to one another! Their hearts are rich at all events! And the people who
roll in wealth are sometimes very poor in that respect.--Might we not
see Poucette, madame," she asked the peasant, "so that we may find out
at once whether or not we may count upon her?"
"Well, yes! but just now she's at our little piece of land with
Claudine, planting potatoes, because Guillot's got some work at Monsieur
Luminot's."
"Is your piece of land far from here?"
"Oh, no! not so very far; if you'd like to go there--you see I can't
show you the way myself, and Mariette is doing something for me just
now.--Père Ledrux, you know where our field is."
"Let me see! Pardi! to be sure I do; it's right alongside of
Gros-Pierre's field, where he's set out plum trees that don't grow."
"That's right; then you can take these ladies there."
"Yes, yes! Pardi! while I'm about it, I might as well lose my whole day;
it will go in with the rest."
"Very well; continue to be our guide, Père Ledrux, and let us go to find
Poucette. After all, it will make us acquainted with the
country.--Good-morning, madame; we are going to see your niece, and if
my proposition is satisfactory to her, that arrangement will be made."
"You won't be sorry, for she's a good girl. Your servant, mesdames."
The two friends set off once more, still preceded by the gardener, who
led them across the country, saying:
"This time it's in just the opposite direction; we have got to go toward
Gournay."
"Is it a long distance?"
"Faith! it's quite a little piece."
"How does it happen," said Agathe, "that a man buys land so far from his
house?"
"Well! mamzelle, sometimes one inherits it, or else he gets it at a
bargain. I believe that Guillot got this piece of land of his from his
father-in-law, but I'm afraid he won't keep it long."
"Why so?"
"Oh! I have an idea that it's pretty well mortgaged! I've often seen
Guillot going to Monsieur Jarnouillard's, and bless me! round here, when
you say: 'He goes to Jarnouillard's,' that means that his affairs are in
bad shape, that he needs money!"
"Poor people! But Poucette's uncle is a hard-working man, you said?"
"To be sure; but you understand, when you have to feed so many
mouths--and then the potatoes being bad last year, and that was
Guillot's only crop! When you count on a thing and it goes back on you,
why, it's rather upsetting!--Tutu--turlututu!"
XX
THE ENVIRONS OF CHELLES.--POUCETTE.--AMI
"We're heading now as if we was going to Gournay," said the gardener,
trotting in front of the two ladies; "this will help you to know the way
when you want to go to walk in the neighborhood; and especially if you
happen to feel like eating a _matelote_; for Gournay's famous for them,
you know."
The peasant led them past the railroad station, which is on the road
from Chelles to Gournay. Beyond the station they found themselves on a
fine road bordered by tall poplars and enclosed by ditches filled with
water, which prevented passers-by from walking in the fields on the
other side of the ditches.
Both to the right and left the country was flat for some distance; it
was a beautiful valley interspersed with coverts arranged for the
express purpose of affording the game a place of rest and shelter.
"This is a very fine road," said Agathe, after they had been walking on
it for ten minutes, "but it is too straight, too monotonous; I don't
like roads where you never can tell whether you are going forward; is it
like this very much longer?"
"No, mamzelle. Look; where you see that stone on the left, we make a
turn, and then we shall have Gournay before us, and the view is more
varied."
In fact, after turning to the left, they could see the Marne, whose
placid green waters conceal many rocks dangerous to vessels and to
bathers. The outlook was charming: on the left they saw a mill which
reached boldly to the very centre of the river, supported by numerous
piles. There were obstructions, too, to warn boatmen that they must not
venture near, and that the passage was dangerous when it was not
impossible. And the water, passing over these obstructions, formed
cascades and waterfalls which gave life to the picture; while numerous
little islands above the mill added still more to the charm of the
landscape.
In another direction a tall hedge enclosed a park belonging to an estate
called the _Maison Blanche_; then there were more pastures and fields
and coverts.
"Ah! this is lovely!" exclaimed the girl, when she saw the river. "How
pretty the water is, my dear! it makes a landscape beautiful instantly.
I don't call those horrid ditches by the roadside water. We will come
here often to walk, won't we, Honorine?"
"It's rather far from Chelles; however, we shall come here, no doubt."
"I intend to learn to fish, my dear; you must teach me the way."
"But I know no more about it than you do!"
"Never fear," said the peasant; "when you have a stout line, and when
you've found out a place where there's fish, it goes all alone; but
you'll have to buy a license though."
"What bridge is that ahead of us?"
"That bridge leads to Gournay, then to Noisy-le-Grand, then to
Montfermeil, if you choose; but you have to pay to cross; it's a toll, a
charge--I don't know what they call it; but it's a sou each. It seems
that it cost three hundred thousand francs to build, and they want to
get the money back; there's eighty years still that we've got to pay,
but after that we can pass for nothing. As I don't like to put out a
sou, I don't often cross; I'm waiting till it's free."
"Don't be afraid," said Honorine with a smile; "we will pay for you."
"Oh! it ain't worth while; we haven't got to cross the bridge to get to
Guillot's field; it's to our left, on the bank of the river."
"But while we are here, I should be glad to know what there is on the
other side of the bridge."
"Bless my soul! there's nothing but Gournay, a small village, a quiet
little place that don't make much noise in the world. Bless me! there's
only a hundred and twenty-five to a hundred and thirty people, at most,
and you can guess it ain't likely to be as lively as Paris!"
"True; and if all the villages roundabout are as small, I understand why
we have not met, or even seen, a single living being since we left
Chelles. Doesn't it seem strange to you, Agathe, to walk for
three-quarters of an hour in the country without meeting anyone?"
"Yes, my dear; but I have been fancying that I was walking on my own
property, and that all the land in sight belonged to me."
"Indeed, one might well have that illusion. See: even on the river,
although it is very beautiful, there is not a vessel in sight: no
steamboats, no barges, no skiffs, no washerwomen, not even a single
fisherman on the shore! It's as deserted as the surrounding country!"
"Oh! sometimes there's loads of wood go down the Marne; I've seen 'em!"
"Those must be noteworthy days."
"The trouble is, you see, the Marne's as sly as the devil; it has holes
and lots of grass. You have to know it well to risk it in a boat; and
better, to bathe in it."
"But I don't object to this solitude, this perfect quiet."
"And then, at Chelles it isn't like this; you meet people there."
"True; we met as many as three people on our way to that poor
farmer's.--So we do not need to cross the bridge, you say?"
"No, madame, there's Guillot's field at our left."
"And the Tower," said Agathe; "why don't we see it from here?"
"Because we're in a hollow; but it's over yonder, behind Gournay, toward
Noisy-le-Grand. You wait till you see all this six weeks from now; then
the trees will be green and the shrubs in flower, and it'll be much
brighter than it is now."
"You are right, Père Ledrux."
"Look, there's Guillot's field, and I see Poucette digging."
Poucette was a tall, strong girl, with the bronzed skin of those who
work in the fields. But her round face was honest and good-humored, her
black eyes met yours unflinchingly, albeit without the slightest touch
of boldness in their expression; and when she smiled, as she did very
frequently, she showed a double row of teeth whose whiteness formed a
striking contrast to her brown skin.
A little girl of eleven or twelve, with the head of a boy, whose hair,
cut _à la Titus_, presented the aspect of a hedgehog, was working by
Poucette's side; it was Claudine, the farmer's oldest child.
The two villagers stopped their work to look at the two young women who
were coming toward them. In a region where you may walk all day without
meeting a cat, one may be forgiven for suspending work to stare at two
stylishly dressed ladies.
"Look! that's Père Ledrux!" suddenly exclaimed Poucette.
"Yes, my girl, and I have brought two ladies who want to speak to you."
"To me, Père Ledrux? Bah! you're joking! We don't know any fine ladies."
"You're going to know some; don't I tell you that madame's come here for
you--to take you with her? Well! what do you say to that?"
The young peasant flushed to the hair and seemed dumfounded.
Madame Dalmont walked toward her.
"Mademoiselle," she said, "I am looking for a young girl to enter my
service; for my friend and I are coming to live at Chelles."
"These ladies have bought Monsieur Courtivaux's house; you know where it
is."
"There are only two of us, my young friend here and myself; so that you
will have only us to wait upon, and you will not have very severe
mistresses to get along with. Tell me if you think that it will suit you
to live with us. We have just seen your aunt, who thinks that you will
do well to accept; but she leaves you entirely free to refuse the place
if it does not please you."
"And you'll have your board and lodging and washing and they'll give you
ten francs a month besides; that's not bad, eh?" said Père Ledrux.
Poucette's face became radiant.
"Oh! certainly the place does suit me!" she cried; "and I don't ask
anything better than to take it. In the first place it'll be a relief to
my uncle and aunt, who have to support me now; but if I earn money, I
can help them in my turn, and that will make me very happy."
"I see that you are an excellent girl, my child; and if, as I hope, you
serve me faithfully, I promise to increase your wages later."
"You are very kind, madame; I'll do my best. But, you see, I don't know
many things, and if I've got to cook, I'm afraid I am not very clever."
"If you are willing, that is enough; I will show you, and you will soon
learn."
"As for the will, madame will see that I have plenty of that."
"Well, then, it's a bargain. You accept, do you not? I may rely on you?"
"Certainly, madame, with great thankfulness!"
At that moment they heard a plaintive sort of groan soon followed by
sobs. It was the little girl with the head like a hedgehog, crying like
a baby.
"Dear, dear! what's the matter, Claudine?" inquired Poucette, turning
toward the child, who replied between her sobs:
"You're going to go away from our house, and I shan't see you any more!
I don't want Poucette to go away, I don't!"
This outburst of artless, sincere grief moved the two friends, who tried
to pacify the little peasant by saying to her:
"Why, my child, you will still see Poucette; she isn't going to leave
Chelles, for we are coming here to live. You can come to see her
whenever you have time; we shall never prevent you; on the contrary, we
shall be very glad when you come."
"Do you hear, Claudine? these ladies will let you come to see me, and
you can help me when I clear up the garden!"
"The garden! oh! that's my business," muttered Ledrux; "you won't have
anything to do with taking care of that; you don't know anything about
it; a fine mess you'd make of it!"
The little girl looked at the two ladies and sighed. Agathe unfastened a
velvet ribbon that she wore about her neck and placed it about the
girl's, saying:
"See, this is to console you a little."
Instantly the child smiled through her tears and cried:
"Oh! look, Poucette! the lovely ribbon! see how pretty it is!"
"Yes, you see that these ladies are very kind to you already!"
"Pardi! if you give 'em gewgaws and finery," said the gardener, "you'll
soon make friends with 'em."
"So much the better, Père Ledrux; that is what we want. I am sure that
this child cares more for the bit of ribbon than for rabbits."
"Am I to go with you right away, madame?" said Poucette, dropping her
spade.
"No, my child, not yet; we are going back to Paris for a few days. But
when we return to Chelles for good, you must come to us at once."
"Shall you return soon, madame?"
"As soon as possible; I think that in a week we shall have done all that
we have to do in Paris. But meanwhile I will give you your earnest
money."
Honorine had taken from her pocket a dainty purse, and was about to open
it, when an enormous dog suddenly appeared in the middle of the field
and bounded toward Poucette, glancing with a most impertinent expression
at all the other persons present.
"Look out! look out! that's the dog from the Tower!" cried Père Ledrux,
retreating several steps.
"Yes, it's Ami," said Poucette; "oh! I ain't afraid of him, nor Claudine
either; he knows us well and he ain't a bit ugly! Don't be afraid,
mesdames, he won't hurt you."
The two friends gazed curiously at the dog, of whom they had already
heard. Ami was of the Newfoundland breed, but seemed to have a trace of
shepherd blood. His eyes indicated a degree of intelligence which many
people deny to the Newfoundland, which, they claim, is good for nothing
but to fish up a drowned man or save people from falling over a
precipice, which, in our judgment, would be a sufficient proof of
intelligence.--But in addition to these qualities, the dog from the
Tower possessed all those of all other breeds; moreover, nature seemed
to have endowed him with the gift of divination; for he would divine a
given person's sentiments for his master, and his instinct never
deceived him. He knew better than his master himself who were his
friends and who his enemies. That extraordinary perspicacity--of which
men are rarely possessed--proved that prodigies of intelligence may be
found among dogs of the Newfoundland breed.
Generally speaking, there is no rule without an exception. Some people
claim that men with low foreheads are deficient in wits, while a high
forehead is the appanage of genius. We have known some very intellectual
low foreheads, and some high ones behind which there was nothing but
dense stupidity.
Ami was white, except for a few brown spots on his back, and one on top
of his head. His tail ended in a large plume; his muzzle was broad, his
ears of medium size, and his black eyes gleamed with extraordinary fire;
they seemed to long to speak. He understood perfectly whatever was said
to him and did whatever his master ordered, much better than most
servants. Such was the dog that suddenly appeared in Guillot's field.
His appearance was so unexpected that Madame Dalmont, who was opening
her purse at the moment, was unable to restrain a movement of alarm, and
in that movement she dropped a two-franc piece from her purse. She had
not discovered the loss when Ami picked the coin up with his teeth and
placed it at her feet, as if to say:
"Take your money, which I have picked up for you."
"Oh! the beautiful dog!" cried Agathe; "see, dear, he picks up the coin
you dropped and returns it to you!"
"That's so, on my word!" said Ledrux. "I tell you, everybody wouldn't be
as honest as he is! But, I say, as the dog's here, the master can't be
far off."
"No, no, Monsieur Paul isn't far away," said Poucette; "I see him coming
over there toward the mill."
"The owner of the Tower? Oh! where is he? show him to us!" cried the two
friends almost at once.
"I don't see but what you're almost as curious as Madame Droguet!"
chuckled the gardener. "But never you fear; you'll see my gentleman, and
near to at that, for he'll certainly pass here on his way home."
"Do you think he will pass by here?"
"Yes, madame," said Poucette; "Monsieur Paul is going across the bridge
and home by way of Gournay. If he wasn't coming this way, his dog would
have left us before this, sure."
The two friends looked toward the mill and saw a man wearing a cap with
a long vizor and dressed in hunting costume, with a gun over his
shoulder, walking rapidly along the bank of the river.
"I thought that hunting was prohibited now," said Honorine.
"Yes, madame," said Poucette; "but he don't hunt; he carries his gun as
he would a cane. Nobody says anything to him for that, because he's well
known all about here now, and everybody knows he ain't a poacher."
"He don't always carry his gun," said little Claudine. "Day before
yesterday I met him by the Maison Rouge, and he didn't have anything in
his hand but a stick."
"He's coming nearer; you can see his face now."
"None too well," said Agathe; "for my part, my dear, I can see nothing
but his beard. Great heaven! what a beard! it's enough to frighten one!"
"Ami, there's your master; go after him.--Why, that's funny! he don't
pay any attention to me; he seems to be all taken up with mamzelle!"
Ami, in fact, kept his eyes fixed on Agathe; he walked all about her as
if to examine her on all sides, then returned to his place in front of
her and gazed at her anew.
"Good dog! I have a good mind to pat you!" said Agathe; "for it seems as
if you were inviting me to, and as if you would like it; but I don't
quite dare to risk it, I might mistake your intentions."
"Oh! there's no danger, mamzelle," said Poucette; "it's plain enough
that you've won Ami's heart! If he didn't like you, he'd growl so that
you couldn't make a mistake; you can tell right away when he's in a bad
humor.--Why, look! he's rubbing his head against you now! that's funny;
I never saw him so friendly with anyone!"
"Perhaps mamzelle has something to eat about her," said the gardener
slyly.
"No, Père Ledrux, I have nothing about me!" retorted Agathe; "and you
slander this dog by suggesting that gluttony has anything to do with the
friendly feeling he shows me.--Come, Ami, come; let me pat you; I am
very glad to have made your acquaintance, for hereafter I shall know
that I needn't be afraid of you."
As she spoke the girl patted the dog, who made no objection and wagged
his tail in token of satisfaction.
Meanwhile his master approached, walking very fast and looking straight
before him. But when he arrived at Guillot's field, he glanced aside and
saw his dog surrounded by five persons; whereupon he immediately called
him in a loud voice:
"Here, Ami, here! come at once!"
The noble beast, obedient to his master's voice, turned his back on the
little group; but as he trotted away he turned several times and looked
back at Agathe.
His master had reached the bridge and was almost across, when the dog
stopped in the middle, turned toward Agathe and began to bark loudly, as
if to send her a last adieu.
"That's funny! that's funny!" exclaimed Poucette; "that the dog from the
Tower should take such a liking to mamzelle right off."
"Dear me! we shall miss the train!" said Honorine; "it goes at four
o'clock; doesn't it, Père Ledrux?"
"Yes, madame, but it ain't that yet."
"But we have to go back to the station, and it's some distance. Here, my
child, take these three francs; it's your earnest money."
"Oh! madame is too kind! Look, Claudine, she gave me three francs!"
Little Claudine was engrossed by the velvet ribbon that had been placed
about her neck.
"Now let us go, Agathe.--Good-bye, Poucette; we shall see you soon."
"I will be ready when madame comes."
"Very good; au revoir."
"Good-bye, Claudine."
The little hedgehog-headed one smiled, but could not find a word to say
in reply; her ribbon absorbed all her faculties.
The two friends hurried off to the station; and as the gardener left
them he said:
"Now it's all settled, I may as well take the rabbits away; that will
relieve you just so much."
"Yes, yes, Père Ledrux, take the rabbits."
"As for the hens--why, you can see about them later."
"I have already said that we would keep the hens."
"I know; but if you should ever change your mind--however, it will be
time enough then."
Honorine and Agathe took the train, the former still thinking of the
savage aspect of the owner of the Tower; the other recalling with
pleasure Ami's caresses.
XXI
AN ASSIGNATION IN A COUPÉ
After an absence of several days, Freluchon returned home one morning.
He came from Rouen alone, having left the young Pompadour there, making
eyes at the _jeune premier_ of the Grand Theatre; as Freluchon was
beginning to weary of his conquest and was on the lookout for an
opportunity to break with her, he did not fail to seize that one. After
a tremendous outburst of jealousy, on leaving the theatre where the
_jeune premier_ had made a great hit in _An Odd Bet_, a vaudeville from
the _Variétés_, Freluchon had abandoned his faithless fair and taken the
train for Paris.
When he entered the courtyard of his house, he cried:
"How dear to every noble heart one's native land!
With rapture I once more behold this blest abode!"
His concierge interrupted him in the middle of his declamation to say:
"Monsieur, your friend Monsieur Edmond Didier has been here almost every
day to ask for you."
"Indeed! dear Edmond! Is he in such haste to see me?"
"And then another one of your friends, Monsieur Chamoureau, whose
clothes you have kept since Mi-Carême, and who is very angry with you.
He often comes twice a day to know if you have returned."
"What's that? Chamoureau angry! Oh, well! he'll calm down! Why, one
would think he hadn't any other clothes to put on--a man with a real
estate office!--Poor Chamoureau! I would have liked to find him still
dressed as a Spaniard; I should have enjoyed that! But, to console him,
I'll give him a stick of sugar-candy that I brought from Rouen, where
they cost more than they do in Paris; to be sure, they're made in
Rouen."
Freluchon had not been at home an hour, when his doorbell rang
violently; he went to open the door, saying to himself:
"That's Chamoureau, I'll bet; if he's still out of temper I'll talk to
him about Eléonore and make him weep."
But it was not the business agent, it was Edmond who entered his
friend's apartment.
"Well, you have returned at last!" he said; "that's fortunate! I have
been longing for you; I wanted to see you!"
Freluchon planted himself in front of Edmond, who had thrown himself on
a couch, and gazed at him with a look of amazement, as he replied:
"This eager desire to see me flatters as much as it surprises me! not
that I doubt your friendship, but between young men friendship never
goes so far as ennui because of absence; we have too much to distract
our thoughts. Something has gone wrong in your love-affairs. Amélia has
indulged in some new escapade!"
"As if Amélia had anything to do with it! I haven't seen her for a
week."
"Have you had a row?"
"Oh, no! I think no more about her than if I had never known her."
"Ah! that is better, and I congratulate you. But if you have ceased to
think of her, I'll stake Chamoureau's coat against twenty-five sous that
it's because you are thinking of somebody else!"
"Yes, yes! I am thinking of somebody else! but this time--Ah! Freluchon,
this is no mere caprice, no amourette; it isn't one of those passions to
which desire alone gives birth; ah, no! I feel that I am truly in love,
in love for the first time; and this love bears no resemblance to the
others! If you knew how it changes one, how timid, humble, respectful
one becomes! how little it takes to make one happy! how a trifle causes
one to feel the keenest, sweetest sensation! But I can't make you
understand all that; no, it's impossible. To form a conception of love,
you must be in love yourself; without that, you cannot comprehend the
happiness and the torments it causes."
"Sapristi! here's a kettle of fish! What, can it be you, Edmond, that
fickle, heedless youth, who have got caught in this fashion! And who is
the lady with the camellias, or with the white carnations, who----"
"Ah! Freluchon, you are all wrong; there is no question here of one of
those great coquettes or of those fashionable courtesans who take
delight in making numerous conquests and to whom all men do homage. No,
it is not a woman of the world--_monde_--or of the demi-monde; it is a
carefully reared, virtuous girl, and pretty--ah! as pretty as the most
beautiful of the angels!"
"Oho! that makes a difference! Where did you find this jewel?"
"At Chamoureau's."