On leaving the immense rotunda which formed the principal conservatory,
the head gardener conducted the visitors into other hothouses built on
either side of the main structure. One of these, used as a pinery, led
to another conservatory devoted entirely to orchids, and, in spite of
the humidity and stifling heat, the doctor had considerable difficulty
in tearing Marie Bastien and her son away from the spot, so great was
their wonder and astonishment at the sight of these beautiful but almost
fantastic flowers, some strongly resembling huge butterflies in shape
and colouring, others, winged insects of the most fantastic appearance.
Here M. Dutilleul's domain ended, but he was kind enough to express a
willingness to conduct our friends through the orangery and grapery.
"I promised you China," the doctor said to his friends, "and here we are
in China."
In fact, as they left the orchid house, they found themselves in a
gallery, with columns painted a bright green and scarlet, and paved with
porcelain blocks which were continued up the low wall that served as a
support for the base of the columns. Between these columns stood immense
blue, white, and gold vases, containing camellias, peonies, azaleas, and
lemon-trees. This gallery, which was enclosed with glass in winter, led
to a small Chinese house which formed the centre of a large
winter-garden.
The construction of this house, which had cost infinite care and an
immense outlay of money, dated back to the middle of the eighteenth
century, when the rage for everything Chinese was at its height, as the
famous Chanteloup pagoda, a very tall building, constructed entirely of
china, testifies.
The Chinese house at Pont Brillant was no whit inferior to M. de
Choiseul's famous "folly." The arrangement of this dwelling, which
consisted of several rooms, the hangings, furniture, ornaments, and
household utensils, were all strictly authentic, and to complete the
illusion, two wonderful wax figures, life-size, stood on either side of
the drawing-room door, as if to welcome their visitors, to whom they
ever and anon bowed, thanks to some internal mechanism that made them
move their eyes from side to side, and alternately raise and incline
their heads. The choicest and most curious specimens of lacquer work,
richly embroidered stuffs, furniture, china, gold and silver articles,
and ivory carvings had been collected in this sort of museum.
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Madame Bastien, examining all these treasures
with great curiosity and interest. "See, Frederick, here is a living
book in which one can study the customs, habits, and history of this
singular country, for here is also a collection of medals, coins,
drawings, and manuscripts."
"Say, mother!" exclaimed Frederick, "how pleasantly and profitably one
could spend the long winter evenings here in reading about China, and
comparing, or rather verifying the descriptions in the book with nature,
so to speak."
"M. de Pont Brillant must often visit this curious and interesting
pavilion, I am sure," said Marie, turning to M. Dutilleul.
"M. le marquis has never been a victim to the Chinese craze, madame,"
was the reply. "He likes hunting much better. It was his
great-grandfather who had this house built, because it was the fashion
at that time, that is all."
Marie could not help shrugging her shoulders the least bit in the world,
and exchanging a half-smile with her son, who seemed to become more and
more thoughtful as he followed his mother, to whom the doctor had
offered his arm to conduct her along a winding path leading from the
winter-garden to a rocky grotto, lighted by large, lens-shaped pieces of
blue glass inserted in the rocks, which imparted to this subterranean
chamber, ornamented with beautiful sea-shells and coral, a pale light
similar to that which pervades the depths of the ocean.
"We are going to the home of the water-nymphs now, are we not?" asked
Madame Bastien, gaily, as she began the descent. "Isn't some mermaid
coming to welcome us upon the threshold of her watery empire?"
"Nothing of the kind," replied the doctor. "This subterranean passage,
carpeted, as you see, and always kept warm during the winter, leads to
the chateau; for you must have noticed that all the different buildings
we have seen are connected by covered passages, so in winter one can go
from one to the other without fearing rain or cold."
In fact, this grotto was connected, by a spiral staircase, with the end
of a long gallery called the Guards' Hall, and which in years gone by
had probably served for that purpose. Ten windows of stained glass, with
the Pont Brillant coat-of-arms emblazoned upon them, lighted this
immense room finished in richly carved oak, with a sky ceiling divided
by heavy groins of carved oak.
Ten figures in complete suits of armour, helmet on head, visor down,
halberd in hand, sword at side, were ranged in line on the other side of
the gallery, facing, and directly opposite the ten windows, where the
reflection from the stained glass cast prismatic lights upon the steel
armour, making it stand out in vivid relief against the dark woodwork.
In the middle of this hall, upon a pedestal, was a knight, also in a
complete suit of armour, mounted upon a battle-steed hewn out of wood,
which was entirely hidden by its steel bards and long, richly emblazoned
trappings. The knight's armour, which was heavily embossed with gold,
was a marvel of the goldsmith's art and of elaborate ornamentation, and
M. le chef of the conservatories, pausing in front of the figure, said
with a certain amount of family pride:
"This suit of armour was worn by Raoul IV., Sire de Pont Brillant,
during the First Crusade, which proves beyond a doubt that the nobility
of M. le marquis is of no recent date."
Just then an elderly man, dressed in black, having opened one of the
massive doors of the hall, M. Dutilleul remarked to Doctor Dufour:
"Ah, doctor, here is M. Legris, the keeper of the silver. He is a friend
of mine. I will ask him to show you about. He will prove a much better
guide than I should be."
And advancing toward the old man, M. Dutilleul said:
"My dear Legris, here are some friends of mine who would like to see the
castle. I am going to hand them over to you, and in return, whenever any
of your acquaintances wish to inspect the hothouses--"
"Our friends' friends are our friends, Dutilleul," replied the keeper of
the silver, rather, peremptorily; then, with a rather familiar gesture,
he motioned the visitors to follow him into the apartments which a large
corps of servants had just finished putting in order.
It would take entirely too long to enumerate all the splendid adornments
of this castle, or rather, palace, from the library, which many a large
town might have envied, to a superb picture gallery, containing many of
the finest specimens of both the old and the modern school of art, upon
which the visitors could only cast a hasty glance, for, in spite of the
obliging promise made to M. Dutilleul, the keeper of the castle silver
seemed rather impatient to get rid of his charges.
The first floor, as M. Dufour had said, consisted of an extensive suite
of apartments, each of which might have served as an illustration of
some particular epoch in interior decoration between the fourteenth and
eighteenth centuries; in short, it was a veritable museum, though of an
essentially private character, by reason of the many family portraits
and the valuable relics of every sort and kind which had belonged to
different members of this great and ancient house.
In one of the wings on the second floor were the apartments of the
dowager Marquise de Pont Brillant. In spite of that lady's advanced age,
these rooms had been newly fitted up in the daintiest, most coquettish
style imaginable. There was a profusion of lace and gilding and costly
brocades, as well as of elaborately carved rosewood furniture, and
superb ornaments of Sevres and Dresden china. The bedchamber, hung with
pink and white brocade, with a canopied bedstead decorated with big
bunches of white ostrich feathers, was especially charming. The
dressing-room was really a ravishing boudoir hung with pale blue satin,
studded with marguerites. In the middle of this room, furnished in
gilded rosewood, like the adjoining bedchamber, was a magnificent
dressing-table, draped with costly lace caught back with knots of
ribbon, and covered with toilet articles, some of wrought gold, others
of sky-blue Sevres.
Our three friends had just entered this apartment when a haughty,
arrogant-looking man appeared in the doorway. This personage, who wore a
bit of red ribbon in the buttonhole of his long frock coat, was nothing
more or less than my lord steward of the castle and surrounding domain.
On seeing the three strangers, this high and mighty personage frowned
with an intensely surprised and displeased air.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, imperiously, of his subordinate,
M. Legris. "Why are you not attending to your silver? Who are these
people?"
On hearing these discourteous words, Madame Bastien turned scarlet with
confusion, the little doctor straightened himself up to his full height,
and Frederick rashly muttered, under his breath, "Insolent creature!" as
he stepped a little closer to his mother.
Madame Bastien gave her son's hand a warning pressure, as she slightly
shrugged her shoulder as if to show her disdain.
"They are some friends of Dutilleul's, M. Desmazures," replied M.
Legris, humbly. "He asked me to take them through the chateau, and--and
I thought--"
"Why, this is outrageous!" exclaimed the steward, interrupting him. "I
never heard of such assurance. Such a thing wouldn't be allowed in the
house of a tradesman on the Rue St. Denis! The idea of taking the first
person that comes along into the apartments of madame la marquise, in
this fashion."
"Monsieur," said Doctor Dufour, firmly, walking toward the steward,
"Madame Bastien, her son, and myself, who am M. Dutilleul's physician,
thought we were committing no indiscretion--nor were we--in accepting an
offer to show us the chateau. I have visited several royal residences,
monsieur, and think it well to inform you that I have always been
politely treated by the person in charge of them."
"That is very possible, monsieur," answered the steward, dryly, "but you
doubtless applied to some person who was authorised to give it, for
permission to visit these royal residences. You should have addressed a
written application to me, the steward, and the sole master here in M.
le marquis's absence."
"We must beg monsieur to kindly pardon our ignorance of these
formalities," said Madame Bastien, with a mocking smile, as if to show
her son how little she minded this pompous functionary's discourtesy.
She took Frederick's arm as she spoke.
"If I had been more familiar with the usages of monsieur's
administration," added the doctor, with a sarcastic smile, "monsieur
would have received a respectful request that in his omnipotent goodness
he would kindly grant us permission to inspect the chateau."
"Is that intended as a jest, monsieur?" demanded the steward, angrily.
"Somewhat, monsieur," replied the little doctor.
The irascible functionary took a step forward.
"In order not to close this conversation with a jest, monsieur,"
interposed Madame Bastien, turning to the steward, "permit me to say in
all seriousness, monsieur, that I have often read that the house of any
great nobleman could always be recognised by the urbanity of his
hirelings."
"Well, madame?"
"Well, monsieur, it seems to me that you must desire to prove this
rule--by the exception."
It is impossible to describe the perfect dignity with which Marie
Bastien gave this well-deserved lesson to the arrogant hireling, who bit
his lip with rage, unable to utter a word, whereupon Marie, taking the
doctor's arm, gaily remarked to her companions:
"You should not manifest so much surprise. Don't you know that one often
meets with evil spirits in enchanted countries? It is a satisfaction to
know that they are nearly always of an inferior order. Let us hasten
away with recollections of these wonders which the evil genius cannot
spoil."
* * * * *
A few minutes afterward Madame Bastien, Frederick, and the doctor left
the castle. Marie, out of consideration for the doctor, who seemed
greatly pained at this contretemps, as well as by reason of her natural
good nature, bore her share of their mutual discomfiture cheerfully,
even gaily, and laughed not a little at the absurdly important airs the
steward had given himself. M. Dufour, who cared nothing about the man's
rudeness except so far as it might affect Madame Bastien, soon recovered
his natural good spirits when he saw how little importance his fair
companion seemed to attach to the affair.
A quarter of an hour afterward the three friends were sitting in the
shade of a clump of gigantic oaks, enjoying their lunch. Frederick,
though he manifested some little constraint of manner, seemed to share
his companions' high spirits, but Marie, too clear-sighted not to notice
that her son was not exactly himself, fancied she could divine the cause
of his preoccupation, and teased him a little about the importance he
seemed to attach to the steward's impertinence.
"Come, come, my handsome Cid, my valiant cavalier," she said, gaily,
"keep your anger and your trusty blade for an adversary worthy of you.
The doctor and I both gave the ill-bred fellow a good lesson. Now let us
think only of ending the day as pleasantly as possible, and of the
pleasure it will give us for weeks to come to talk of the treasures of
every kind that we have seen."
Then, with a laugh, the young mother added:
"Say, Frederick, don't forget to-morrow morning to tell old Andre, M. le
chef of our open-air garden, not to forget to bring us a bouquet of
lilies of the valley and violets."
"Yes, mother," answered Frederick, smiling.
"And I wish you would also have the goodness to tell M. le chef of our
stables to harness our venerable white horse in the afternoon, as we
must go to the village to do some shopping."
"And I, madame," exclaimed the doctor, with his mouth full of cake,
"take great pleasure in assuring you, or, rather, I should say, in
proving to you that your old Marguerite, the chef of your culinary
department, is a none-such, so far as cake-making is concerned,--for
this cake is certainly--"
But the good doctor did not finish the sentence, as he choked badly in
his effort to talk and eat at the same time.
So with gay jests and laughter the meal went on, and Frederick tried his
best to share his companions' hilarity; but the lad's mirth was
constrained, he was conscious of a strange and increasing feeling of
annoyance. As certain vague and inexplicable symptoms presage the
invasion of a still latent malady, so certain vague and inexplicable
sentiments seemed to be germinating in Frederick's heart. The nature of
these sentiments, though as yet not very clearly defined, caused him a
feeling of instinctive shame, so much so, in fact, that he, who had
always been so confiding with his mother, now dreaded her penetration
for the first time in his life, and deliberately set to work to deceive
her by feigning all the rest of the day a gaiety that he was far from
feeling.