her
time; but although she opened it and looked at it, she did not read; her
distraught eyes sought the road by which the two young men always came
to the valley.
"I shall see them to-morrow," she said to herself; "they are not afraid
of me! they do not run away at sight of me; they do not think me wicked.
Ah! I begin to feel that it is very melancholy to live alone, not to
have a single friend with one. And yet, a little while ago I never
thought of that; I was perfectly happy. What can it be that I lack now?"
Isaure let her head sink upon her breast; the book was thrown aside. Her
mind abandoned itself to a delicious reverie; it is so sweet to dream,
when the image of one we love is mingled with all our thoughts! And yet
how many people live and die without knowing the most blissful
sensations of love!
Suddenly the girl raised her head, put aside with her hand the long fair
curls which fell over her great eyes, and turning her head anxiously,
looked once more at the White House, with her head bent forward, as if
she were listening, waiting, hoping.
But nothing disturbed the absolute calm that reigned all about; and that
house, an object of terror to the credulous mountaineers, seemed to be
as usual entirely deserted.
At last Isaure ceased to look in that direction; but, having glanced
about, as if to make sure that no one could see her, she took from her
breast a little locket, put it to her lips, and kissed it fervently; and
a tear or two, which glistened in her eyes, fell upon that object upon
which she lavished so many manifestations of affection.
After a few minutes she carefully replaced the locket in her breast,
wiped her eyes, rose, assembled her goats and walked slowly back to her
cottage.
Vaillant came rushing out to jump and fawn upon his mistress.
"My poor Vaillant," said Isaure, passing her hand over the head of her
faithful companion, "you are not pleased with me; I am sure of it; I do
not play with you as often as I used; I fondle you less; and yet I still
love you, you are my faithful companion; but I don’t know what is the
matter with me, Vaillant; and sometimes it really seems to me as if I
were angry with myself for not being so merry as I used to be."
The dog pricked up his ears and looked in the girl’s face; one would
have thought that he was seeking some means of raising her spirits.
Several moments passed, and Vaillant, overjoyed to be caressed by his
young mistress, did not stir from her side. But suddenly he lowered his
head, walked away from Isaure, and took his stand close to the house
door, uttering a low, prolonged growl.
"What is it, Vaillant? What’s the matter with you?" said the girl,
calling him back to her. But he remained near the door, and would not
leave it; he continued to growl, while his eyes expressed his ill humor
and an uneasy curiosity.
"Is there anyone there?" continued Isaure. "Can it be that they have
come back to see me? or perhaps only one of them?"
At the thought, a deep blush overspread the girl’s cheeks. She ran to
the door and hastily threw it open; but instead of her young friends,
she saw the man who had been wandering about the mountains standing a
few yards from her house.
He was standing perfectly still, leaning upon his stout stick; he seemed
to be scrutinizing the cottage in every part, and at the same time to be
deep in thought; when the door opened and the dog went to him, he did
not move; but his piercing black eyes rested upon the girl, who had
remained in the doorway.
The stranger’s appearance and the expression of his face had at that
moment a tinge of gloom, which, combined with the shabbiness of his
clothes, inspired a sort of distrust. Isaure had never been so near that
man; she had only seen him passing at a distance; but now he was only a
few yards away from her, and his glances, spanning that distance, seemed
by the smouldering fire that gleamed in them to seek to read the very
bottom of the girl’s soul.