As the two octogenarians started slowly down the path leading to Grand
Sire's Rock, Zerbinette remarked to her mistress:
"You were going to tell the story of the osprey, madame."
"Oh, yes. You recollect how jealous President de Lunel was of the
chevalier. Well, one day I said to him, 'Sigismond, wouldn't you like to
help me play a fine joke upon the chevalier?' 'I should be delighted,
marquise.' 'But to do it, Sigismond, you must know how to imitate the
cry of the osprey perfectly.' You can imagine the look on the
president's face when I told him that; but when I said to him, 'Learn
it, Sigismond, and as soon as you know it we will have a good laugh at
the poor chevalier's expense,' he promised he would begin that very
evening, as there were plenty of them in the neighbourhood. When the
president had learned to imitate the cry, I made an appointment to meet
the chevalier here at dusk. I came a little in advance of the time, in
company with the president, whom I ensconced in the sort of cave at
Grand Sire's Rock. 'Now, Sigismond, listen carefully to what I am going
to say to you,' I began. 'The chevalier will soon be here. You are to
count one thousand, so as to give him time to press his suit. I, too,
will count a thousand, but not until we get to nine hundred and
ninety-eight will I show any signs of softening toward the chevalier.
Then you must begin to utter your osprey cries.' 'Capital, marquise,
capital!' 'Hush, you bad boy, and listen to me. I shall say to the
chevalier, "Oh, that horrid bird! I am frightfully superstitious about
the osprey. Run to the chateau and get a gun to kill the hateful thing,
and afterward we will see." The chevalier will run to get the gun, and
then, my dear Sigismond, I will join you in the cave.' 'Really,
marquise, you are the most charming little devil imaginable!' 'Hide,
hide quick! here comes the chevalier.' And poor Lunel withdrew into his
hole and began to count one, two, three, four, etc., while I went to
join the chevalier."
"I can see the dear president's face now, as he carefully counted one,
two, three, four, while the chevalier was with you," exclaimed
Zerbinette, laughing like mad.
"All I can tell you, girl, is that though I had promised poor Lunel not
to soften toward the chevalier until we had got to nine hundred and
ninety-eight, I really didn't count more than ten. After awhile, the
president, who had finished his thousand, began to play the osprey with
all his might, and his strange, shrill, wild cries seemed to disturb the
chevalier so much that I said:
"'It is the osprey. Run to the chateau and get a gun to kill the horrid
thing. I hate the abominable creature so I long to tear it in pieces
with my own hands. Run and get the gun. I will wait for you here.' 'What
a strange whim, marquise. It is getting very dark, and you will be
afraid here in the forest alone.' 'Nonsense, chevalier, I am no coward.
Run to the chateau and come back as soon as you can.' It was quite time,
my girl, for when I went to the poor president, his voice had begun to
fail him, but fortunately he was all right again in a minute."
"And when the chevalier returned, madame?"
"He found the president and me not far from the place where we are now.
'You have come at last, chevalier,' I called out to him at a distance;
'but for the president, whom I met by chance, I should have died of
fear.' 'I told you so, marquise,' he replied. 'And the osprey, I think I
must have frightened him off, for I haven't heard him since I met the
marquise,' replied the president. 'But, by the way, my dear chevalier,'
added poor Lunel, innocently, 'do you know that the cry of the osprey
always indicates some calamity?' and as he spoke the president slyly
squeezed my left arm. 'Yes, my dear president, I have always heard that
the cry is prophetic of evil,' responded the chevalier, squeezing my
right arm. Afterward, when I went crazy over that actor, Clairville, he
and I had many a good laugh over this little affair with the president
and the chevalier, so for a long time 'It is the osprey' was a sort of
proverb among the people of our set."
"Alas! those were fine times, madame."
"Oh, hush up, Zerbinette, with your alases! Those good times will come
again."
"But when, madame?"
"Why, in the next world, of course. That was what I used to nearly wear
myself out telling Abbe Robertin, who used to go nearly crazy over those
delicious white truffles my cousin Doria used to send me. 'Well, madame
la marquise, it is surely better to believe in that sort of an
immortality than in nothing at all,' he used to reply, while he went on
cramming himself. In other words, my girl, I expect to get my girlhood
again, and all that goes with it, when I reach paradise."
"God grant it, madame," responded Zerbinette, devoutly. "Sixteen is
certainly a delightful age."
"That is exactly what I said to myself yesterday while I was watching my
grandson. What ardour and enthusiasm he displayed during the hunt! He's
a handsome--But look, here is Grand Sire's Rock. It was in that little
cave that the poor president played the part of an osprey."
"Don't go any closer to it, for Heaven's sake, madame. There may be some
wild beast in it."
"I thought of going in to rest awhile."
"Don't think of such a thing, madame. It must be as damp as a cellar in
there."
"That's a fact, so set my chair under this oak-tree, there on the sunny
side. That is right. Where will you find a seat, Zerbinette?"
"Over there on that rock. It is a little closer to the cave than I like,
but never mind."
"We were speaking of my grandson just now. He is a handsome fellow,
there is no doubt about it."
"There is a certain viscountess who seems to be of the same opinion. It
is always M. Raoul this, or M. Raoul that, and I have seen--"
"You have seen, you have seen--Why, you see nothing at all, girl. The
viscountess takes a little notice of the boy merely to blind her idiot
of a husband, so he won't get mad and make a fuss when M. de Monbreuil,
the viscountess's lover arrives, for I have invited him to come in a few
days. There is nothing that makes a house as lively and interesting as
to have a lot of lovers about, so I invite all I know; but it is strange
you haven't seen through the lady's manoeuvre. I warned my grandson,
for I feared the innocent, unsophisticated fellow might come to grief,
the viscountess is so charming."
"Innocent, unsophisticated!" exclaimed Zerbinette, shaking her head.
"You're mistaken about that, madame, for his infatuation for the
mistress doesn't keep him from playing the deuce with her maid."
"Dear boy! Is that really true, Zerbinette? Is there anything worth
looking at among the women the viscountess brought with her?"
"There is one tall blonde with dark eyes, plump as a partridge, with a
complexion like milk, and the loveliest figure--"
"And you think that Raoul--"
"You know, madame, that at his age--"
"_Pardi!_" exclaimed the marquise, taking another pinch of snuff. "That
reminds me," she continued, after a moment's reflection, "you know all
about everybody in the neighbourhood, who is it that leads the life of a
hermitess in that lonely farmhouse on the Pont Brillant road? You know
the place; the house is covered with vines, and there is a porch of
rustic work very much like that house my grandson has just been building
for his fawns."
"Oh, yes, I know, madame. It is Madame Bastien who lives there."
"And who is Madame Bastien?"
"Did you hear that, madame?" asked Zerbinette, breathlessly.
"What?"
"Why, there in the cave. I heard something moving in there."
"Nonsense, Zerbinette, how silly you are! It is the wind rustling the
ivy leaves."
"Do you really think so, madame?"
"There isn't the slightest doubt of it. But, tell me, who is this Madame
Bastien?"
"She is the wife of a real estate agent. I suppose you would call him
that, for he travels about the country buying tracts of land which he
afterward subdivides and sells. He is scarcely ever at home."
"Ah, he is scarcely ever at home, that would be a great advantage, eh,
Zerbinette. But tell me, is it true that this little Bastien is as
pretty as people say?"
"She's a beauty, there's no doubt about it, madame. You remember Madame
la Marechale de Rubempre, don't you?"
"Yes, and this young woman?"
"Is as beautiful as she was, perhaps even more so."
"And her figure?"
"Is perfect."
"That is what Raoul told me after he met her in the fields the other
day. But who is that big sallow boy who was with her? Some scallawag of
a brother probably. It might be a good idea to get him out of the way by
giving him a position as clerk in the steward's office with a salary of
twelve or fifteen hundred francs a year."
"Good heavens, madame!" exclaimed Zerbinette, springing up in alarm,
"there's somebody in the cave. Didn't you hear that noise?"
"Yes, I heard it," replied the intrepid dowager, "what of it?"
"Oh, madame, let us get away as quick as we can."
"I sha'n't do anything of the kind."
"But that noise, madame."
"He, he!" laughed the countess. "Perhaps it is the soul of the poor
president come back to count one, two, three, four, etc. Sit down, and
don't interrupt me again."
"You have always had the courage of a dragon, madame."
"There's no cause for alarm, you goose. Some osprey or some wild animal
may have sought shelter there. I want to know who that big hulking boy
was that Raoul saw with that Bastien woman,--her brother, eh?"
"No, madame, her son."
"Her son; why, in that case--"
"She was married when she was very young, and she is so admirably
preserved that she doesn't look a day over twenty."
"That must be so, for Raoul took a desperate fancy to her. 'She has big,
dark blue eyes, grandmother,' he said to me, 'a waist one can span with
his two hands, and features as regular as those on an antique cameo.
Only these plebeians are so little versed in the customs of good society
that this one opened her big eyes in astonishment, merely because I was
polite enough to take her a mantle she had dropped.' 'If she is as
pretty as you say, you young simpleton, you ought to have kept the
mantle, and taken it to her house. That would have gained you an
entrance there.' 'But, grandmother,' replied the dear boy, very
sensibly, 'it was by returning the mantle I found out that she was so
pretty.'"
"Oh, well, M. Raoul could easily have gone to her house a few days
afterward. She would have been delighted to see him, even if it were
only to make all the _bourgeoisie_ in the country, wild with envy."
"That is exactly what I told the dear child, but he did not dare to
venture."
"Give him a little time, and he'll get his courage up, never fear."
"I tell you, my girl," resumed the dowager, after quite a long silence,
as she slowly and thoughtfully took another pinch of snuff, "I tell you
that the more I think of it, the more convinced I am that for many
reasons this little Bastien would just suit the dear boy, that she would
be a perfect godsend to him, in fact."
"I think so, too, madame."
"So we had better strike while the iron is hot," continued the dowager.
"What time is it, Zerbinette?"
"Half-past four, madame," said the attendant, glancing at her watch.
"That gives us plenty of time. This morning when my grandson left to
spend the day with the Merinvilles at Boncour, I promised him I would
meet him at the lake at five o'clock, so we must make haste."
"But, madame, you forget that M. Raoul sent his groom to tell you that
he was going to pay a call at Montel after leaving Boncour, and that he
would not return to the chateau before seven."
"Yes, yes, you are right, girl. I must give up seeing him immediately
then, for to return from Montel he will have to take the Vieille Coupe
road, and that is too steep for me, for I'm a perfect coward in a
carriage; besides, as it is only half-past four, I should have to drive
too far to meet him, so I will postpone my conversation on the subject
of the hermitess until this evening. Give me your arm, Zerbinette, and
let us start, but first let me take another look at this famous rock."
"Don't go too near though, madame, for Heaven's sake."
But in spite of Zerbinette's protest she walked up to the rock, and,
casting an almost melancholy glance at the wild spot, exclaimed:
"Ah, there is no change in the rocks. They look exactly as they did
sixty years ago."
Then after a moment's silence, turning gaily to Zerbinette, who was
holding herself prudently aloof, the dowager added:
"That story of the osprey has recalled hundreds of other pleasant
reminiscences. I've a great mind to amuse myself by writing my memoirs
some day. They might serve both to instruct and edify my grandson," the
octogenarian continued, with a hearty laugh, in which Zerbinette joined.
For several minutes the sound of their laughter could be distinctly
heard as the two slowly wended their way down the path.
When the sound had entirely died away, Frederick, his face livid, his
expression frightful to behold, emerged from the cave where he had heard
every word of the conversation between the dowager-marquise and
Zerbinette, and, gun in hand, hastened toward another part of the
forest.