a sudden pallor; Isaure felt her heart sink, and she began to tremble.
Never before had she had such a feeling of oppression as that which
seized her at the sight of the stranger. However, ashamed of having
given way to a feeling of alarm, she tried to recover herself, and said
to him in a voice which she did her utmost to make steady:
"Monsieur--do you wish for anything?"
The vagabond gazed at her a long while, then replied:
"Faith, no, I do not want anything. However, as I happen to be in front
of your house, I would be glad to eat a bit if it were possible."
"Oh, yes! that is very easy, monsieur. Come in."
From that moment Isaure saw in the stranger only an unfortunate, and the
pleasure that she felt in doing good speedily dissipated her terror.
Still, while the stranger entered and seated himself in the living room,
Isaure, as she went to and fro to fetch what she had to offer him, kept
Vaillant constantly by her side; and her voice, as she spoke a few
affectionate words to her faithful guardian from time to time, seemed to
urge him to watch over her more heedfully than ever.
The stranger threw himself upon a chair, put aside his hat and his
stick, and examined with interest the interior of the cottage. When the
girl returned to the living room, he scrutinized her again, and the more
he looked at her the more amazement his eyes seemed to express.
Isaure, having placed the food upon a table which she moved to her
guest’s side, said to him pleasantly:
"There, monsieur, is all that I have to offer you, but I do it gladly."
"There is much more than I need, and it is a most sumptuous repast,
compared with those which I have had for some time past," said the
stranger, seating himself at the table. "But I warn you, my child, that
I shall not be able to pay you for what I consume in your house."
"Pay me, monsieur! Oh! I am not in the habit of asking pay for such
trifling services as I can render. Is not one too fortunate to be able
to be of use sometimes to one’s fellow creatures?"
"That is a most beautiful reflection, my child!" said the stranger
ironically; "but I doubt whether your fellow creatures would do so much
for you, if the opportunity should offer! You are still young; it will
be well for you to learn thus early never to rely upon the gratitude of
those whom you have obliged."
"I do not need their gratitude to take pleasure in doing good; my reward
is in my heart." As she said this, Isaure raised her blue eyes with a
touching expression of sincerity, and her whole face seemed lovelier
than ever. The stranger gazed at her constantly while he ate.
"Young woman," said he, "it was not among your goats and your
dull-witted mountaineers that you learned to express yourself thus."
Isaure blushed and faltered:
"What! do you think, monsieur, that the people in our mountains are not
so hospitable as I am?"
"Hospitable! yes, indeed! But there are so many ways of being
hospitable; and I see by your manner, by your speech--yes, yes, I know
what I am talking about, and hereafter I think it would be difficult to
deceive me.--Come, sit down here, and keep me company. I don’t frighten
you, I trust?"
"No, monsieur," replied the girl timidly, as she seated herself a few
steps from the table, taking care to keep Vaillant beside her.
After eating and drinking for some time, the stranger rested his elbows
on the table, placed his head on his hands, and, gazing steadfastly at
Isaure, said to her:
"People talk much about you in the neighborhood."
"About me, monsieur?"
"Yes, about you. The mountaineers declare that you are a witch."
"A witch?"
"Yes. That makes you smile and you are right; these idiots deserve
nothing but pity; and yet in the old days such a reputation might have
been most disastrous to you. In the days when people did not take the
trouble to reason, they burned those who were accused of witchcraft;
that was the quickest way. The goodwomen of those times did not doubt
that witches rode to their revels on broomsticks; and there were people
interested in having three-fourths of the human race become as foolish
as the goodwomen. We have got beyond all that, and you will not be
burned. But I begin to think that the peasants may well have been
surprised at the difference between you and themselves, although I do
not imagine that it is due to any but a perfectly natural cause. You
will say that this is none of my business, I suppose; and that if you
express yourself in better language than the mountaineers, it is,
presumably, because your education was looked after. That is all very
well; but you must agree, my child, that it was absurd to fit you for
something better than tending goats, and then leave you in these
mountains to follow that trade."
Isaure made no reply; she lowered her eyes, feeling intimidated by the
tone of the stranger, whose glance, fixed constantly upon her, caused
her an embarrassment which she could not overcome.
"You are pretty, my child!" continued the vagabond; "very pretty, on my
word, and much more so than I thought before I had such a good look at
you. But this beauty will lead you into adventures. Men adore pretty
women, or at least, if they do not really adore them, they pay assiduous
court to them. For my part, that seems to me no more than right; it is
more natural to offer incense to a lovely woman than to adore oxen,
stags, crocodiles, monkeys, cats, and even onions, as used to be done by
the Egyptians, the most ancient of nations, and yet, as you see, not the
most sensible for that reason. So you will be adored.--But what am I
saying! it has begun already, no doubt. You blush! deuce take it!
there’s nothing out of the common course in that."
"I do not know what you mean, monsieur," rejoined Isaure with a
sincerity which would have convinced any other than the man who sat
opposite her.
"You do not know!" muttered the stranger, shrugging his shoulders. "That
is the way they all talk! they never do know! they are always innocent
and pure! And when we have proofs of their treachery, when we place
those proofs under their eyes, they still answer with an air of the
utmost good faith, that they do not know how it happened!"
A bitter smile played about the stranger’s lips; his eyebrows
contracted, and he seemed engrossed by painful memories. Isaure,
trembling violently, moved her chair away; her eyes expressed the terror
which had taken possession of her. Soon the stranger glanced at her, and
divined her fear; whereupon he resumed his customary careless air and
said to her:
"Why do you move away from me like that?"
"Why,--monsieur,--I thought that you were angry."
"Angry? not at all! With whom do you suppose that I am angry, for
heaven’s sake?--Let us come back to you, my child; come, move your chair
nearer and do not tremble so."
Isaure complied, as if against her will, with her guest’s request; the
familiar tone in which he addressed her would have offended her if he
had not seemed so destitute; but she believed him to be unfortunate, and
she attributed to compassion the submission which she displayed.
"I told you that you were pretty; it certainly was not that which made
you move your chair away. Others must have told you so before; and among
others, the two young men who have called upon you every morning for
some time past."
Isaure blushed hotly as she stammered:
"The two young men? Ah! you know--do you know them, monsieur?"
"Yes, I know them very well now. But do you know them? do you know who
they are?"
"I know that their names are Edouard and Alfred, that they are staying
at the Château of La Roche-Noire, and that they are pleasant and very
courteous to me."
"And is that all that you know?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"You lie, girl; you know very well that both of them are in love with
you."
Isaure tried to raise her eyes, but the stranger’s expression forced her
to lower them again at once, and she replied in a trembling voice:
"Those gentlemen may have told me that in jest; I should have done wrong
to believe them."
"Morbleu! in jest or otherwise, as if there were not a thousand ways of
making themselves understood! The silliest woman sees when she makes an
impression; all the more she who, like you, is neither a fool nor
affected. Oh! my dear, believe that I know women better than you know
your goats and your hens! I have had my day; it was short, it is true,
but I made the most of it! They found me as agreeable, as fascinating,
as you find Alfred and Edouard, but I rushed my intrigues more rapidly
than these young men do. How many beauties seduced, and then abandoned
that I might seduce others! How well I could assume all tones, affect
all the varying shades of sentiment, to ensnare my victims! I would
feign love, grief, despair; I would shed tears; but in reality my heart
was dry, and I laughed in my sleeve at the sighs which moved those women
to compassion. Ah! yes, I may say that I have had a very brilliant
flight--it’s a pity that it ended so badly!"
Isaure listened to the stranger with amazement, not daring to interrupt
him; he sat for some moments as if absorbed by the memories which had
awakened in his mind; then he let his head droop upon his breast, and
continued:
"Yes! all that has vanished! Love, friendship, wealth! I shall never
know any of them more; I am alone, destitute, and I have not a single
friend!"
The stranger’s tone became slow and melancholy as he uttered these
words. Isaure felt deeply moved; she rose, walked toward the stranger,
who no longer terrified her, and said to him with touching concern:
"Have you been very unfortunate?"
The stranger raised his head, gazed earnestly at her, and exclaimed:
"Why, this is most extraordinary! I had not noticed it before so
strongly as I do now!"
"Noticed what, monsieur?" said Isaure.
"Nothing; oh! nothing. It is the effect of my recollections, no doubt.
What in the deuce set me to thinking about all that? No, henceforth
there is but a single sentiment that can revive my heart; but I feel
that that sentiment may still afford me most delicious enjoyment."
Once more the stranger’s eyes gleamed; they seemed alight with savage
joy. Isaure moved away from him, and quickly resumed her former seat,
while her hand rested on Vaillant’s neck.
"My child," continued the vagabond, after drinking a glass of wine, "I
was saying that the two young men who come to see you so often are in
love with you. There is no harm in that, but you must realize that it is
not to see this valley or to gaze into the lovely eyes of your goats,
that these two young men from Paris rise so early in the morning! But I
have reasons of my own for being curious to know which of the two you
prefer--unless indeed you love them both, for such things have been
seen! But no, no; I think that you are not sufficiently advanced for
that. Come, speak, answer."
Isaure rose with dignity; she no longer trembled, for she felt offended;
and looking fixedly at the man whom she had received as her guest, she
answered:
"Your questions surprise me, monsieur! Who, pray, has employed you to
ask them?"
"Who? Morbleu! I myself, who ask them; I, who question you! Is there any
need of making so much fuss about saying: ‘I love this one better than
that one?’"
"No one ever spoke to me so, monsieur, and when my dear mother was
alive----"
"I am not talking about your mother. If she were here you probably would
not receive visits from young men every morning. I see that you make the
most of your liberty; don’t take so much pains to play the prude!
Grimaces do not succeed with me. Come, sacrebleu! answer me!"
The stranger rose abruptly and walked toward Isaure. She, yielding to a
thrill of fear caused by his approach, stepped back with a cry of alarm.
Instantly Vaillant, thinking that his mistress was menaced, sprang to
his feet, and with the rapidity of a lightning flash leaped upon the
stranger and seized his leg with his teeth.
"Well, well! call off your dog! Heavens and earth! Don’t you see that he
is biting me?"
Isaure called Vaillant, who made up his mind only with great reluctance
to release the leg that he had seized, and returned to his mistress,
growling, and keeping his flashing eyes fixed on the stranger.
"I beg pardon, monsieur," said Isaure, "but this faithful animal
evidently thought you were threatening me."
"Morbleu! why do you shriek because I approach you? Do you think that I
am going to eat you? What fools these girls are! You have a guardian
there who does not understand joking; the rascal--his teeth went into my
flesh. If he should receive your young men in the same way, I fancy that
they would not come so often. But you don’t shriek when they come near,
do you?--Adieu, my pretty discreet one! Oh! I shall soon find out what
you refuse to tell me to-day! Yes, I shall find out all about you. I do
not believe that you are a witch; but I do not think it natural that you
should talk like the ladies from the city, that you should live alone
with your flocks, and that you should be rich enough to entertain for
nothing all those who stop at your house. There is something underneath
it, and I shall find out what it is; for as I have told you, it is not
easy to deceive me, and I believe neither in the innocence which runs
about fields, nor in Platonic love, nor in innate knowledge. Adieu."
The stranger took his hat and stick and walked slowly from the house,
with a contemptuous glance at the girl. Isaure felt that she breathed
more freely when she saw that man take his departure, and Vaillant, who
had not ceased to growl since his brief struggle with the stranger, went
to the door to look after him, and did not reenter the house until he
was entirely out of sight.
XVIII
NEW CHARACTERS.--A GRAND FÊTE AT LA ROCHE-NOIRE.
At last the great day had arrived on which Robineau proposed to display
all the magnificence of a Caliph, although his fortune did not approach
in size that of his highness’s most insignificant pacha. But, after
living for many years with the strictest economy, to become the owner of
a château, to hear oneself called monseigneur, or Monsieur de la
Roche-Noire, to have nine servants at one’s orders, and to be fêted,
sought after, flattered by men, and ogled and cajoled by women, is more
than is necessary to make one lose one’s head, especially when one has
very little common sense and a great deal of vanity. So that Robineau
had almost lost his head; he did not calculate, he did not reflect that
the manner of life which he proposed to lead was infinitely beyond the
income that he had inherited; he gave orders recklessly. But he was
happy, he was fairly swimming in joy, and that is always something. How
many people there are who, even with great wealth, can never succeed in
being happy.
Robineau awoke very early in the morning and deliberated upon his
costume; that is an important point, especially when one wishes to find
a wife; for a woman who has received a fine education will never consent
to take for a husband a man who does not know how to dress with taste.
The first impressions are often hard to destroy: a man whose collar is
too high, or whose coat sleeves are too short, will create a very bad
effect in a salon, at first. At all events, that is what Robineau said
to himself, and he was not absolutely wrong. But, if the ladies would
pay strict attention to the subject, they would observe that it is not
always the men who have the most intellect who tie their cravats best.
François brought to his master the new clothes which he had ordered from
Paris. He spread them out on the bed, and Robineau hesitated between the
wholly black costume and the white trousers, which were more seasonable.
Monsieur Férulus entered the apartment at that moment; the librarian,
man of business and butler was already in full dress, although he wore
the same coat as always; but to improve it a little, he had had steel
buttons of the size of a five-franc piece sewn on, which, when Monsieur
Férulus stood in the sun, cast a reflection that made it impossible to
see the rest of his person. Moreover, he had caused to be fixed upon his
shoulders great bunches of black ribbon, the very long ends of which
fell down his back, after manner of a queue.
Despite his gala costume, Monsieur Férulus’s face was longer than usual,
and his eyes were red and fatigued.
"Parbleu! my dear Férulus, you arrive most opportunely," said Robineau;
"you must help me in the choice of my costume; ought I to adopt the full
suit of black, or may I venture to wear the white trousers?"
"The full suit of black is the proper thing, monseigneur; to dress
otherwise would be a crime of _lèse-ceremony_! Remember, monseigneur,
that this day will mark an epoch: you represent in your person all the
chatelaines who have possessed this domain! If you were in China, you
would dress in yellow; in England you might dress in red; in Austria, in
white; in Prussia, in blue; and in Africa, you might be practically
naked, except that you could paint some very pretty things on your body
and legs and arms; but as the French nation is the gayest of all, it has
specially adopted black for weddings, for burials and for dancing."
"You hear, Francois; prepare the full black costume.--Bless my soul! you
are brilliant, Monsieur Férulus! You have some very fine buttons there!"
"Are they not, monseigneur? They descended to me from my father’s
granduncle, who wore them in a minuet which he danced before Madame de
Maintenon; you can understand how highly I prize them; they are the most
precious heritage which my ancestors have left to me! I use them only on
great occasions; for example, at my distribution of prizes, I give them
and nothing else to my pupils--but on condition that they bring them
back to me the next day."
"And what is this bunch of ribbons which you have on each shoulder?"
"That is a mark of dignity, monseigneur; it means that I am worthy to
eat at your table with the noblest society. The pages used to wear them
under King Dagobert."
"In that case you did very well to put them on.--But what is the matter
with you, Monsieur Férulus? You look to me very pale this morning."
"Monseigneur, it is because--I had my bed warmed----"
"What! already?"
"The tower in which I lodge is very damp, monseigneur; however, it did
not succeed so well as I hoped; I trust that breakfast will make me feel
better. But they have just brought your servants’ livery; it is
superb--dark green, with apricot trousers and orange trimmings."
"Yes, that is my idea; can you see it at a distance?"
"At a great distance, monseigneur. I must tell you, however, that that
clown of an Olitor--I mean your gardener--refuses to wear it, on the
pretext that it makes him look like a parrot."
"That rascal is always rebelling about something! François, go to him
and order him in my name to put on his livery under penalty of being
turned out of my garden."
Alfred and Edouard were also busying themselves with their toilet;
although they did not, like the master of the house, propose to make
conquests, the two young Parisians desired to appear to advantage before
the large company which was to assemble at the château; and then too,
one is never sorry to please, even when one has no desire to love.
Everything was arranged for the festivities. Two greased poles had been
set up in the courtyard, at the top of which were fastened the _Syntax_
and the _Rudiments_. The colored lanterns were strung in the garden
paths; the arena was arranged for the gymnastic sports; and the three
musicians who were to compose the orchestra, the leader being blind, had
arrived, armed with two violins and a clarinet. The servants ran hither
and thither in the midst of it all, and the new livery did in fact give
them some resemblance to the birds of which Vincent had spoken. However,
in order to avoid dismissal, the gardener had made up his mind to put on
his costume with the rest; Monsieur Férulus was careful always to stand
in the sun, in order to make his buttons shine more brightly.
The clock struck twelve. Robineau was in full dress; all the
preparations were made, but no one had yet arrived of the numerous
company expected. However, François and the two scullions fired three
musket shots; and Robineau, who was in the salon with his friends, ran
out upon the balcony, saying:
"What is that?"
"It is the signal to announce that the fête is beginning, monseigneur,"
said François.
"Idiot! do you suppose that the fête is going to begin before anyone has
arrived?"
"Why, monseigneur, Monsieur Férulus told us to fire all together at
noon."
"_Non errabis!_" cried Férulus, appearing in the courtyard; "I told you
to fire at noon, but it was understood that it should be _coram populo_,
that is to say, before the company. Reload your weapons, therefore; you
must give a second signal."
While the servants reloaded their weapons, shrieks arose from one corner
of the courtyard. Everybody hurried in that direction to ascertain the
cause. They found the leader of the orchestra sprawling on the steps of
the staircase leading to the cellar, down which he had jumped at the
report of the muskets, which he believed to be aimed at him. They picked
up the poor man, who had suffered nothing worse than a few bruises, and
placed him on the stand which was set up in the courtyard, ordering his
two companions not to leave him, which they promised only on condition
that six bottles of wine should be placed under the bench.
Half an hour passed, and no one appeared. Robineau began to be
impatient, Monsieur Férulus ran about, telling each one again and again
what he had to do, and as he spoke, glancing furtively at his buttons.
Robineau called for an opera glass and went up with his friends to the
top of the South Tower. From there they could see the road for a long
distance, and Monsieur de la Roche-Noire kept passing the glass to his
friends, saying, like Bluebeard’s wife: "Do you see anybody coming?"
At last they espied a horseman riding toward the château; Robineau
turned the glass upon him and cried:
"He is coming here; I recognize him; it is Monsieur Berlingue, a most
agreeable man, with an extraordinary memory; he has already told me all
the scandal of the town; he is a delightful person! He goes everywhere,
even where he is not invited."
Monsieur Berlingue’s horse advanced at a very slow trot, but still he
did advance. Robineau went down from the tower with his friends to
welcome the newcomer, and François and the scullions, seeing the
horseman approach, took aim at him, thinking that the time had come to
fire; but Monsieur Férulus checked them in time, and Monsieur Berlingue
dismounted and entered the château, glancing all about with malicious
curiosity.
The newcomer was a short man of fifty years, who was not very stylishly
dressed, but whose sneering face seemed to be constantly seeking
something to make fun of. He walked toward Robineau and held out his
hand, staring at the two young men who were in the salon; and even
before he had asked the master of the house how he was, he had taken an
inventory of everything in the room.
"Monsieur Berlingue," said Robineau, "you are very amiable, for you have
come at last! But the other gentlemen and ladies--no one comes and it is
nearly one o’clock! And yet I asked them to come early. I had arranged
some little surprises for the ladies."
"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire," replied Monsieur Berlingue in a shrill
voice, shouting as if he never spoke to any except deaf people, "it is a
principle of mine to be prompt, to keep my word.--Are these gentlemen
your friends from Paris? Very happy to make their acquaintance.--But,
Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, if you want to have company at noon, you
must invite them for nine o’clock, for here--You have had this part of
the château repaired, I see--here, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, we go
beyond the fashion: in Paris, people keep you waiting one hour; in the
provinces they keep you waiting four.--Is this your livery? It is a new
style.--And then the ladies, married or single! do you suppose that they
can finish their toilet at noon?--You still have some furniture that’s
rather old-fashioned; you must change it.--In the first place, the women
in the provinces are greater flirts than those in Paris!--Your coat fits
you perfectly.--You expect Mesdames de Moulinet, Mesdemoiselles
Bretonneau, the La Pincerie family, Gérard the manufacturer’s wife, and
the notary’s wife--Parbleu! If those ladies are all here within two
hours, you will be very lucky.--Ah! greased poles in your courtyard!
That is charming! It is an entirely new idea!"