THE next evening we all met again at the farm, and the hemp-dresser
resumed his story:
François had been living about three years in the country of Aigurande,
near Villechiron, in a handsome mill which is called Haut-Champault, or
Bas-Champault, or Frechampault, for Champault is as common a name in
that country as in our own. I have been twice into those parts, and know
what a fine country it is. The peasants there are richer, and better
lodged and fed; there is more business there, and though the earth is
less fertile, it is more productive. The land is more broken; it is
pierced by rocks and washed by torrents, but it is fair and pleasant to
the eye. The trees are marvelously beautiful, and two streams, clear as
crystal, rush noisily along through their deep-cut channels.
The mills there are more considerable than ours, and the one where
François lived was among the richest and best. One winter day, his
master, by name Jean Vertaud, said to him:
"François, my servant and friend, I have something to say to you, and I
ask for your attention.
"You and I have known each other for some little time. I have done very
well in my business, and my mill has prospered; I have succeeded better
than others of my trade; in short, my fortune has increased, and I do
not conceal from myself that I owe it all to you. You have served me not
as a servant, but as a friend and relation. You have devoted yourself to
my interests as if they were your own. You have managed my property
better than I knew how to do myself, and have shown yourself possessed
of more knowledge and intelligence than I. I am not suspicious by
nature, and I should have been often cheated if you had not kept watch
of all the people and things about me. Those who were in the habit of
abusing my good nature, complained, and you bore the brunt boldly,
though more than once you exposed yourself to dangers, which you escaped
only by your courage and gentleness. What I like most about you is that
your heart is as good as your head and hand. You love order, but not
avarice. You do not allow yourself to be duped, as I do, and yet you are
as fond of helping your neighbor as I can be. You were the first to
advise me to be generous in real cases of need, but you were quick to
hold me back from giving to those who were merely making a pretense of
distress. You have sense and originality. The ideas you put into
practice are always successful, and whatever you touch turns to good
account.
"I am well pleased with you, and I should like, on my part, to do
something for you. Tell me frankly what you want, for I shall refuse you
nothing."
"I do not know why you say this," answered François. "You must think,
Master Vertaud, that I am dissatisfied with you, but it is not so. You
may be sure of that."
"I do not say that you are dissatisfied, but you do not generally look
like a happy man. Your spirits are not good. You never laugh and jest,
nor take any amusement. You are as sober as if you were in mourning for
somebody."
"Do you blame me for this, master? I shall never be able to please you
in this respect, for I am fond neither of the bottle nor of the dance; I
go neither to the tavern nor to balls; I know no funny stories nor
nonsense. I care for nothing which might distract me from my duty."
"You deserve to be held in high esteem for this, my boy, and I am not
going to blame you for it. I mention it, because I believe that there is
something on your mind. Perhaps you think that you are taking a great
deal of trouble on behalf of other people, and are but poorly paid for
it."
"You are wrong in thinking so, Master Vertaud. My reward is as great as
I could wish, and perhaps I could never have found elsewhere the high
wages which you are willing to allow me, of your own free will, and
without any urging from me. You have increased them, too, every year,
and, on Saint John's day last, you fixed them at a hundred crowns, which
is a very large price for you to pay. If you suffer any inconvenience
from it, I assure you that I should gladly relinquish it."
[Illustration]