"Don't be alarmed, sir; you won't miss the train. For the last fifteen
years I've been carrying travellers to the station, and I've never yet
missed a train! Think of that, sir; never!"
"But--"
"Oh, don't look at your watch. There is one thing you don't know and
that you must learn, and that your watch will never be able to tell
you--that is, that the train is always a quarter of an hour late. Such a
thing as the train's being on time has never happened."
Such a thing happened that day, however, for the train was on time, and
so I missed it. My driver was furious.
"You should warn us," he said to the station-master, "if your trains are
suddenly going to start at the right hour. Who ever saw the like!"
And he turned to one or two of the porters for witnesses.
"Did you ever see such a thing? I don't wish to appear blamable before
the gentleman. A train on time--on time! You know it's the first time
it has ever happened."
There was a general cry of "Yes, indeed; usually there's some delay."
But, for all that, I had none the less three long hours to pass in a
very desolate village (in the Canton of Vaud) shut in by two sad-looking
mountains, which had their little topknots covered with snow.
But how kill three hours? In my turn I now asked advice, and again there
was a chorus of "Go see the Caldron; that's the only sight to be seen in
this part of the country." "And where is this Caldron?" On the mountain,
to the right, half way up; but the path was a little complicated, and I
was advised to take a guide; and there, over there in that white cottage
with green blinds, I would find the best guide there was about here, an
honest man--Old Simon.
So I went and knocked at the door of the little house.
An old woman opened it.
"Simon, the guide?"
"Yes, right here; but--if it's to go to the Caldron--"
"It is to go to the Caldron."
"Well, Simon hasn't been very well since morning; he hasn't much
strength, and he can't go out. But don't worry yourself; there is some
one who can replace him--there is Blacky."
"All right, let it be Blacky, then."
"Only I must tell you that Blacky isn't a person."
"Not a person?"
"No, he's our dog."
"A dog? What do you mean?"
"Yes, Blacky; and he will guide you very well--quite as well as my
husband. He is in the habit of--"
"In the habit?"
"Certainly; for years and years Simon took him along, so he learned the
different places, and now he does very well all by himself. He has often
taken travellers, and we have always been complimented about him. As for
intelligence, don't be afraid--he has as much as you or I. He needs only
speech, but speech isn't required. If it was to show a monument,
now--why, yes, for then it would be necessary to give some account and
know the historical dates; but here there are only the beauties of
nature. Take Blacky, and it will be cheaper also; my husband would cost
three francs, whereas Blacky is only thirty sous, and he will show you
as much for thirty sous as my husband would for three francs."
"Very well; and where is Blacky?"
"He is resting in the sun, in the garden. Already this morning he has
taken some English people to the Caldron. Shall I call him?"
"Yes, call him."
"Blacky! Blacky!"
He came with a leap through the window. He was a rather ugly-looking
little dog, with long frizzy hair, all mussed; he wasn't much to look
at, but he had, however, about him a certain air of gravity, resolution,
and importance. His first glance was at me--a clear, searching,
confident look that took me in from head to toe, and that seemed to say,
"It's a traveller, and he wants to see the Caldron."
One train missed sufficed me for that day, and I was particularly
anxious not to lay myself open to another such experience, so I
explained to the good woman that I had only three hours for my visit to
the Caldron.
"Oh, I know," she said; "you wish to take the four-o'clock train. Don't
be alarmed; Blacky will bring you back in time. Now then, Blacky, off
with you; hurry up!"
But Blacky didn't seem at all disposed to mind. He stayed there
motionless, looking at his mistress with a certain uneasiness.
"Ah, how stupid of me!" said the old woman. "I forgot the sugar;" and
she went to get four pieces of sugar from a drawer, and gave them to me,
saying: "That's why he wouldn't start; you had no sugar. You see,
Blacky, the gentleman has the sugar. Now then, run along with you, sir,
to the Caldron! to the Caldron! to the Caldron!"
She repeated these last words three times, slowly and distinctly, and
during that time I was closely examining Blacky. He acknowledged the
words of his mistress with little movements of the head, which rapidly
became more emphatic, and towards the end he evinced some temper and
impatience. They could be interpreted thus: "Yes, yes, to the Caldron--I
understand. The gentleman has the pieces of sugar, and we are going to
the Caldron--it's settled. Do you take me for a fool?"
And, without waiting for Mme. Simon's third "To the Caldron!" Blacky,
evidently hurt, turned tail, came and placed himself in front of me, and
by his look showed me the door, which told me as plainly as a dog can
tell, "Now then, come along, you!"
I meekly followed him. We two started, he in front, I behind. In this
manner we went through the entire village. The children who were playing
in the street recognized my guide.
"Hello, Blacky! good-morning, Blacky!" They wanted to play with the
dog, but he turned his head with a disdainful air--the air of a dog who
hasn't the time to answer himself, and who is doing his duty and earning
thirty sous. One of the children exclaimed:
"Leave him alone; don't you see he is taking the gentleman to the
Caldron? Good-day, sir!"