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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Bagpipers - -Author: George Sand - -Release Date: October 10, 2021 [eBook #66513] -[Most recently updated: October 16, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAGPIPERS *** - - - - - - -[Frontispiece: Thereupon he blew into his flute.] - - - -[Illustration: Title page] - - - - THE BAGPIPERS - - BY - - GEORGE SAND - - - - BOSTON - LITTLE, BROWN - AND COMPANY - - - - - _Copyright_, 1890, - BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. - - - UNIVERSITY PRESS: - JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. - - - - -TO M. EUGÈNE LAMBERT. - -MY DEAR CHILD,--As you like to hear me relate the tales told by the -peasants at our _veillées_,--I mean the watch-nights of my youth, -when I had time to listen to them,--I shall try to recall the story -of Étienne Depardieu, and piece together the scattered fragments of -it still remaining in my memory. It was told to me by the man -himself during several of the _breyage_ evenings,--a name given, as -you know, to the late hours of the night spent in grinding hemp, when -those present relate their village chronicles. It is long since Père -Depardieu slept the sleep of the just, and he was quite old when he -told me this story of the naïve adventures of his youth. For this -reason I shall try to let him speak for himself, imitating his manner -as closely as I can. You will not blame me for insisting on so -doing, because you know from experience that the thoughts and -emotions of a peasant cannot be rendered in our own style of language -without making them unnatural and giving them a tone of even shocking -affectation. - -You also know by experience, that the peasantry guess or comprehend -much more than we believe them capable of understanding; and you have -often been struck with their sudden insight, which, even in matters -of art, has an appearance of revelation. If I were to tell you in my -language and yours certain things which you have heard and understood -in theirs, you would find those very things so unlike what is natural -to these people that you would accuse me of unconsciously putting -something of my own into the relation, and of attributing to the -peasantry reflections and feelings which they could not have. It -suffices to introduce into the expression of their ideas a single -word that is not in their vocabulary to raise a doubt as to whether -the idea itself emanated from them. But when we listen to their -speech, we at once observe that although they may not have, like us, -a choice of words suited to every shade of thought, yet they -assuredly have words enough to formulate what they think and to -describe what strikes their senses. - -Therefore it is not, as some have reproachfully declared, for the -petty pleasure of producing a style hitherto unused in literature, -and still less to revive ancient forms of speech and old expressions -which all the world knows and is familiar with, that I have bound -myself to the humble task of preserving to Étienne Depardieu's tale -the local color that belongs to it. It is, rather, because I find it -impossible to make him speak as we do without distorting the methods -by which his mind worked when he expressed himself on points with -which he was not familiar, and as to which he evidently had a strong -desire both to understand and to make himself understood. - -If, in spite of the care and conscientiousness which I shall put into -this task, you find that my narrator sometimes sees too clearly or -too deeply into the subjects he takes up, you must blame the weakness -of my presentation. Forced as I am to choose among our familiar -terms of speech such only as all classes can understand, I -voluntarily deprive myself of those that are most original and most -expressive; but, at any rate, I shall endeavor to employ none which -would be unknown to the peasant who tells the tale, and who (far -superior in this to the peasant of to-day) did not pride himself on -using words that were unintelligible to both his hearers and himself. - -I dedicate this novel to you, my dear Eugène, not to give you a proof -of motherly affection, which you do not need to make you feel at home -in my family, but to leave with you, after I am gone, a point of -contact for your recollections of Berry, which has now become, in a -way, the land of your adoption. You will hereafter recall that you -said, at the time I was writing it: "By the bye, it will soon be ten -years since I came here, intending to spend a month. I must be -thinking of leaving." And as I did not see the why and the -wherefore, you explained to me that, being a painter, you had worked -ten years among us to observe and feel nature, and that it was now -necessary you should go to Paris and seek discipline of thought and -the experience of others. I let you go; but on condition that you -would return to us every summer. Do not forget your promise. I send -this book, a distant echo of our bagpipes, to remind you that the -trees are budding, the nightingales have come, and the great -spring-tide festival of nature is beginning in the fields. - -GEORGE SAND. - -NOHANT, April, 1853. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - First Evening - Second Evening - Third Evening - Fourth Evening - Fifth Evening - Sixth Evening - Seventh Evening - Eighth Evening - Ninth Evening - Tenth Evening - Eleventh Evening - Twelfth Evening - Thirteenth Evening - Fourteenth Evening - Fifteenth Evening - Sixteenth Evening - Seventeenth Evening - Eighteenth Evening - Nineteenth Evening - Twentieth Evening - Twenty-First Evening - Twenty-Second Evening - Twenty-Third Evening - Twenty-Fourth Evening - Twenty-Fifth Evening - Twenty-Sixth Evening - Twenty-Seventh Evening - Twenty-Eighth Evening - Twenty-Ninth Evening - Thirtieth Evening - Thirty-First Evening - Thirty-Second Evening - - - - -THE BAGPIPERS. - - - -FIRST EVENING. - -I was not born yesterday, said Père Étienne in 1828. I came into the -world, as near as I can make out, in the year 54 or 55 of the last -century. But not remembering much of my earlier years, I shall only -tell you about myself from the time of my first communion, which took -place in '70 in the parish church of Saint-Chartier, then in charge -of the Abbé Montpéron, who is now very deaf and broken down. - -This was not because our own parish of Nohant was suppressed in those -days; but our curate having died, the two churches were united for a -time under the ministry of the priest of Saint-Chartier, and we went -every day to be catechised,--that is, I and my little cousin and a -lad named Joseph, who lived in the same house with my uncle, with a -dozen other children of the neighborhood. - -I say "my uncle" for short, but he was really my great-uncle, the -brother of my grandmother, and was named Brulet; hence his little -granddaughter and only heir was called Brulette, without any mention -whatever of her Christian name, which was Catherine. - -Now, to tell you at once about things as they were, I soon felt that -I loved Brulette better than I was obliged to do as a cousin; and I -was jealous because Joseph lived in the same house, which stood about -a stone's throw distant from the last houses in the village and -rather more than three quarters of a mile from mine,--so that he -could see her at all times, while I saw her only now and then, till -the time when we met to be catechised. - -I will tell you how it happened that Brulette's grandfather and -Joseph's mother lived under the same roof. The house belonged to the -old man, and he let a small part of it to the woman, who was a widow -with only one child. Her name was Marie Picot, and she was still -marriageable, being little over thirty, and bearing traces in her -face and figure of having been in her day a very pretty woman. She -was still called by some people "handsome Mariton,"--which pleased -her very much, for she would have liked to marry again. But -possessing nothing except her bright eyes and her honest tongue, she -thought herself lucky to pay a low price for her lodging and get a -worthy and helpful old man for a landlord and neighbor,--one too who -wouldn't worry her, but might sometimes help her. - -Père Brulet and the widow Picot, called Mariton, had thus lived in -each other's good graces for about a dozen years; that is, ever since -the day when Brulette's mother died in giving birth to her, and -Mariton had taken charge of the infant with as much love and care as -if it had been her own. - -Joseph, who was three years older than Brulette, remembered being -rocked in the same cradle; and the baby was the first burden ever -trusted to his little arms. Later, Père Brulet, noticing that his -neighbor had her hands full with the care of the two as they grew -stronger, took Joseph into his part of the house; and so it came to -pass that the little girl slept with the widow, and the little boy -with the old man. - -All four, however, ate together. Mariton cooked the meals, kept the -house, made over and darned the clothes, while the old man, who was -still sturdy enough to work, went out by the day and paid the greater -part of the household expenses. He did not do this because he was -well-off and his living was bound to be good accordingly, but because -the widow was kind and amiable, and excellent company; and Brulette -considered her so much like a mother that my uncle grew to treat her -as a daughter, or at any rate as a daughter-in-law. - -Nothing in the world was ever prettier or sweeter than the little -girl under Mariton's bringing up. The woman loved cleanliness, and -kept herself as spick and span as her means allowed; and she had -early taught Brulette to do the same. At the age, therefore, when -children usually roll in the dirt like little animals, the darling -was so clean and dainty in all her ways that everybody wanted to kiss -her; but she was already very chary of her favors, and would never be -familiar unless quite sure of her company. - -When she was twelve years old she was really, at times, like a little -woman; and if, carried away by the liveliness of her years, she did -forget herself so far as to play while being catechised, she soon -caught herself up, even more, it seemed to me, out of self-respect -than for the sake of religion. - -I don't know if any of us could have told why, but all of us lads, -unlike enough when it came to catechising, felt the difference that -there was between Brulette and the other little girls. - -I must own that some in the class were rather big boys. Joseph was -fifteen and I was sixteen, which our parents and the curate declared -was a disgrace to us. Such backwardness certainly did prove that -Joseph was too lazy to study, and I too lively to give my mind to it. -In fact, for three years he and I had been rejected from the class; -and if it had not been for the Abbé Montpéron, who was less -particular than our old curate, I suppose we might have continued so -to this day. - -However, it is only fair to confess that boys are always younger in -mind than girls; and you will find in every Confirmation class just -this difference between the two species,--the males being already -strong, grown lads, and the females still small, hardly old enough to -wear the coif. - -As for knowledge, we were all about alike; none of us knew how to -read, still less to write, and we only learned what we did just as -the little birds learn to sing, without knowing either notes or -Latin, by dint only of using their ears. But all the same, Monsieur -le curé knew very well which of the flock had the quickest minds, and -which of them remembered what he said. The cleverest head among the -girls was little Brulette's, and the stupidest of all the stupid boys -was Joseph. - -Not that he was really duller than the rest, but he was quite unable -to listen and so get a smattering of things he did not understand; -and he showed so little liking for instruction that I was surprised -at him,--I who could take hold of my lessons fast enough when I -managed to keep still, and quiet down my lively spirits. - -Though Brulette scolded him for it sometimes, she never got anything -out of him but tears of vexation. - -"I am not worse than others," he would say; "I don't want to offend -God; but words don't come right in my memory, and I can't help it." - -"Yes, you can," replied the little one, who already took a tone of -ordering him about; "you can if you choose. You can do whatever you -like; but you let your mind run after all sorts of things,--it is no -wonder Monsieur l'abbé calls you 'Joseph the absent-minded.' - -"He can call me so if he likes," answered Joseph. "I don't -understand what it means." - -But the rest of us understood very well, and turned it into our own -childish language by calling him José l'ébervigé [literally, the -bewildered, the staring-eyed]; a name which stuck to him, to his -great disgust. - -Joseph was a melancholy child, with a puny body and a mind turned -inward. He never left Brulette, and was very submissive to her; -nevertheless, she said he was as obstinate as a mule, and found fault -with him all the time. Though she did not say much to me about my -lawless, do-nothing ways, I often wished she would take as much -notice of me as she did of him. However, in spite of the jealousy he -caused me, I cared more for José than for my other comrades, because -he was one of the weakest, and I one of the strongest. Besides, if I -had not stood up for him, Brulette would have blamed me. When I told -her that she loved him more than she did me, who was her cousin, she -would say,-- - -"It is not on his account; it is because of his mother, whom I love -better than I do either of you. If anything happened to him, I -should not dare go home; for as he never thinks of what he is about, -she charged me to think for both, and I try not to forget it." - -I often hear our betters say: "I went to school with such a one; he -was my college companion." We peasants, who never went to school in -my young days, we say, "I was catechised with such a one; that's my -communion comrade." Then is the time we make our youthful -friendships, and sometimes, too, the hatreds that last a lifetime. -In the fields, at work, or at the festivals, we talk and laugh -together, and meet and part; but at the catechism classes, which last -a year, and often two, we must put up with each other's company, and -even help each other five or six hours a day. We always started off -together in a body every morning across the fields and meadows, -beside the coverts and fences, and along the foot-paths; and we came -back in the evening anyhow, as it pleased the good God, for we took -advantage of our liberty to run where we chose, like frolicking -birds. Those who liked each other's company stayed together; the -disagreeable ones went alone, or banded in twos and threes to tease -and frighten the rest. - -Joseph had his ways; they were neither horrid nor sulky, and yet they -were not amiable. I never remember seeing him really enjoying -himself, nor really frightened, nor really contented, nor really -annoyed with anything that ever happened to us. In our fights he -never got out of the way, and he usually received blows which he did -not know how to return; but he made no complaint. You might have -supposed he did not feel them. - -When we loitered to play some game, he would sit or lie down at a -little distance and say nothing, answering wide of the mark if we -spoke to him. He seemed to be listening or looking at something -which the others could not perceive; that's why he was thought to be -one of those who "see the wind." Sometimes, when Brulette, who knew -his crotchets, but would not explain them, called him, he did not -answer. Then she would begin to sing,--that was sure to wake him up, -as a whistle is sure to stop people from snoring. - -To tell you why I attached myself to a fellow who was such poor -company is more than I am able to do; for I was just the opposite -myself. I could not do without companions, and I was always -listening and observing others; I liked to talk and question, felt -dull when I was alone, and went about looking for fun and friendship. -Perhaps that was the reason why, pitying the serious, reserved boy, I -imitated Brulette, who would shake him up sometimes,--which did him -more good than it did her, for in fact she indulged his whims much -more than she controlled them. As far as words went she ordered him -about finely, but as he never obeyed her it was she (and I through -her) who followed in his wake and had patience with him. - -The day of our first communion came at last; and, returning from -church, I made such strong resolutions not to give way to my -lawlessness any more that I followed Brulette home to her -grandfather's house, as the best example I could lay hold of to guide -me. - -While she went, at Mariton's bidding, to milk the goat, Joseph and I -stayed talking with his mother in my uncle's room. - -We were looking at the devotional images which the curate had given -us in remembrance of the sacrament,--or rather I was, for Joseph was -thinking of something else, and fingered them without seeing what -they were. So the others paid no attention to us; and presently -Mariton said to her old neighbor, alluding to our first communion,-- - -"Well, it is a good thing done, and now I can hire my lad out to -work. I have decided to do what I told you I should." - -My uncle shook his head sadly, and she continued: - -"Just listen to one thing, neighbor. My José has got no mind. I -know that, worse luck! He takes after his poor deceased father, who -hadn't two ideas a week, but who was a well-to-do and well-behaved -man, for all that. Still, it is an infirmity to have so little -faculty in your head, because if ill-luck has it that a man marries a -silly wife, everything goes to the bad in a hurry. That's why I said -to myself, when I saw my boy growing so long in the legs, that his -brain would never feed him; and that if I could only leave him a -little sum of money I should die happy. You know the good a few -savings can do. In our poor homes it is everything. Now, I have -never been able to lay by a penny, and I do suppose I'm not young -enough to please a man, for I have not remarried. Well, if that's -so, God's will be done! I am still young enough to work; and so I -may as well tell you, neighbor, that the innkeeper at Chartier wants -a servant. He pays good wages,--thirty crowns a year! besides -perquisites, which come to half as much again. With all that, strong -and lively as I know I am, I shall have made my fortune in ten years. -I can take my ease in my old days, and leave a little something to my -poor boy. What do you say to that?" - -Père Brulet thought a little, and then replied,-- - -"You are wrong, neighbor; indeed you are wrong!" - -Mariton thought too; and then, understanding what the old man meant, -she said,-- - -"No doubt, no doubt. A woman is exposed to blame in a country inn; -even if she behaves properly, people won't believe it. That's what -you meant, isn't it? Well, but what am I to do? Of course it -deprives me of all chance of re-marrying; but we don't regret what we -suffer for our children,--indeed, sometimes we rejoice in it." - -"There is something worse than suffering," said my uncle,--"there is -shame; and that recoils upon the children." - -Mariton sighed. - -"Yes," she said, "a woman is exposed to daily insults in a house of -that kind. She must always be on the look-out to defend herself. If -she gets angry, that injures the custom, and her masters don't like -it." - -"Some of them," said the old man, "try to find handsome and -good-humored women like you to help sell their liquors; a saucy maid -is often all an inn-keeper needs to do a better business than his -neighbors." - -"I know that," said Mariton; "but a woman can be gay and lively, and -quick to serve the guests, without allowing herself to be insulted." - -"Bad language is always insulting," said Père Brulet; "and it ought -to cost an honest woman dear to get accustomed to such ways. Think -how mortified your son will be when he hears the carters and the -bagmen joking with his mother." - -"Luckily he's simple," said Mariton, looking at Joseph. - -I looked at him too, and I was surprised that he did not hear a word -of what his mother was saying in a voice loud enough for me to catch -every word. I gathered from that that he was "hearing thick," as we -said in those days, meaning one who was hard of hearing. - -Joseph got up presently and went after Brulette, who was in her -little goat-pen, which was nothing more than a shed made of planks -stuffed with straw, where she kept about a dozen animals. - -He flung himself on a pile of brushwood; and having followed him (for -fear of being thought inquisitive if I stayed behind), I saw that he -was crying inside of him, though there were no tears in his eyes. - -"Are you asleep, José?" said Brulette; "if not, why are you lying -there like a sick sheep? Come, give me those sticks you are lying -on; I want the leaves for my goats." - -So saying, she began to sing,--but very softly, because it wasn't the -thing to make a racket on the day of her first communion. - -I fancied her song had the usual effect of drawing Joseph from his -dreams, for he rose, and went away. Then Brulette said to me,-- - -"What is the matter? He seems worse than usual." - -"I think he must have heard that he is to be hired out and leave his -mother," I replied. - -"He expected it," said Brulette; "isn't it the custom for all of us -to go out to service as soon as we have received the sacrament? If I -were not lucky enough to be my grandfather's only child, I should -have to leave home and earn my living as others do." - -Brulette did not seem much distressed at the thought of parting from -Joseph; but when I told her that Mariton was also going to hire -herself out and live far away, she began to sob, and rushing into the -house, she flung herself on Mariton's neck, drying out,-- - -"Is it true, darling, that you are going to leave me?" - -"Who told you that?" asked Mariton. "It is not decided." - -"Yes, it is," cried Brulette; "you said so, and you want to hide it -from me." - -"As some inquisitive boys don't know how to hold their tongue," said -Mariton, with a severe glance at me, "I must tell you all. Yes, my -child, you must bear it like a brave and sensible girl who has given -her soul to the good God this very day." - -"Papa," said Brulette, turning to her grandfather, "how can you -consent to let her go? Who is to take care of you?" - -"You, my child," replied Mariton; "you are now old enough to do your -duty. Listen to me,--and you too, neighbor; for here is something I -have not yet told you." - -Taking the little girl on her knee, while I stood between my uncle's -legs (for his grieved look drew me to him), Mariton continued to -reason, first with one, and then with the other. - -"If it had not been for the friendship I owe you," she said, "I ought -long ago to have left Joseph here and paid his board while I went out -to service and laid by a little money. But I felt I was bound to -bring you up, my Brulette, till you made your first communion, -because you are the youngest, and because a girl wants a mother -longer than a boy. I hadn't the heart to leave you as long as you -couldn't do without me. But now, you see, the time has come; and if -anything can reconcile you to losing me, it is that you will soon -feel useful to your grandfather. I have taught you how to manage a -household and all that a good girl ought to know for the service of -her parents and family. You'll practise it for my sake and to do -credit to my teaching. It will be my pride and consolation to hear -people tell how my Brulette takes good care of her grandfather, and -manages his money like a little woman. Come, be brave, and don't -deprive me of the little courage that I have got; for if you feel -badly at my departure, I feel worse than you. Remember that I am -leaving Père Brulet, who has been the best of friends to me, and my -poor José, who will hear hard things said of his mother and his home. -But my duty bids me do it, and you wouldn't wish me to go against -that?" - -Brulette cried till evening, and could not help Mariton in anything; -but when she saw her hiding her tears as she cooked the supper, the -girl flung her arms round her foster-mother's neck and vowed to do as -she had taught her; and thereupon set to work with a will. - -They sent me to find Joseph, who had forgotten (not for the first -time, nor for the last either) that he ought to come home and get his -supper like other people. - -I found him in a corner all alone, dreaming and gazing at the ground -as if his eyes would take root in it. Contrary to his usual custom, -he did let me drag a few words out of him, in which, as I thought, -there was more annoyance than grief. He was not surprised at having -to go out to service, knowing that he was now old enough, and could -not do otherwise; but without showing that he had overheard his -mother's plans, he complained that nobody loved him or thought him -capable of doing good work. - -I could not get him to explain himself any farther; and all that -evening--for I stayed to say my prayers with him and with -Brulette--he seemed to sulk, while Brulette, on the contrary, was -full of kindness and caresses for everybody. - -Soon after this, Joseph was hired out as a laborer to Père Michel on -the estate of Aulnières. - -Mariton went to work at an inn called the Bœuf Couronné, kept by -Benoît at Saint-Chartier. - -Brulette remained with her grandfather, and I with my parents, who -had a small property and kept me at home to help them cultivate it. - -The day of my first communion affected my spirits. I had made great -efforts to bring myself into thoughts that were suitable to my age; -and the catechising with Brulette had also changed me. Thoughts of -her were always mixed up, I don't know how, with those I tried to -give to the good God; and all the while that I was growing in grace -as to my behavior, my head was running on follies of love which were -beyond her years, and even for mine they were a little ahead of the -proper season. - -About this time my father took me to the fair at Orval, near -Saint-Armand, to sell a brood-mare; and for the first time in my life -I was away from home. My mother observed that I did not sleep or eat -enough to support my growth, which was faster than customary in our -part of the country, and my father thought a little amusement would -do me good. But I did not find as much in seeing the world and new -places as I should have done six months earlier. I had a foolish, -languishing desire to look at the girls, without daring to say a word -to them; then I thought of Brulette, whom I fancied I could marry, -for the sole reason that she was the only one I was not afraid of, -and I reckoned her age and mine over and over again,--which didn't -make the time go any faster than the good God had marked it on his -clock. - -As I rode back on the crupper behind my father on another mare which -we had bought at the fair, we met, in a dip of the road, a -middle-aged man who was driving a little cart laden with furniture, -the which, being drawn by nothing better than a donkey, had stuck -fast in the mud, and couldn't go on. The man was beginning to -lighten the load by taking off part of it; and my father, seeing -this, said to me,-- - -"Let us get down, and help a neighbor out of his trouble." - -The man thanked us; and then, as if speaking to his cart, he said,-- - -"Come, little one, wake up; I shouldn't like to upset you." - -When he said that, I saw, rising from a mattress, a pretty little -girl, apparently about fifteen or sixteen years old, who rubbed her -eyes, and asked what had happened. - -"The road is bad, daughter," said the man, taking her up in his arms. -"Come, I can't let you get your feet wet,--for you must know," he -added, turning to my father, "she is ill with fever from having grown -so fast. Just see what a rampant vine she is for a girl of eleven -and a half!" - -"True as God," said my father; "she is a fine sprig of a girl, and -pretty as the sunshine, though the fever has rather paled her. But -that will go off; feed her up, and she won't sell the worse for it." - -When my father said this his head was still full of the talk of the -horse-dealers at the fair. But seeing that the girl had left her -sabots in the cart, and that it would be no easy matter to find them, -he said to me,-- - -"Here! you are strong enough to hold the little girl for a while." - -Then, putting her into my arms, he harnessed our mare into the place -of the useless donkey, and pulled the cart out of the mud-hole. But -there was another quagmire farther on, as my father knew, having gone -that road several times; so calling to me to come on, he walked in -front with the peasant, who was twisting his ass's ears. - -I carried the great girl and looked at her with amazement; for though -she was a head taller than Brulette, I could see by her figure that -she was no older. - -She was white and slender as a wax taper, and her black hair, -breaking loose from a little cap made in the fashion of other parts, -which had been rumpled as she slept, fell over my breast and almost -down to my knees. I had never seen anything so perfect as her pale -face, her clear blue eyes fringed with thick lashes, her gentle, -tired air, and even a perfectly black mark at one corner of her -mouth, which made her beauty something strange and never to be -forgotten. - -She seemed so young that my heart said nothing to me, though it was -close to hers; yet it was not so much her want of years, perhaps, as -the languor of her illness that made her appear so childish. I did -not speak to her, and walked along without thinking her heavy; but I -took pleasure in looking at her, the same pleasure that one feels at -the sight of any fine thing, whether it be a girl or a woman, a -flower or a fruit. - -As we neared the second mud-hole, where her father and mine began, -the one to urge his horse, the other to shove the wheel, the little -girl spoke to me in a language which made me laugh, for I did not -understand a word of it. She was surprised at my surprise, and then -she spoke in the language we all speak. - -"Don't strain yourself carrying me," she said; "I can walk very well -without sabots; I am as much used to it as others." - -"Yes, but you are ill," said I; "and I could carry four like you. -What country do you belong to? That was a queer language you spoke -just now." - -"What country?" she said. "I don't belong to any country; I come -from the woods, that's all. And you, where do you come from?" - -"Ah! my little fairy, if you belong to the woods, I belong to the -fields," I answered, laughing. - -I was going to question her further, when her father came and took -her from me. - -"Well," he said, shaking hands with my father, "I thank you, my good -people. And you, little one, kiss the kind lad who has carried you -like a load of game." - -The child did as she was bid; she was not old enough to be coy, and -thinking no harm, she made no difficulty. She kissed me on both -cheeks, saving: "Thanks to you, my fine carrier;" then, passing into -her father's arms, she was laid on her mattress, and seemed about to -go to sleep again, without minding the jolts or thinking about the -risks of the journey. - -"Good-bye again!" said her father, taking me by the knee, to mount me -on the mare's crupper. "A fine lad!" he remarked to my father, -looking me over, "and as forward for the age you say he is as my -little girl is for hers." - -"He is a little the worse for it in the way of health," answered my -father; "but, God willing, work will soon cure him. Excuse us if we -go on before you; we have far to go, and I want to get home before -night." - -Thereupon my father struck his heels into the mare, which trotted -off, while I, looking back, saw the man turn his cart to the right, -and go off in another direction. - -I was soon thinking of something else, but a recollection of Brulette -coming into my head, I remembered the free kisses the little girl had -given me, and wondered why Brulette always slapped me when I tried to -get a kiss from her; then, as the ride was long, and I had got up -before daylight, I fell asleep behind my father, mixing up in my -tired head, I'm sure I don't know how, the faces of the two little -girls. - -My father pinched me to wake up, for he felt my weight on his -shoulders, and was afraid I should tumble off. I asked him who those -people we had met were. - -"Which of them do you mean?" he said, laughing at my sleepy way. "We -have met more than five hundred since morning." - -"Those with the cart and donkey," I replied. - -"Oh!" said he, "well, faith, I don't know; I never thought to ask. -Probably they come from either La Marche or Champagne, for they speak -with a foreign accent; but I was so busy watching to see if the mare -was good at the collar that I didn't take notice of much else. She -does pull very well, and didn't hang back at all; I think she will -prove serviceable, and that I have not paid too dear for her." - -From that time on (the trip having certainly done me good) I got -better and better, and took a liking for work. My father gave me -first the care of the mare, then that of the garden, and finally that -of the field; and, little by little, I came to take pleasure in -digging, planting, and harvesting. - -By that time my father was a widower, and seemed anxious to let me -benefit by the property my mother had left me. So he gave me a share -in all our little profits, and wished for nothing so much as to see -me turn out a good farmer. It was not long before he found I had a -relish for the life; for if youth needs courage to deprive itself of -pleasure in the service of others, it needs none at all to work for -its own interests, above all when they are in common with those of a -worthy family, honest in the division of profits, and agreeing well -as to the work. - -I still continued rather fond of gossiping and amusing myself on -Sundays. But no one blamed me for that at home, because I was a good -worker during the week. Such a life brought me health of body and -good-humor, and a little more sense in my head than I gave promise of -at first. I forgot all the vaporings of love, for nothing keeps you -so quiet as to sweat with a spade from sunrise to sunset; and when -night comes, those who have had to do with the heavy, rich soil of -our parts (the hardest mistress there is), amuse themselves best by -going to sleep, to be ready for the morrow. - -That is how I peacefully reached the age when it is allowable to -think, not of little girls, but of grown-up ones; and at the very -first stirring of such ideas, I found my cousin Brulette still fixed, -above all others, in my inclinations. - -Living alone with her grandfather, Brulette had done her best to be -older than her years in sense and courage. But some children are -born with the gift or the fate of being always petted and cared for. -Mariton's former lodging was let to Mère Lamouche, of Vieilleville, -who was poor, and was therefore ready to serve the Brulets as though -they paid her wages, hoping thereby to get a hearing when she -declared herself unable to pay the rent. It so turned out; and -Brulette, finding that the new neighbor helped her, forestalled her, -and made things comfortable for her, had time and ease to grow in -mind and beauty without much effort of soul or body. - - - - -SECOND EVENING. - -Little Brulette was now called "handsome Brulette," and was much -talked of in our country-side; for within the memory of man no -prettier girl or finer eyes or slimmer waist or rosier cheek or hair -of brighter gold had ever been seen; her hand was like satin, and her -foot as dainty as a young lady's. - -All that tells you plain enough that my cousin did not work very -hard; she never went out in bad weather, took care to shade herself -from the sun, did not wash the clothes, and made no use of her limbs -to tire them. - -Perhaps you will think she was idle? Not at all. She did everything -that she could not help doing fast and well. She had too much good -sense not to keep order and neatness in the household and take the -best care of her grandfather, as in duty bound. Moreover, she liked -finery too well not to do a good bit of sewing; but as to hard work, -she never so much as heard of it. There was no occasion that she -should, and therefore it can't be said she was to blame. - -There are some families where toil and nothing else comes early to -warn young people that life is not so much a question of amusement in -this low world as of earning a living among their fellows. But in -Père Brulet's home there was little to do to make both ends meet. -The old man was only in the seventies, and being a good workman, very -clever at cutting stone (which, you know, is quite a science in these -parts), steady, and much in demand by every one, he earned a good -living; and, thanks to the fact of being a widower with no one to -support but his granddaughter, he had laid by quite a little sum -against illness or accident. Fortunately he kept his health, so -that, without riches, he was never in want. - -My father, however, declared that Brulette loved ease and comfort too -well; meaning by that, that she might have to come down to other -things when it was time for her to marry. He agreed with me that she -was as sweet and amiable in her ways as in her person; but he would -not encourage me to court her in marriage. She was too poor, he -said, to be a lady, and he often declared that a wife should be -either rich or very full of energy. "At first sight, I like one as -well as the other," he would say; "though perhaps, on second -thoughts, I would rather have the energy than the money. But -Brulette has not enough of either to tempt a wise man." - -I knew my father was right; but my cousin's sweet eyes and gentle -speech had more influence over me than he could have, and over other -young fellows too,--for you must know that I was not the only one. -From the time she was fifteen she was surrounded with striplings like -me, whom she knew how to restrain and order about as she had done in -her childish days. You might say she was born proud, and knew her -value long before compliments had given her an idea of it. She loved -praise and submission, and while she never allowed any one to make -free with her, she was very willing they should love her timidly. I, -like a good many others, was filled with the strongest desire to -please her, and at the same time I was often annoyed to find myself -only one of a crowd. - -Two of us, however, were privileged to talk to her rather more -intimately, and to walk home with her when we met at a dance, or -after church. I mean Joseph Picot and I. But we gained little or -nothing by that; and perhaps, without saying so, we laid the blame to -each other. - -Joseph was still on the farm at Aulnières, about a mile and a half -from Brulette's house, and half that distance from mine. He was a -mere laborer. Though he was not really handsome, some, who did not -object to a melancholy face, might think him so. His face was lean -and yellow, and his brown hair, falling straight from his head and -down his cheeks, made him even more puny in appearance. -Nevertheless, he was not ill-made, nor ungraceful in body, and there -was something in his closed jaw which always seemed to me the reverse -of weakness. He was thought ill because he moved slowly and had none -of the gayety of youth; but seeing him often, as I did, I knew it was -his nature to be so, and that he really was not suffering at all. - -He was, however, a very poor laborer of the soil, not over careful -with cattle, and far from agreeable in temper. His wages were the -lowest that were ever paid to a plough-boy, and people were surprised -that his master still kept him; for nothing prospered with him, -either in the stable or the fields, and he was so sullen when -reproved that no one could do anything with him. But Père Michel -declared that he never gave any angry answer, and he preferred those -who submitted without a word, even if they did have sulky looks, to -those who deceived you with flattery. - -His faithfulness and the contempt he showed at all times for -injustice made his master respect him, though he often remarked what -a pity it was that an honest, upright lad had such soft muscles and a -mind so indifferent to his work. But he kept him for what he was -worth, from habit, and also out of consideration for Père Brulet, who -was one of Père Michel's earliest friends. - -In what I have said of Joseph you will readily see that he could not -please the girls. Indeed, they never looked at him, except to wonder -why they never caught his eye, which was large and clear as an owl's -and never seemed to see anything. - -Yet I was always jealous of him, because Brulette paid him more -attention than she gave to any one else, and obliged me to do the -same. She no longer lectured him, and openly accepted his temper as -God made it, without getting angry or seeming at all annoyed. She -forgave him his want of gallantry, and even politeness,--two things -which she exacted from the rest of us. He might do all sorts of -stupid things,--such as sit down on a chair if she left it for a -moment, and oblige her to find another; or neglect to pick up her -balls of wool when they rolled away; or break a bodkin or some other -sewing utensil,--he might do all such things, and she would never say -an impatient word to him; whereas she scolded and ridiculed me if I -did a tenth part of them. - -Then, she took care of him as if he were a brother. She kept a bit -of meat put by for him when he came to see her, and made him eat it -whether he was hungry or not, telling him he ought to strengthen his -stomach and make blood. She had an eye to his clothes just like -Mariton, and even took upon herself to make him new ones, saying that -his mother had not time to cut and sew them. Sometimes she would -lead her cattle to pasture over where he was at work, and talked to -him; though he talked very little, and very badly when he tried to do -so. - -Besides all this, she would not allow any one to treat him with -contempt, or to make fun of his melancholy face and his staring eyes. -To all such remarks she replied that his health was not good; also -that he was not more stupid than other people; if he talked little, -it was not that he did not think; and, in short, that it was better -to be silent than to talk a great deal with nothing to say. - -Sometimes I was tempted to contradict her; but she quickly cut me -short by saying,-- - -"You must have a very bad heart, Tiennet, to abandon that poor lad to -the jeers of others, instead of defending him when they torment him. -I thought better of you than that." - -Then of course I did her will, and defended Joseph; though for my -part I could not see what illness or affliction he had, unless -laziness and distrust were infirmities of nature,--which might be -possible; though it certainly seemed to me in the power of man to -subdue them. - -On his side, Joseph, without showing an aversion for me, treated me -just as coldly as he did the rest, and never appeared to remember the -assistance he got from me in his various encounters. Whether he -cared for Brulette, like all the others, or whether he cared only for -himself, he smiled in a strange manner and with an air of contempt -whenever she gave me the most trifling mark of friendship. - -One day, when he had pushed the thing so far as to shrug his -shoulders, I resolved to have an explanation with him,--as quietly as -possible, so as not to displease my cousin, but frankly enough to -make him feel that if I put up with him in her presence with great -patience, I expected him to treat me in the same way. But as on that -occasion a number of Brulette's other lovers were present, I put off -doing this until the first time I should find him alone. -Accordingly, I went the next day to join him in a field where he was -at work. - -I was a good deal surprised to find Brulette with him, sitting on the -roots of a big tree by the side of a ditch, where he was supposed to -be cutting brush to make pegs. But in fact he was cutting nothing at -all; though by way of work he was whittling something which he -quickly put in his pocket as soon as he saw me, closing his knife and -beginning to talk as if I had been his master and had caught him in a -fault, or as if he had been saying secret things to my cousin which I -had interrupted. - -I was so troubled and vexed that I was going away without a word, -when Brulette called to me, and beginning to knit (for she too had -laid aside her work while talking to him), she told me to sit down -beside her. - -It struck me it was only a sop to soothe my vexation, so I refused, -saying that the weather was not pleasant enough to sit about in -ditches. And truly, though not cold, it was very damp; the thaw had -made the brook full and the grass muddy. There was still a little -snow in the furrows, and the wind was disagreeable. According to my -notions, Brulette must have thought Joseph very interesting to make -her lead her flock out there in such weather--she who so often and so -readily turned them over to the care of her neighbor. - -"José," said Brulette, "our friend Tiennet is sulky because he sees -we have a secret between us. Won't you let me tell it to him? His -advice will do no harm, and he will tell you just what he thinks of -your idea." - -"He!" said Joseph, beginning to shrug his shoulders just as had done -the night before. - -"Does your back itch whenever you see me?" I said to him, spitefully. -"I can scratch you in a way that will cure you once for all." - -He looked at me from under his lids as if ready to bite me; but -Brulette touched him gently on the shoulder with the end of her -distaff, and calling him to her, she whispered in his ear. - -"No, no!" he answered, without taking the trouble to hide his answer. -"Tiennet is no good at all to advise me,--he knows no more than your -goat; and if you tell him the least thing, I won't tell you anything -more." - -Thereupon he picked up his shears and his chopper, and went to work -at some distance. - -"There!" said Brulette, rising to call in her flock, "now he is -cross. But never mind, Tiennet, it is nothing serious,--I know his -fancies; there is nothing to be done, and indeed the best way is to -let him alone. He's a lad who has had a bee in his bonnet ever since -he came into the world. He doesn't know how to express what he -feels, and he really can't. It is better, therefore, to leave him to -himself; for if one worries him with questions, he only cries, and -then we have hurt his feelings for nothing." - -"It is my opinion, though," I said to Brulette, "that you know how to -make him confess himself." - -"I was mistaken," she answered; "I thought he had some much worse -trouble. It would make you laugh if I could tell you what the -trouble really is; but as he chooses to tell no one but me, let us -think no more about it." - -"If it is such a little thing," I persisted, "you would not take so -much interest in it." - -"Do you think I take too much?" she said. "Don't I owe it to the -woman who brought him into the world and who brought me up with more -care and kindness than she gave to her own child?" - -"That's a good reason, Brulette. If it is Mariton you love in her -son, very good; in that case, I wish Mariton was my mother,--it would -be better for me than being your cousin." - -"Leave that sort of nonsense to my other sweethearts," answered -Brulette, blushing a little. But no compliments ever came amiss to -her, though she pretended to laugh at them. - -As we left the fields just opposite to my house she came in with me -to say good-evening to my sister. - -But my sister was out, and Brulette could not wait, because her sheep -were in the road. In order to keep her a moment, I bethought me of -taking off her sabots, to remove the lumps of snow, and drying them. -And so, holding her as it were by the paws,--for she was obliged to -sit down while she waited for me to finish,--I tried to tell her, -better than I had ever yet dared to do, the trouble my love for her -was piling up in my heart. - -But there! see the devilish thing,--I couldn't get out the crowning -word of it. I managed the second and the third, but the first -wouldn't come. My forehead was sweating. The girl could have helped -me out, if she only would, for she knew the tune of my song well -enough; others had sung it to her already. But with Brulette, one -had to have patience and discretion; and though I was not altogether -new at gallant speeches, those I had exchanged with others who were -less difficult than Brulette (just by way of getting my hand in) had -taught me nothing that was proper to say to a high-priced young girl -like my cousin. - -All that I could manage was to hark back to the subject of her -favorite, Joseph. At first she laughed; then, little by little, -seeing that I was seriously finding fault with him, she became -herself serious. "Let the poor lad alone," she said; "he is much to -be pitied." - -"But why and wherefore? Is he consumptive, or crazy, that you are so -afraid of his being meddled with?" - -"He is worse than that," answered Brulette; "he is an egotist." - -"Egotist" was one of the curate's words which Brulette had picked up, -though it was not used among us in my day. Brulette had a wonderful -memory; and that was how she sometimes came out with words which I -might have recollected too, only I did not, and consequently I could -not understand them. - -I was too shy to ask her for an explanation and admit my ignorance. -Besides, I imagined it was a mortal illness; and I felt that such a -great affliction convicted me of injustice. I begged Brulette's -pardon for having annoyed her, adding,-- - -"If I had known what you tell me sooner, I shouldn't have felt any -bitterness or rancor for the poor fellow." - -"How came you never to notice it?" she said. "Don't you see how he -makes every one give way to him and oblige him, without ever dreaming -of thanking them; how the least neglect affronts him, and the -slightest joke angers him; how he sulks and suffers about things -nobody else would ever notice; and how one must put one's best self -into a friendship with him without his ever comprehending that it is -not his due, but an offering made to God of love to our neighbor?" - -"Is that the effect of illness?" I asked, a little puzzled by -Brulette's explanation. - -"Isn't it the very worst thing he can have in his heart?" she replied. - -"Does his mother know he has something the matter with his heart?" - -"She guesses at it; but, you see, I can't talk to her about it for -fear of grieving her." - -"Has no one tried to cure him?" - -"I have done, and I mean to do, my best," she answered, continuing a -topic on which we didn't understand each other; "but I think my way -of managing him only makes him worse." - -"It is true," I said, after reflecting awhile, "that the fellow -always did have something queer about him. My grandmother, who is -dead,--and you know how she piqued herself on foretelling the -future,--said he had misfortune written on his face; that he was -doomed to live in misery or to die in the flower of his age, because -of a line he has on his forehead. Ever since then, I declare to you -that when Joseph is gloomy I see that line of ill-luck, though I -never knew where my grandmother saw it. At such times I'm afraid of -him, or rather of his fate, and I feel led to spare him blame and -annoyance as if he was not long for this world." - -"Bah!" said Brulette, laughing, "nothing but my great-aunt's fancies! -I remember them very well. Didn't she also tell you that light eyes, -like Joseph's, can see spirits and hidden things? As for me, I don't -believe a word of it, neither do I think he is in danger of dying. -People live a long time with a mind like his; they take their comfort -in worrying others, though perhaps, while threatening to die, they -will live to bury all about them." - -I could not understand what she said, and I was going to question her -further, when she asked for her sabots and slipped her feet easily -into them, though they were so small I couldn't get my hand in. -Then, calling to her dog and shortening her petticoat, she left me, -quite anxious and puzzled by all she said, and as little advanced as -ever in my courtship. - -The following Sunday, as she was starting for mass at Saint-Chartier, -where she liked better to go than to our own parish church, because -there was dancing in the market-place between mass and vespers, I -asked if I could go with her. - -"No," she said. "I am going with my grandfather; and he does not -like a crowd of sweethearts after me along the roads." - -"I am not a crowd of sweethearts," I said. "I am your cousin, and my -uncle never wanted me out of his way." - -"Well, keep out of mine now," she said,--"only for to-day. My father -and I want to talk with José, who is in the house and is going to -mass with us." - -"Then he has come to propose marriage; and you are glad enough to -listen to him." - -"Are you crazy, Tiennet? After all I told you about José!" - -"You told me he had an illness that would make him live longer than -other people; and I don't see what there is in that to quiet me." - -"Quiet you for what?" exclaimed Brulette, astonished. "What illness? -Where are your wits? Upon my word, I think all the men are crazy!" - -Then, taking her grandfather's arm, who just then came out of the -house with José, she started, as light as a feather and gay as a -fawn, while my good uncle, who thought there was nothing like her, -smiled at the passers-by as much as to say, "You have no such girl as -that to show!" - -I followed them at a distance, to see if Joseph drew any closer to -her on the way, and whether she took his arm, and whether the old man -left them together. Nothing of the kind. Joseph walked all the time -at my uncle's left, and Brulette on his right, and they seemed to be -talking gravely. - -After the service I asked Brulette to dance with me. - -"Oh, you are too late!" she said; "I have promised at least fifteen -dances. You must come back about vesper time." - -This annoyance did not include Joseph, for he never danced; and to -avoid seeing Brulette surrounded by her other swains, I followed him -into the inn of the "Bœuf Couronné," where he went to see his -mother, and I to kill time with a few friends. - -I was rather a frequenter of wine-shops, as I have already told -you,--not because of the bottle, which never got the better of my -senses, but from a liking for company and talk and songs. I found -several lads and lasses whom I knew and with whom I sat down to -table, while Joseph sat in a corner, not drinking a drop or saying a -word,--sitting there to please his mother, who liked to look at him -and throw him a word now and then as she passed and repassed. I -don't know if it ever occurred to Joseph to help her in the hard work -of serving so many people, but Benoit wouldn't have allowed such an -absent-minded fellow to stumble about among his dishes and bottles. - -You have heard tell of the late Benoit? He was a fat man with a -topping air, rather rough in speech, but a good liver and a fine -talker when occasion served. He was upright enough to treat Mariton -with the respect she deserved; for she was, to tell the truth, the -queen of servants, and Benoit's house had never had so much custom as -while she reigned over it. - -The thing Père Brulet warned her of never happened. The danger of -the business cured her of coquetry, and she kept her own person as -safe as she did the property of her master. The truth is, it was -chiefly for her son's sake that she had brought herself down to -harder work and greater discretion than was natural to her. In that -she was seen to be so good a mother that instead of losing the -respect of others, she had gained more since she served at the inn; -and that's a thing which seldom happens in our country villages,--nor -elsewhere, as I've heard tell. - -Seeing that Joseph was paler and gloomier than usual, the thought of -what my grandmother had said of him, together with the illness (very -queer, it seemed to me) which Brulette imputed to him, somehow struck -my mind and touched my heart. No doubt he was still angry with me -for the harsh words I had used to him. I wanted to make him forget -them, and to force him to sit at our table, thinking I could unawares -make him a trifle drunk; for, like others of my age, I thought the -fumes of a little good white wine a sovereign cure for low spirits. - -Joseph, who paid little attention to what was going on around him, -let us fill his glass and nudge his elbow so often that any one but -he would soon have felt the effects. Those who were inciting him to -drink, and thoughtlessly setting him the example, soon had too much; -but I, who wanted my legs for the dance, stopped short as soon as I -felt that I had had enough. Joseph fell into a deep cogitation, -leaned his two elbows on the table, and seemed to me neither brighter -nor duller than he was before. - -No one paid any attention to him; everybody laughed and chattered on -their own account. Some began to sing, just as folks sing when they -have been drinking, each in his own key and his own time, one fellow -trolling his chorus beside another who trolls his, the whole together -making a racket fit to split your head, while the whole company -laughed and shouted so that nobody could hear anything at all. - -Joseph sat still without flinching, and looked at us in his staring -way for quite a time. Then he got up and went away, without saying -anything. - -I thought he might be ill, and I followed him. But he walked -straight and fast, like a man who was none the worse for wine; and he -went so far up the slope of the hill above the town of Saint-Chartier -that I lost sight of time, and came back again, for fear I should -miss my dance with Brulette. - -She danced so prettily, my dear Brulette, that every eye was upon -her. She adored dancing and dress and compliments, but she never -encouraged any one to make serious love to her; and when the bell -rang for vespers, she would walk away, dignified and serious, into -church, where she certainly prayed a little, though she never forgot -that all eyes were on her. - -As for me, I remembered that I had not paid my score at the Bœuf -Couronné, and I went back to settle with Mariton, who took occasion -to ask me where her son had gone. - -"You made him drink," she said; "and that's not his habit. You might -at least not have let him wander off alone; accidents happen so -easily." - - - - -THIRD EVENING. - -I went back to the slope and followed the road Joseph had taken, -inquiring for him as I went along, but could hear nothing except that -he had been seen to pass, and had not returned. The road led me to -the right of the forest, and I went in to question the forester, -whose house, a very ancient building, stands at the top of a large -tract of heathland lying on the hillside. It is a melancholy place, -though you can see from there to a great distance; and nothing grows -there at the edge of the oak-copses but brake and furze. - -The forester of those days was Jarvois, a relation of mine, born in -Verneuil. As soon as he saw me, and because I did not often walk -that way, he was so friendly and hospitable that I could not get away. - -"Your comrade, Joseph, was here about an hour ago," he said, "and -asked if the charcoal-burners were in the woods; his master probably -told him to inquire. He spoke clear enough and was steady on his -legs, and he went on up to the big oak; you need not be uneasy. And -now you are here, you must drink a bottle with me, and wait till my -wife comes back with the cows, for she will be hurt if you go away -without seeing her." - -Thinking there was no reason to worry, I stayed with my relations -till sunset. It was about the middle of February; and when it got to -be nearly dark I said good-night, and took the upper road, intending -to cross to Verneuil and go home by the straight road, without -returning to Saint-Chartier, where I had nothing further to do. - -My relative explained the road, as I had never been in the forest -more than once or twice in my life. You know that in these parts we -seldom go far from home, especially those of us who till the ground, -and keep near our dwellings like chicks round a coop. - -So, in spite of a warning, I kept too far to the left; and instead of -striking a great avenue of oaks, I got among the birches, at least a -mile and a half from where I ought to have been. - -The night was dark, and I could not see a thing; for in those days -the forest of Saint-Chartier was still a fine one,--not as to size, -for it was never very large, but from the age of the trees, which -allowed no light from the sky to get through them. What it thus -gained in grandeur and greenery it made you pay for in other ways. -Below it was all roots and brambles, sunken paths and gullies full of -spongy black mud, out of which you could hardly draw your feet, and -where you sank knee-deep if you got even a little way off the track. -Presently, getting lost in the forest and scratched and muddied in -the opens, I began to curse the luckless time and the luckless place. - -After struggling and wading till I was overheated, though the night -was chilly, I got among some dry brake which were up to my chin; and -looking straight before me, I saw in the gray of the night something -like a huge black mass in the middle of an open tract. I felt sure -it was the big oak, and that I had reached the end of the forest. I -had never seen the tree, but I had heard tell of it, for it was -famous as one of the oldest in the country; and from the talk of -others I knew pretty well how it was shaped. You must surely have -seen it. It is a gnarled tree, topped in its youth by some accident -so that it grew in breadth and thickness; its foliage, shrivelled by -the winter, still clung to it, and it stood up there like a rock -looking to heaven. - -I was about to go towards it, thinking I should find the path, which -made a straight line through the woods, when I heard a sound of music -that was something like bagpipes, but so loud you might think it -thunder. - -Don't ask me why a thing which ought to have comforted me, by showing -the presence of a human being, did actually frighten me like a child. -I must honestly tell you that in spite of my nineteen years and a -good pair of fists, I had not felt easy after I found I had lost my -way. It was not because wolves do come down sometimes into that -forest from the great woods of Saint-Aoust that I lost heart, nor yet -that I feared any evil-intentioned Christian; but I was chilled -through with the kind of fear that you can't explain to your own -self, because you don't really know the cause of it. The dark night; -the wintry fog; a jumble of noises heard in the woods, with others -coming from the plain; a crowd of foolish stories which you have -heard, and which now start up in your head; and finally the idea of -being all alone far from your own belongings,--there's enough in all -that to upset your mind when you are young, and, indeed, when you are -old. - -You can laugh at me if you like; but that music, in that lonely -place, seemed to me devilish. It was too loud and strong to be -natural, and the tune was so sad and strange that it was not like any -other known music on this Christian earth. I quickened my steps; -then I stopped, amazed at another sound. While the music clashed on -one side, a bell chimed on the other; and the two sounds came at me, -as if to prevent me from going forward or back. - -I jumped to one side and hid in the brake; and as I did so, there was -a flash of light about four feet from me, and I saw a large black -animal, that I couldn't make out distinctly, spring up and disappear -at a run. - -Instantly from all parts of the undergrowth a crowd of the same -animals sprang out, stamping, and running towards the bell and -towards the music, which now seemed to be getting nearer to each -other. There might have been two hundred of these animals, but I saw -at least thirty thousand; for terror got hold of me, and I began to -see sparks and white specks in my eyes, such as fear produces in -those who can't defend themselves. - -I don't know whose legs carried me to the oak; I seemed to have none -of my own. But I got there, quite astonished to have crossed that -bit of ground like a whirlwind; and when I recovered breath I heard -nothing, neither far nor near, and could see nothing under the tree -nor yet in the brake, and was not quite sure that I hadn't dreamed a -pandemonium of crazy music and evil beasts. - -I began to look about me and find out where I was. The oak-branches -overhung a large piece of grassy ground; it was so dark under them -that I could not see my feet, and I stumbled over a big root and -fell, hands forward, upon the body of a man who was lying there as if -asleep or dead. I don't know what fear made me say or shout, but at -any rate my voice was recognized, and that of Joseph replied, -saying,-- - -"Is that you, Tiennet? What are you doing here at this time of -night?" - -"And you yourself, what are you doing, old fellow?" I replied, much -pleased and comforted to have found him. "I have looked everywhere -for you. Your mother was worrying, and I hoped you had got back to -her long ago." - -"I had business over here," he replied, "and before starting back I -wanted to rest, that's all." - -"Were not you afraid of being here alone at night in this hideous, -gloomy place?" - -"Afraid of what? Why should I be afraid, Tiennet? I don't -understand you." - -I was ashamed to confess what a fool I had been. Still, I did -venture to ask if he hadn't seen people and animals in the open. - -"Yes, yes," he said, "I have seen plenty of animals, and people too; -but they are not mischievous, and we can go away together without -their harming us." - -I fancied from his voice that he was sneering at my fears. I left -the oak as he did; but when we got out of its shadow, I fancied that -José's face and figure were not the same as usual. He seemed to me -taller, and carried his head higher, walking quickly, and speaking -with more energy than naturally belonged to him. This did not ease -my mind, for all sorts of queer recollections crossed it. It was not -from my grandmother only that I had heard tell that folks with white -faces and green eyes, gloomy tempers and speech that you couldn't -understand, were apt to consort with evil spirits; and in all -countries, as you know, old trees are said to be haunted by sorcerers -and _other such_. - -I hardly dared to breathe as long as we were in the undergrowth. I -kept expecting to see the same things I had either dreamed in my -brain or seen with my senses. But all was still; there was no sound -except the breaking of the dried branches as we went along, or the -crunching of the remains of ice under our feet. - -Joseph, who walked in front, did not follow the main path, but cut -across the covert. You would have thought he was a hare, well -acquainted with the ins and outs, and he led me so quickly to the -ford of the Igneraie, without crossing the potter's village, that it -seemed as if I got there by magic. Then he left me, without having -opened his lips, except to say that he wished to show himself to his -mother, as she was worried about him; and he followed the road to -Saint-Chartier, while I took a short cut through the two parishes to -my own house. - -I no sooner found myself in the places I was familiar with than my -terror left me, and I was very much ashamed not to have conquered it. -Joseph would no doubt have told me the things I wanted to know if I -had only asked him; for, for once in his life, he had lost his sleepy -air, and I had even detected for an instant a sort of laugh in his -voice, and something in his behavior like a wish to give assistance. - -However, when I had slept upon the adventure, and my senses were -calmer, I was convinced that I had not dreamed what I had seen in the -undergrowth, and I began to think there was something queer about -Joseph's tranquillity under the oak. The animals that I had seen in -such number were certainly not an ordinary sight. In our part of the -country we have no flocks, except sheep, and those I had seen were -animals of another color and another shape. They were neither horses -nor cattle nor sheep nor goats; besides, no animals were allowed to -pasture in the forest. - -Now, as I tell you all this, I think I was a great fool. And yet -there's a deal that's unknown in the affairs of this world into which -a man sticks his nose, and more still in God's affairs, which He -chooses to keep secret. Anyhow, I did not venture to question -Joseph; for though you may be inquisitive about good things, you -ought not to be so about evil ones; and, indeed, a wise man feels -reluctant to poke into matters where he may find a good deal more -than he looks for. - - - - -FOURTH EVENING. - -One thing gave me still more to think about in the following days. -It was discovered in Aulnières that Joseph every now and then stayed -out at night. - -People joked about it, thinking he had a love-affair; but it was no -use following and watching him, no one ever saw him turn to inhabited -parts, or speak to a living person. He went away across the fields -into the open country so quickly and slyly that it was impossible to -find out his secret. He returned about dawn, and went to work like -the rest; but instead of being weary, he seemed livelier and more -contented than usual. - -This was noticed three times in the course of the winter, which was -very long and very severe that year. But neither the snow nor the -north wind was able to keep Joseph from going off at night when the -fancy took him. People imagined he was one of those who walk or work -in their sleep; but it was nothing of the kind, as you will see. - -On Christmas Eve, as Véret, the sabot-maker, was on his way to keep -the midnight feast with his parents at Ourouer, he saw under the big -elm Râteau, not the giant who is said to walk under it with a rake on -his shoulder, but a tall dark man who did not have a good face, and -who was whispering quite low to another man not so tall, and who had -a more Christian kind of look. Véret was not actually afraid, and he -passed near enough to listen to what they were saying. But as soon -as the other two saw him, they separated. The dark man made off, -nobody knows where, and his comrade, coming up to Véret, said to him -in a strangled sort of voice,-- - -"Where are you going, Denis Véret?" - -The shoemaker began to be uneasy; and knowing that you must not speak -to the things of darkness, especially near an evil tree, he continued -his way without looking round; but he was followed by the being he -took to be a spirit, who walked behind, keeping step with him. - -When they reached the end of the open ground the pursuer turned to -the left, saying, "Good-night, Denis Véret!" - -And then for the first time Véret recognized Joseph, and laughed at -his own fears; but still without being able to imagine for what -purpose and in whose company Joseph had come to the big elm between -one and two o'clock in the morning. - -When this last affair came to my knowledge I felt very sorry, and -reproached myself for not trying to turn Joseph from the evil ways he -seemed to be taking. But I had let so much time elapse I did not -like to take the matter up then. I spoke to Brulette, who only made -fun of it; from which I began to believe they had a secret love for -each other of which I had been the dupe, like other folks who tried -to see magic in it and only saw fire. - -I was more grieved than angry. Joseph, so slack at his work and so -cranky, seemed to me a weak stay and a poor companion for Brulette. -I could have told her that (putting myself entirely out of the -question) she could have played a better game with her cards; but I -was afraid to say it, thinking I might make her angry, and so lose -her friendship, which seemed to me very sweet, even without her other -favors. - -One night, coming home, I found Joseph sitting on the edge of the -fountain which is called the Font de Fond. My house, then known by -the name of "God's crossing," because it was built where two roads, -since altered, crossed each other, looked out upon that fine -greensward which you saw not long ago sold and cut up as waste -land,--a great misfortune for the poor, who used it as a common to -feed their beasts, but hadn't enough money to buy it. It was a wide -bit of pasture-land, very green, and watered here and there by the -brook, which was not kept within bounds but ran as it pleased through -the grass, cropped short by the flocks, and always pleasing to the -eye as it stretched away in the distance. - -I contented myself with bidding Joseph good-evening; but he rose and -walked beside me, as if seeking a conversation, and seemed so -agitated that I was quite uneasy about him. - -"What's the matter with you?" I said at last, seeing that he was -talking at random, and twisting his body and groaning as though he -had stepped on an ant-hill. - -"How can you ask me?" he said, impatiently. "Is it nothing to you? -Are you deaf?" - -"Who? why? what is it?" I cried, thinking he must see some vision, -and not very anxious to share it. - -Then I listened, and heard in the distance the sound of a bagpipe, -which seemed to me natural enough. - -"Well," I said, "that's only some musician returning from a wedding -over at Berthenoux. Why should that annoy you?" - -Joseph answered with an air of decision,-- - -"That is Carnat's bagpipe, but he is not playing it; it is some one -more clumsy even than he." - -"Clumsy? Do you call Carnat clumsy with the bagpipe?" - -"Not clumsy with his hands, but clumsy in his ideas, Tiennet. Poor -man, he is not worthy of the blessing of a bagpipe! and that fellow -who is trying it now deserves that the good God should stop his -breath." - -"That's very strange talk, and I don't know where you have picked it -up. How do you know that is Carnat's bagpipe? It seems to me that -bagpipes are all alike, and grunt in the same way. I do hear that -the one down there is not properly played, and the tune is rather -choked off; but that doesn't trouble me, for I couldn't do as well. -Do you think you could do any better?" - -"I don't know; but there are certainly some who can play better than -that fellow and better than Carnat, his master. There are some who -have got at the truth of the thing." - -"Do you know them? Where are the people that you are talking about?" - -"I don't know. But somewhere truth must be, and when one has neither -time nor means to search for it, one's only chance is to meet it." - -"So your head is running on music, is it, José? I never should have -thought it. I have always known you as mute as a fish, never -catching nor humming a tune. When you used to practise on the -cornstalks like the herd-boys, you made such a jumble of the tunes -that nobody recognized them. In the matter of music we all thought -you more simple than children, who fancy they can play the bagpipes -with reeds; if you are not satisfied with Carnat, who keeps such good -time for dancing, and manages his fingers so skilfully, I am more -than ever sure your ear can't be good." - -"Yes, yes," said Joseph, "you are right to reprove me, for I say -foolish things and talk of what I know nothing about. Well, -good-night, Tiennet; forget what I said, for it is not what I wanted -to say; but I will think it over and try to tell you better another -time." - -And off he went, quickly, as if sorry for having spoken; but -Brulette, who came out of our house just then with my sister, called -to him and brought him back to me, saying,-- - -"It is time to put an end to these tales. Here is my cousin, who has -heard so much gossip about Joseph that she begins to think he is a -werewolf; the thing must be cleared up, once for all." - -"Let it be as you say," said Joseph, "for I am tired of being taken -for a sorcerer; I would rather be thought an idiot." - -"You are neither an idiot nor crazy," returned Brulette; "but you are -very obstinate, my poor José. You must know, Tiennet, that the lad -has nothing wrong in his head, except a fancy for music, which is not -so unreasonable as it is dangerous." - -"Then," answered I, "I understand what he was saying to me just now. -But where the devil did he pick up these ideas?" - -"Wait a minute!" said Brulette; "we must not irritate him unjustly. -Don't be in a hurry to say he can't make music; though perhaps you -think, like his mother and my grandfather, that his mind is as dense -to that as it used to be to the catechism. But I can tell you that -Mariton, and grandfather, and you are the ones who know nothing about -it. Joseph can't sing,--not that he is short of breath, but because -he can't make his throat do as he wants it; and as he isn't able to -satisfy himself he prefers not to use a voice he doesn't know how to -manage. Therefore, naturally enough, he wants to play upon some -instrument which has a voice in place of his own, and which can sing -for him whatever comes in his head. It is because he has failed to -get this borrowed voice that our poor lad is so sad and dreamy and -wrapped up in himself." - -"It is exactly as she tells you," remarked Joseph, who seemed -comforted to hear the young girl lift his thoughts out of his heart -and make me comprehend them. "But she does not tell you that she has -a voice for me, so sweet, so clear, which repeats so correctly the -music she hears that ever since I was a child my greatest pleasure is -to listen to her." - -"Yes," said Brulette, "but we always had a crow to pick with each -other. I liked to do as all the other little girls who kept their -flocks did; that is, sing at the top of my voice so that I could be -heard a long distance. Screaming like that, I outdid my strength and -spoilt all, and hurt José's ears. Then, after I settled down to -singing reasonably, he thought I had a good memory for all the tunes -that were singable, those which pleased the lad and those that put -him in a rage; and more than once I've known him turn his back on me -suddenly and rush off without a word, though he had asked me to sing. -For that matter, he is not always civil or kind; but as it is he, I -laugh instead of getting angry. I know very well he'll come back, -for his memory is not sure, and when he has heard an air that pleases -him he comes to me for it, and he is pretty sure to find it in my -head." - -I remarked to Brulette that as Joseph had such a poor memory he -didn't seem to me born to play the bagpipes. - -"Oh nonsense!" she said, "it is just there that you have got to turn -your opinion wrong side out. You see, my poor Tiennet, that neither -you nor I know the _truth of the thing_, as José says. But by dint -of living with him and his visions I have come to understand what he -either does not know or dares not say. The 'truth of the thing' is -that José thinks he can invent his own music; and he does invent it, -for sure. He has succeeded in making a flute out of a reed, and he -plays upon it; I don't know how, for he won't let me, nor any one -else, hear him. When he wants to play he goes off, on Sundays and -sometimes at night, into lonely places where he can flute as he -likes; but when I ask him to play for me he answers that he does not -yet know what he wants to know, and that he can't do as I ask until -it is worth while. That's why, ever since he invented his -instrument, he goes off on Sundays and sometimes, during the week, at -night, when his music grips him hard. So you see, Tiennet, that it -is all very harmless. But it is time we should have an explanation -between us three; for José has now set his mind on spending his next -wages--up to this time he has always given them to his mother--in -buying a bagpipe; and, as he knows he is a poor hand at farm-labor -and yet his heart is set on relieving his mother of hard work, he -wants to take up the business of playing the bagpipe because, true -enough, it pays well." - -"It would be a good idea," said my sister, who was listening to us, -"if Joseph really has a talent for it. But, before buying the -bagpipe, it is my opinion he ought to know something about using it." - -"That's a matter of time and patience," said Brulette, "and there's -no hindrance there. Don't you know that for some time past Carnat's -son has been learning to play, so as to take his father's place." - -"Yes," I answered, "and I see what will come of it. Carnat is old -and some one might have a chance for his custom; but his son wants -it, and will get it because he is rich and has influence in the -neighborhood; while you, José, have neither money to buy your bagpipe -nor a master to teach you, nor friends who like your music to push -you on." - -"That is true," replied Joseph, sadly; "I have nothing but my idea, -my reed, and--_her_." - -So saying he motioned towards Brulette, who took his hand -affectionately as she answered:-- - -"José, I believe in what you have in your head, but I can't feel -certain that you will ever get it out. To will and to do are not the -same thing; to dream music and play the flute differ widely. I know -what you have in your ears, in your brain, in your heart,--the music -of the good God; for I saw it in your eyes when I was a little thing -and you took me on your knee and said, in a weird kind of way, -'Listen, and don't make a noise, and try to remember what you hear.' -Then I did listen faithfully, and all I heard was the wind talking in -the trees, or the brook murmuring along the pebbles; but you, you -heard something else, and you were so certain of it that I was, too, -for sympathy. Well, my lad, keep the music that is so sweet and dear -in your secret heart, but don't try to make yourself a piper by -profession; for if you do, one of two things will happen. Either you -will never make your bagpipes say what the wind and the brook whisper -in your ear, or you will become such a fine and delicate musician -that all the petty pipers in the countryside will pick a quarrel with -you and prevent you from getting custom. They will wish you ill and -do you harm, for that's their way to prevent others from sharing -their profits and their fame. There are a dozen here and in the -neighborhood who can't agree together, but who will join and support -each other in keeping out a new hand. Your mother, who hears them -talk on Sundays,--for they are thirsty folk and accustomed to drink -late at night after the dances,--is very unhappy to think you want to -join such a set of people. They are rough and ill-behaved, and -always foremost in quarrels and fights. The habit of being at all -festivals and idle resorts makes them drunkards and spendthrifts. In -short, they are a tribe unlike any of the people belonging to you, -among whom, she thinks, you will go to the bad. As for me, I think -they are jealous and revengeful, and would try to crush your spirit, -and perhaps your body, too. And so, José, I do ask you to at least -put off your plan and lay aside your wishes, and even to give them up -altogether, if it is not asking too much of your friendship for me, -and for your mother and Tiennet." - -As I supported Brulette's arguments, which seemed to me sound, Joseph -was in despair; but presently he took courage and said:-- - -"I thank you for your advice, my friends, which I know is given for -my good; but I beg you to leave me my freedom of mind for a short -time longer. When I have reached a point I think I shall reach, I -will ask you to hear me play the flute, or the bagpipe if it please -God to enable me to buy one. Then, if you decide that my music is -good for anything it will be worth while for me to make use of my -talent and I will face the struggle for love of it. If not, I will -go on digging the earth and amusing myself with my reed-pipe on -Sundays, without making a living and so offending anybody. Promise -me this, and I will have patience." - -We made the promise, to quiet him, for he seemed more annoyed by our -fears than touched by our sympathy. I looked in his face by the -light of the stars, and saw it even more distinctly because the -bright water of the fountain was before us like a mirror, which -reflected on our faces the whiteness of the sky. I noticed that his -eyes had the very color of the water and seemed as usual to be -looking at things which the rest of us did not see. - -A month later Joseph came to see me at my own house. - -"The time has come," he said, with a clear look and a confident -voice, "for the two persons whose judgment I trust to hear me play. -I want Brulette to come here to-morrow night, because here we can be -quiet by ourselves. I know your relations start on a pilgrimage -to-morrow on account of that fever your brother had; so that you will -be alone in the house, which is far enough in the country for no one -to overhear us. I have spoken to Brulette, and she is willing to -leave the village after nightfall; I shall wait for her on the lower -road, and we can get here without any one seeing us. Brulette relies -on you not to tell of it; and her grandfather, who approves of -whatever she wishes, consents too, if you will make that promise, -which I have given for you." - -At the appointed hour I waited in front of my house, having closed -all the doors and windows, so that the passers-by (if any there were) -should think me in bed or absent. It was now spring; and as it had -thundered during the day, the sky was still thick with clouds. Gusts -of warm wind brought all the sweet smells of the month of May. I -listened to the nightingales answering each other from distance to -distance as far as I could hear, and I thought to myself that Joseph -would be hard put to it to flute like them. I saw the lights of the -houses in the village going out one by one; and about ten minutes -after the last disappeared I found the couple I was waiting for close -beside me. They had stepped so softly on the young grass and so -close to the big bushes at the side of the road that I had neither -seen nor heard them. I took them into the house, where the lamp was -lit; and when I looked at them--she with her hair so coquettishly -dressed, and he, as usual, cold and thoughtful--I could scarcely -suppose them to be ardently tender lovers. - -While I talked a little with Brulette, to do the honors of the house -(which was quite a nice one, and I wanted her to take a fancy to it), -Joseph, without a word to me, had set about tuning his flute. He -found the damp weather had affected it, and he threw a handful of -flax chips on the hearth to warm it. When the chips blazed up they -cast a strong light upon his face, which was bent towards the -fireplace; and I thought his look so strange that I called Brulette's -attention to it in a low voice. - -"You may think," I said to her, "that he hides by day and wanders off -at night solely to surfeit himself with that flute; but I know that -he has in him or about him some secret that he does not tell us." - -"Bah!" she exclaimed, laughing; "just because Véret, the sabot-maker, -fancies he saw him with a tall, dark man near the Râteau elm!" - -"Perhaps Véret dreamed that," I answered; "but as for me, I know what -I saw and heard in the forest." - -"What did you see?" said José, suddenly, who had heard every word, -though we spoke quite low. "What did you hear? You saw him who is -my friend, but whom I cannot make known to you; and as for what you -heard, you are going now to hear it again if it pleases you to do so." - -Thereupon he blew into his flute, his eye on fire and his face -blazing as if with fever. - -Don't ask me what he played. I don't know if the devil would have -understood it; as for me, I didn't, except that it seemed the same -air I had heard among the brake, on the bagpipes. At that time I was -so frightened that I didn't listen to it all; but now, whether it was -that the music was longer, or that Joseph put some of his own into -it, he never stopped fluting for a quarter of an hour, setting his -fingers very delicately, never losing his breath, and getting such -sounds out of his miserable reed that you would have thought, at -times, there were three bagpipes going at once. At other times he -played so softly that you could hear the cricket indoors and the -nightingales without; and when José played low I confess I liked -it,--though the whole together was so little like what we were -accustomed to that it seemed to me a crazy racket. - -"Oh, oh!" I exclaimed, when he had finished; "that's a mad sort of -music! Where the devil did you learn that? What is the use of it? -Is there any meaning in it?" - -He did not answer, and seemed as if he had not heard me. He was -looking at Brulette, who was leaning against a chair with her face -turned to the wall. - -As she did not say a word, José was seized with a rush of anger -either against her or against himself, and I saw him make a motion as -if to break his flute; but just at that moment the girl looked round, -and I was much surprised to see great tears running down her cheeks. - -Joseph ran to her and caught her hands. - -"Tell me what you feel, my darling!" he cried; "let me know if it is -pity for me that makes you cry, or whether it is pleasure." - -"I don't know how pleasure in a thing like that could make me cry," -she said. "Don't ask me if I feel pain or pleasure; all that I know -is that I can't help crying." - -"But what were you thinking of while I played?" said Joseph, looking -fixedly at her. - -"So many things that I can't give account of them," replied Brulette. - -"Well, tell me one," he said, in a tone that was impatient and -dictatorial. - -"I did not think of anything," said Brulette, "but a thousand -recollections of old times came into my mind. I seemed not to see -you playing, though I heard you clearly enough; you appeared to be no -older than when we lived together, and I felt as if you and I were -driven by a strong wind, sometimes through the ripe wheat, sometimes -into the long grass, at other times upon the running streams; and I -saw the fields, the woods, the springs, the flowery meadows, and the -birds in the sky among the clouds. I saw, too, in my dream, your -mother and my grandfather sitting before the fires, and talking of -things I could not understand; and all the while you were in the -corner on your knees saying your prayers, and I thought I was asleep -in my little bed. Then again I saw the ground covered with snow, and -the willows full of larks, and the nights full of falling stars; and -we looked at each other, sitting on a hillock, while the sheep made -their little noise of nibbling the grass. In short, I dreamed so -many things that they are all jumbled up in my head; and if they made -me cry, it was not for grief, but because my mind was shaken in a way -I can't at all explain to you." - -"It is all right," said José. "What I saw and what I dreamed as I -played you saw too! Thank you, Brulette. Through you I know now -that I am not crazy, and that there is a truth in what we hear within -us, as there is in what we see. Yes, yes," he said, taking long -strides up and down the room and holding his flute above his head, -"it speaks!--that miserable bit of reed! it says what we think; it -shows what we see; it tells a tale as if with words; it loves like -the heart, it lives, it has a being! And now, José the madman, José -the idiot, José the starer, go back to your imbecility; you can -afford to do so, for you are as powerful, and as wise, and as happy -as others!" - -So saying, he sat down and paid no further attention to anything -about him. - - - - -FIFTH EVENING. - -We stared at him, Brulette and I, for he was no longer the José we -knew. As for me, there was something in all this which reminded me -of the tales they tell among us of the wandering bagpipers, who are -supposed to tame wild animals and to lead packs of wolves by night -along the roads, just as other people lead their flocks in the -meadows. José did not have a natural look as he sat there before me. -Instead of being pale and puny, he seemed taller and better in -health, as I had seen him in the forest. In short, he looked like a -person. His eyes beamed in his head with the glitter of two stars, -and any one who had called him the handsomest fellow in the world -wouldn't have been mistaken at that particular moment. - -It seemed to me that Brulette also was under some spell or witchery, -because she had seen so many things in that fluting when I could only -see the excitement of it. I sorely wanted to make her admit that -José would never get any one but the devil to dance to such music; -but she wouldn't listen to me, and asked him to begin again. - -He was ready enough to do that, and began with a tune which was like -the first, and yet was not quite the same; but I saw that his ideas -had not changed, and that he was determined not to give in to our -country fashions. Seeing that Brulette listened as if she had a -taste for the thing, I made an effort in my mind to see if I couldn't -like it too; and I seemed to get accustomed to this new kind of music -so quickly that something was stirred inside of me. I too had a -vision: I thought I saw Brulette dancing alone by the light of the -moon under a hawthorn all in bloom, and shaking her pink apron as if -about to fly away. But just then, all of a sudden, a sort of ringing -of bells was heard not far off, like that I had heard in the forest, -and Joseph stopped fluting, cut short in the very middle of a tune. - -I came out of my vision, quite convinced that the bell was not a -dream; Joseph himself was interrupted, and stood stock-still, -evidently vexed; while Brulette gazed at him, not less astonished -than I was. - -All my terrors came back to me. - -"José," I said, reproachfully, "there is more in this than you choose -to confess. You did not learn what you know all by yourself; there's -a companion outside who is answering you, whether you will or no. -Come, tell him to go away; for I don't want to have him in my house. -I invited you, and not him, nor any of his tribe. If he doesn't go, -I'll sing him an anthem he won't like." - -So saying, I took my father's old gun from over the chimney-piece, -knowing it was loaded with three consecrated balls; for the Evil -Beast was in the habit of roaming about the Font de Fond, and though -I had never seen him, I was always prepared to do so, knowing that my -parents feared him very much and that he had frequently molested them. - -Joseph began to laugh instead of answering me; then, calling to his -dog, he went to open the door. My own dog had followed my family on -their pilgrimage, so that I had no way of ascertaining whether they -were real people or evil ones who were ringing the bells; for you -must know that animals, particularly dogs, are very wise in such -matters, and bark in a way that lets human beings know the truth. - -It is a fact that Parpluche, Joseph's dog, instead of getting angry, -ran at once to the door and sprang out gayly enough; as soon as it -was opened but the creature might have been bewitched, and so far as -I could see, there was nothing good in the matter. - -Joseph went out; the wind, which had grown very high, slammed the -door after him. Brulette, who had risen, made as if she would open -it to see what was going on; but I stopped her quickly, saying there -was certainly some wicked secret under it all, so that she, too, -began to be afraid and wished she had never come. - -"Don't be frightened, Brulette," said I; "I believe in evil spirits, -but I am not afraid of them. They do no harm except to those who -seek them, and all they can ever do to real Christians is to frighten -them. But that's a fear we can and ought to conquer. Come, say a -prayer, and I'll hold the door, and you may be sure no harmful thing -can get in." - -"But that poor lad," said Brulette; "if he is in danger, ought we not -to get him back?" - -I made her a sign to be silent, and putting myself close to the door -with my loaded gun I listened with all my ears. The wind blew high -and the bell could only be heard now and then and seemed to be moving -farther off. Brulette was at the farther end of the room, -half-laughing, half-trembling, for she was a brave, intrepid sort of -girl, who joked about the devil, though she would not have liked to -make acquaintance with him. - -Presently I heard José coming back and saying, not far from the -door,-- - -"Yes, yes, directly after midsummer. Thank you and the good God! I -will do just as you say; you have my word for that." - -As he mentioned the good God I felt more confidence, so opening the -door a trifle I looked out, and there I saw, by the light that -streamed from the house, José, walking beside a villanous-looking -man, all black from head to foot, even his face and hands, and behind -him two big black dogs who were romping with Joseph's dog. The man -answered, with such a loud voice that Brulette heard him and -trembled: "Good-bye, little man; we shall meet again. Here, Clairin!" - -He had no sooner said that than the bells began to jingle, and I saw -a lean little horse come up to him, half-crouching, with eyes like -live coals, and a bell which shone bright as gold upon his neck. -"Call up your comrades!" said the tall dark man. The little horse -galloped away, followed by the two dogs, and his master after shaking -hands with José went away too. Joseph came in and shut the door, -saying with a scornful air,-- - -"What were you doing here, Tiennet?" - -"And you, José, what have you got there?" I retorted, seeing that he -had a parcel wrapped in black oil-cloth under his arm. - -"That?" he said, "that is something the good God has sent me at the -very hour it was promised. Come, Tiennet; come, Brulette; see the -fine present God has made me!" - -"The good God doesn't send black angels or make presents to -wrong-doers." - -"Hush," said Brulette, "let José explain himself." - -But she had hardly said the words when a loud commotion, like the -galloping of two hundred animals, was heard from the broad -grass-ground around the fountain, some sixty feet from the house, -from which it was separated by the garden and hemp-field. The bell -tinkled, the dogs barked, and the man's rough voice was heard -shouting, "Quick, quick! here, here! to me, Clairin! come, come! I -miss three! You, Louveteau, you, Satan! off with you, quick!" - -For a moment Brulette was so frightened that she ran from Joseph to -me, which gave me fine courage, and seizing my gun again I said to -Joseph:-- - -"I don't choose that your people should come racketing round here at -night. Brulette has had enough of it and she wants to be taken home. -Come now, stop this sorcery or I'll chase your witches." - -Joseph stopped me as I was going out. - -"Stay here," he said, "and don't meddle with what does not concern -you; or maybe you'll regret it later. Keep still, and see what I -brought in; you shall know all about it presently." - -As the uproar was now dying away in the distance, I did look, all the -more because Brulette was crazy to know what was in the parcel; and -Joseph, undoing it, showed us a bagpipe, so large, and full, and -handsome that it was really a splendid thing, and such as I had never -seen before. - -It had double bellows, one of which measured five feet from end to -end; and the wood of the instrument, which was black cherry, dazzled -the eyes with the pewter ornaments, made to shine like silver, which -were inlaid at all the joints. The wind-bag was of handsome leather -tied with a knot of calico, striped blue and white; indeed, the whole -workmanship was done in so clever a way that it only took a very -little breath to fill the bag and send out a sound like thunder. - -"The die is cast!" said Brulette, to whom Joseph was not listening, -so intent was he in taking apart and replacing the various parts of -his bagpipe. "You will be a piper, José, in spite of the hindrances -you will meet with, and the trouble it will be to your mother." - -"I shall be a piper," he said, "when I know how to play the bagpipe. -Before then the wheat will ripen and the leaves will fall. Don't let -us trouble ourselves about what will happen, children; but see things -as they are, and don't accuse me of dealings with the devil. He who -brought me that bagpipe is neither a sorcerer nor a demon. He is a -man rather rough at times, for his business requires it, and as he is -going to spend the night not far from here I advise you and I beg -you, friend Tiennet, not to go where he is. Excuse me for not -telling you his name or his business; and also promise me not to say -that you have seen him or that he came round this way. It might -cause him annoyance as well as the rest of us. Be content to know -that he is a man of good sense and good judgment. It is he whom you -saw in the underbrush of the forest of Saint-Chartier, playing a -bagpipe like this one; for though he is not a piper by trade, he -understands it thoroughly, and has played me airs that are much more -beautiful than ours. He saw that not having enough money I could not -buy such an instrument, and so he was satisfied with a small amount -and lent me the rest, promising to buy the instrument and bring it me -just about this time, letting me pay for it as I am able. For this -thing, you see, costs eight pistoles, nearly one year's wages! Now, -as I hadn't a third of it, he said, 'Trust me, give me what you have, -and I will trust you in the same way.' That's how the thing -happened. I didn't know him a mite and we had no witnesses: he could -have cheated me if he wished, and if I had asked your advice you -would have dissuaded me from trusting him. But you see now that he -is a faithful man, for he said, 'I will come round your way at -Christmas and give you an answer.' At Christmas I met him under the -Râteau elm, and sure enough he came, and said: 'The thing is not yet -finished; but it is being made; between the first and tenth of May I -will be here again, and bring it.' This is the eighth. He has come, -and just as he turned a little out of his way to look for me in the -village he heard the air I was playing, which he was certain no one -in these parts knew but me; and as for me, I heard and recognized his -bell. That's how it happened, and the devil had nothing to do with -it. We said good-evening to each other and promised to meet at -midsummer." - -"If that is so," I remarked, "why didn't you bring him in here, where -he could have rested and been refreshed with a glass of good wine? I -would have given him a hearty welcome for keeping his word to you -faithfully." - -"Oh! as for that," replied Joseph, "he is a man who doesn't always -behave like other people. He has his ways, and his own ideas and -reasons. Don't ask me more than I ought to tell you." - -"Why not? is it because he is hiding from honest people?" asked -Brulette. "I think that is worse than being a sorcerer. He must be -some one who has done wrong, or he would not be roaming round at -night, and you wouldn't be forbidden to speak of him." - -"I will tell you all about it to-morrow," said Joseph, smiling at our -fears. "To-night, you can think what you please, for I shall tell -you nothing more. Come, Brulette, there's the cuckoo striking -midnight. I'll take you home and leave my bagpipe hidden away in -your charge. For I certainly shall not practise on it in this -neighborhood; the time to make myself known has not yet come." - -Brulette said good-night to me very prettily, putting her hand into -mine. But when I saw that she put her arm into Joseph's to go away, -jealousy galloped off with me again, and as they went along the -high-road I cut across the hemp-field and posted myself beneath the -hedge to see them pass. The weather had cleared a little, but there -had been a shower, and Brulette let go of Joseph's arm to pick up her -dress, saying, "It is not easy to walk two together; go in front." - -If I had been in José's place I should have offered to carry her over -the muddy places, or, if I had not dared to take her in my arms, I -should have lingered behind her to look at her pretty ankles. But -José did nothing of the kind, he concerned himself about nothing but -his bagpipe; and as I saw him handling it with care and looking -lovingly at it, I said to myself that he hadn't any other love just -then. - -I returned home, easy in mind in more ways than one, and went to bed, -somewhat fatigued both in body and mind. - -But it was not half an hour before Monsieur Parpluche, who had been -amusing himself with the stranger's dogs, came scratching at the door -in search of his master. I rose to let him in, and just then I -fancied I heard a noise in my oats, which were coming up green and -thick at the back of the house. It seemed to me that they were being -cropped and trampled by some four-footed beast who had no business -there. - -I caught up the first stick that came to hand and ran out, whistling -to Parpluche, who did not obey me but made off, looking for his -master, after snuffing about the house. - -Entering the field, I saw something rolling on its back with its paws -in the air, crushing the oats right and left, getting up, jumping -about and browsing quite at its ease. For a moment I was afraid to -run after it, not knowing what kind of beast it was. I could see -nothing clearly but its ears, which were too long for a horse; but -the body was too black and stout for a donkey. I approached it -gently; it seemed neither wild nor mischievous, and then I knew it -was a mule, though I had seldom seen one, for we don't raise them in -our part of the country, and the muleteers never pass this way. I -was just going to catch him and already had my hand on his mane when -he threw up his hindquarters and lashing out a dozen kicks which I -had scarcely time to avoid, he leaped like a hare over the ditch and -ran away so quickly that in a moment he was out of sight. - -Not wishing to have my oats ruined by the return of the beast, I put -off going to bed till I could have an easy mind. I returned to the -house to get my shoes and waistcoat, and after fastening the doors I -went through the fields in the direction the mule had taken. I had -little doubt that he belonged to the troop of the dark man, Joseph's -friend. Joseph had certainly advised me to see nothing of him, but -now that I had touched a living animal I was afraid of nothing. -Nobody likes ghosts; but when you know you are dealing with solid -things it is another affair; and the moment I realized that the dark -man was a man, no matter how strong he was or how much he had daubed -himself over, I didn't care for him any more than I did for a weasel. - -You must have heard say that I was one of the strongest fellows of -these parts in my young days; in fact, such as I am now, I am not yet -afraid of any man. - -Moreover, I was as nimble as a roach, and I knew that in dangers -where the strength of a man was not enough to save him, it would have -needed the wings of a bird to overtake me in running. Accordingly, -having provided myself with a rope and my own gun (which didn't have -consecrated balls, but could carry truer than my father's), I set out -on a voyage of discovery. - -I had scarcely taken a couple of hundred steps when I saw three more -animals of the same kind in my brother-in-law's pasture, where they -were behaving themselves just as badly as possible. Like the first -brute, they allowed me to approach them, and then immediately -galloped off to a farm on the estate of Aulnières, where they met -another troop of mules capering about as lively as mice, rearing and -kicking in the rising moonlight,--a regular _donkey-chase_, which you -know is what they call the dance of the devil's she-asses, when the -fairies and the will-o-the-wisps gallop up there among the clouds. - -However, there was really no magic here; but only a great robbery of -pasture, and abominable mischief done to the grain. The crop was not -mine, and I might have said that it was none of my business, but I -felt provoked to have run after the troublesome animals for nothing, -and you can't see the fine wheat of the good God trampled and -destroyed without answer. - -I went on into the big wheat-field without meeting a single Christian -soul, though the mules seemed to increase in numbers every minute. I -meant to catch at least one, which would serve as proof when I -complained to the authorities of the damage done to the farm. - -I singled out one which seemed to be more docile than the rest, but -when I got near him I saw that he wasn't the same game, but the lean -little horse with a bell round his neck; which bell, as I learned -later, is called in the Bourbonnais districts a _clairin_, and the -horse that wears it goes by the same name. Not knowing the habits of -these animals, it was by mere good luck that I chanced upon the right -way to manage them, which was to get hold of the bell-horse, or -_clairin_, and lead him away, being certain to catch a mule or two -afterwards if I succeeded. - -The little animal, which seemed good-natured and well-trained, let me -pet him and lead him away without seeming to care; but as soon as he -began to walk, the bell on his neck began to jingle, and great was my -surprise to see the crowd of mules, scattered here and there among -the wheat, come trooping upon us, and tearing after me like bees -after their queen. I saw then that they were trained to follow the -_clairin_, and that they knew its ring just as well as good monks -know the bell for matins. - - - - -SIXTH EVENING. - -I did not long debate what I should do with the mischievous horde. I -went straight for the manor of Aulnières, thinking that I could -easily open the gates of the yard and drive the beasts in; after -which I would wake the farmers and they, when informed of the damage -done, would do as they saw fit. - -I was just nearing the yard when, as it happened, I fancied I saw a -man running on the road behind me. I cocked my gun, thinking that if -he was the muleteer I should have a bone to pick with him. But it -was Joseph, on his way back to Aulnières after escorting Brulette to -the village. - -"What are you doing here, Tiennet?" he said to me, coming up as fast -as he could run. "Didn't I tell you not to leave home to-night? You -are in danger of death; Let go that horse and don't meddle with those -mules. What can't be helped must be endured for fear of worse evils." - -"Thank you, comrade," I answered. "Your fine friends pasture their -cavalry in my field and you expect me to say nothing! Very good, -very good! go your ways if you are afraid yourself, but as for me, I -shall see the thing out, and get justice done by law or might." - -As I spoke, having stopped a moment to answer him, we heard a dog -bark in the distance, and José, seizing the rope by which I was -leading the horse, cried out:-- - -"Quick, Tiennet! here come the muleteer's dogs! If you don't want to -be torn in pieces, let go the horse; see, he hears them and you can't -do anything with him now." - -Sure enough, the _clairin_ pricked his ears to listen; then laying -them back, which is a great sign of ill-temper, he began to neigh and -rear and kick, which brought all the mules capering round us, so that -we had scarcely time to get out of the way before the whole of them -rushed by at full speed in the direction of the dogs. - -I was not satisfied to yield, however, and as the dogs, having called -in their wild troop, showed signs of making straight for us, I took -aim with my gun as if to shoot the first of the two that came at me. -But Joseph went up to the dog and made him recognize him. - -"Ah! Satan," he said to him, "the fault is yours. Why did you chase -the hares into the wheat instead of watching your beasts? When your -master wakes up you will be whipped if you are not at your post with -Louveteau and the _clairin_." - -Satan, understanding that he was being reproved for his behavior, -obeyed Joseph, who called him towards a large tract of waste land -where the mules could feed without doing any damage, and where -Joseph, as he told me, intended to watch them until their master -returned. - -"Nevertheless, José," I said to him, "matters won't blow over as -quietly as you think for; and if you will not tell me where the owner -of these mules hides himself, I shall stay here and wait for him, and -say what I think to his face, and demand reparation for the harm -done." - -"You don't know muleteers if you think it easy to get the better of -them," replied Joseph. "I believe it is the first time any of them -have ever passed this way. It is not their usual road; they commonly -come down from the Bourbonnais forests through those of Meillant and -L'Éspinasse into the Cheurre woods. I happened accidentally to meet -them in the forest of Saint-Chartier, where they were halting on -their way to Saint-Août; among them was the man who is here now, -whose name is Huriel, and who is on his way to the iron works of -Ardentes for coal and ore. He has been kind enough to come two hours -out of his way to oblige me. And it may be that, having left his -companions and the heath country through which the roads frequented -by men of his business run, where his mules can pasture without -injuring any one, he fancied he was just as free here in our -wheat-lands; and though he is altogether wrong, it would be best not -to tell him so." - -"He will have to know what I think," I answered, "for I see now how -the land lays. Ho! ho! muleteers! we know what they are. You remind -me of things I have heard my godfather, Gervais the forester, tell -of. Muleteers are lawless men, wicked and ignorant, who would kill a -man with as little conscience as they would a rabbit. They think -they have a right to feed their beasts at the expense of the -peasantry, and if any one complains who is not strong enough to -resist them, they will come back later or send their comrades to kill -the poor man's cattle or burn his house, or worse; they live on -plunder, like thieves at a fair." - -"As you have heard those things," said Joseph, "you must see that we -should be very foolish to draw down some great harm to the farmers -and my master and your family in revenge for a little one. I don't -defend what has been done, and when Maître Huriel told me he was -going to pasture his mules and camp at Nohant, as he does elsewhere -at all seasons, I told him about this bit of common and advised him -not to let his mules stray into the wheat-fields. He promised he -would not; for he is not at all ill-disposed. But his temper is -quick, and he wouldn't back down if a whole crowd of people fell upon -him. Please go back to your own property, keep clear of these -beasts, and don't pick a quarrel with anybody. If you are questioned -to-morrow, say you saw nothing; for to swear in a court of law -against a muleteer is quite as dangerous as to swear against a lord." - -Joseph was right; so I gave in, and took the road towards home; but I -was not satisfied, for backing down before a threat is wisdom to old -men and bitter wrath to young ones. - -As I neared the house, quite resolved not to go to bed, I fancied I -saw a light in it. I quickened my steps and finding the door, which -I had latched, wide open, I rushed in and saw a man in the -chimney-corner lighting his pipe by a blaze he had made. He turned -round and looked at me as quietly as if the house were his, and I -recognized the charcoal-blackened man whom Joseph called Huriel. - -My wrath returned; and closing the door behind me I exclaimed as I -went up to him:-- - -"Well done! I am glad you have walked into the lion's den. I've a -couple of words to say to you." - -"Three, if you like," he said, squatting on his heels and drawing -fire through his pipe, for the tobacco was damp and did not light -readily. Then he added, as if scornfully, "There's not even a pair -of tongs to pick up the embers." - -"No," I retorted, "but there's a good cudgel to flatten you out with." - -"And pray why?" he demanded without losing an atom of assurance. -"You are angry because I have entered your house without permission. -Why were not you at home? I knocked on the door and asked to light -my pipe, a thing no one ever refuses. Silence gives consent, so I -pulled the latch. Why did not you lock the door if you are afraid of -thieves? I looked at the beds and saw the house was empty; I lighted -my pipe, and here I am. What have you to say to that?" - -So saying, as I tell you, he took up his gun as if to examine the -lock, but it was really as much as to say, "If you are armed, so am -I; two can play at that game." - -I had an idea of aiming at him to make him respect me; but the longer -I looked at his blackened face the more I was struck with his frank -air and his lively, jovial eye, so that I ceased to be angry and felt -only piqued. He was a young man of twenty-five, tall and strong, and -if washed and shaved, would have been quite a handsome fellow. I put -my gun down beside the wall and went up to him without fear. - -"Let us talk," I said, sitting down by him. - -"As you will," he answered, laying aside his gun. - -"Is it you they call Huriel?" - -"And you Étienne Depardieu?" - -"How do you know my name?" - -"Just as you know mine,--from our little friend Joseph Picot." - -"Then they are your mules that I have caught?" - -"Caught!" he exclaimed, half-rising in astonishment. Then, laughing, -he added: "You are joking! you can't catch my mules." - -"Yes, I can," I said, "if I catch and lead the horse." - -"Ha! you have learned the trick?" he cried, with a defiant air. "But -how about the dogs?" - -"I don't fear dogs when I've a gun in my hand." - -"Have you killed my dogs?" he shouted, jumping up. His face flamed -with anger, which let me know that though he might be jovial by -nature he could be terrible at times. - -"I might have killed your dogs," I replied, "and I might have led -your mules into a farmyard where you would have found a dozen strong -fellows to deal with. I did not do it because Joseph told me you -were alone, and that it was not fair for a mere piece of mischief to -put you in danger of losing your life. I agreed to that reason. But -now we are one to one. Your beasts have injured my field and my -sister's field, and what's more, you have entered my house in my -absence, which is improper and insolent. You will beg pardon for -your behavior and pay damages for my oats, or--" - -"Or what?" he said, with a sneer. - -"Or we will settle the matter according to the laws and customs of -Berry, which are, I think, the same as those of the Bourbonnais where -fists are lawyers." - -"That is to say, the law of the strongest," he replied, turning up -his sleeves. "That suits me better than going before the justices, -and if you are really alone and don't play traitor--" - -"Come outside," I said, "and you shall see that I am alone. You are -wrong to insult me in that way, for I might have shot you as I came -in. But guns are made to kill wolves and mad dogs. I didn't want to -treat you like a beast, and though you have a chance to shoot me at -this moment I think it cowardly for men to pepper each other with -balls when fists were given to human beings to fight with. As to -that, I don't think you are a greater fool than I, and if you have -got pluck--" - -"My lad," he said, pulling me towards the fire to look at me, -"perhaps you are making a mistake. You are younger than I am, and -though you look pretty wiry and solid I wouldn't answer for that skin -of yours. I would much rather you spoke me fairly about your damages -and trusted to my honesty." - -"Enough," I said, knocking his hat into the ashes to anger him; "the -best bruised of us two will get justice presently." - -He quietly picked up his hat and laid it on the table saying,-- - -"What are the rules in this part of the country?" - -"Among young fellows," I replied, "there is no ill-will or treachery. -We seize each other round the body, or strike where we can except on -the face. He who takes a stick or a stone is thought a scoundrel." - -"That is not exactly our way," he said. "But come on, I shan't spare -you; if I hit harder than I mean to, surrender; for there's a time, -you know, when one can't answer for one's self." - -Once outside on the thick sward we off coats (not to spoil them -uselessly), and began to wrestle, clasping thighs and lifting one -another bodily. I had the advantage of him there, for he was taller -than I by a head, and in bending over he gave me a better grip. -Besides, he was not angry, and thinking he would soon get the better -of me, he didn't put forth his strength. So being, I was able to -floor him at the third round, falling on top of him, but there he -recovered himself, and before I had time to strike he wound himself -round me like a snake and squeezed me so closely that I lost my -breath. Nevertheless, I managed to get up first and attack him -again. When he saw that he had to do with a free hitter, and caught -it well in the stomach and on the shoulders, he gave me as good as I -sent, and I must own that his fist was like a sledge-hammer. But I -would have died sooner than show I felt it; and each time that he -cried out, "Surrender!" I plucked up courage and strength to pay him -in his own coin. So for a good quarter of an hour the fight seemed -even. Presently, however, I felt I was getting exhausted while he -was only warming to the work; for if he had less activity than I, his -age and temperament were in his favor. The end of it was that I was -down beneath him and fairly beaten and unable to release myself. But -for all that I wouldn't cry mercy; and when he saw that I would -rather be killed he behaved like a generous fellow. - -"Come, enough!" he cried, loosing his grip on my throat; "your will -is stronger than your bones, I see that, and I might break them to -bits before you would give in. That's right! and as you are a true -man let us be friends. I beg your pardon for entering your house; -and now let us talk over the damage my mules have done to you. I am -as ready to pay you as to fight you; and afterwards, you shall give -me a glass of wine so that we may part good friends." - -The bargain concluded, I pocketed three crowns which he paid me for -myself and my brother-in-law; then I drew the wine and we sat down to -table. Three flagons of two pints each disappeared, for we were both -thirsty enough after the game we had been playing, and Maître Huriel -had a carcass which could hold as much as he liked to put into it. I -found him a good fellow, a fine talker, and easy to get on with; and -I, not wishing to seem behindhand in words or actions, filled his -glass every two minutes and swore friendship till the roof rang. - -Apparently, he felt no effects of the fight. I felt them badly -enough; but not wishing to show it, I proposed a song, and squeezed -one, with some difficulty, from my throat, which was still hot from -the grip of his hands. He only laughed. - -"Comrade," said he, "neither you nor yours know anything about -singing. Your tunes are as flat and your wind as stifled as your -ideas and your pleasures. You are a race of snails, always snuffing -the same wind and sucking the same bark; for you think the world ends -at those blue hills which limit your sky and which are the forests of -my native land. I tell you, Tiennet, that's where the world begins, -and you would have to walk pretty fast for many a night and day -before you got out of those grand woods, to which yours are but a -patch of pea-brush. And when you do get out of them you will find -mountains and more forests, such as you have never seen, of the tall -handsome fir-trees of Auvergne, unknown to your rich plains. But -what's the good of telling you about these places that you will never -see? You Berry folks are like stones which roll from one rut to -another, coming back to the right hand when the cart-wheels have -shoved them for a time to the left. You breathe a heavy atmosphere, -you love your ease, you have no curiosity; you cherish your money and -don't spend it, but also you don't know how to increase it; you have -neither nerve nor invention. I don't mean you personally, Tiennet; -you know how to fight (in defence of your own property), but you -don't know how to acquire property by industry as we muleteers do, -travelling from place to place, and taking, by fair means or foul, -what isn't given with a good will." - -"Oh! I agree to all that," I answered; "but don't you call yours a -brigand's trade? Come, friend Huriel, wouldn't it be better to be -less rich and more honest? for when it comes to old age will you -enjoy your ill-gotten property with a clear conscience?" - -"Ill-gotten! Look here, friend Tiennet," he said, laughing, "you who -have, I suppose, like all the small proprietors about here, a couple -of dozen sheep, two or three goats, and perhaps an old mare that -feeds on the common, do you go and offer reparation if, by accident, -your beasts bark your neighbor's trees and trample his young wheat? -Don't you call in your animals as fast as you can, without saying a -word about it; and if your neighbors take the law of you, don't you -curse them and the law too? And if you could, without danger, get -them off into a corner, wouldn't you make amends to yourself by -belaboring their shoulders? I tell you, it is either cowardice or -force that makes you respect the law, and it is because we avoid both -that you blame us, out of jealousy of the freedom that we have known -how to snatch." - -"I don't like your queer morality, Huriel; but what has all this got -to do with music? Why do you laugh at my song? Do you know a -better?" - -"I don't pretend to, Tiennet; but I tell you that music, liberty, -beautiful wild scenery, lively minds, and, if you choose, the art of -making money without getting stupefied,--all belong together like -fingers to the hand. I tell you that shouting is not singing; you -can bellow like deaf folks in your fields and taverns, but that's not -music. Music is on our side of those hills, and not on yours. Your -friend Joseph felt this, for his senses are more delicate than yours; -in fact, my little Tiennet, I should only lose my time in trying to -show you the difference. You are a Berrichon, as a swallow is a -swallow; and what you are to-day you will be fifty years hence. Your -head will whiten, but your brain will never be a day older." - -"Why, do you think me a fool?" I asked, rather mortified. - -"Fool? Not at all," he said. "Frank as to heart and shrewd as to -interest,--that's what you are and ever will be; but living in body -and lively in soul you never can be. And this is why, Tiennet," he -added, pointing to the furniture of the room. "See these big-bellied -beds where you sleep in feathers up to your eyes. You are spade and -pickaxe folk,--toilers in the sun,--but you must have your downy beds -to rest in. We forest fellows would soon be ill if we had to bury -ourselves alive in sheets and blankets. A log hut, a fern -bed,--that's our home and our furniture; even those of us who travel -constantly and don't mind paying the inn charges, can't stand a roof -over our heads; we sleep in the open air in the depth of winter, on -the pack-saddles of our mules, with the snow for a coverlet. Here -you have dresses and tables and chairs and fine china, ground glass, -good wine, a roasting-jack and soup-pots, and heaven knows what? You -think you must have all that to make you happy; you work your jaws -like cows that chew the cud; and so, when obliged to get upon your -feet and go back to work, you have a pain in your chest two or three -times a day. You are heavy, and no gayer at heart than your beasts -of burden. On Sundays you sit, with your elbows on the table, eating -more than your hunger tells you to, and drinking more than your -thirst requires; you think you are amusing yourself by storing up -indigestion and sighing after girls who are only bored with you -though they don't know why,--your partners in those dragging dances -in rooms and barns where you suffocate; turning your holidays and -festivals into a burden the more upon your spirits and stomachs. -Yes, Tiennet, that's the life you live. To indulge your ease you -increase your wants, and in order to live well you don't live at all." - -"And how do you live, you muleteers?" I said, rather shaken by his -remarks. "I don't speak now of your part of the country, of which I -know nothing, but of you, a muleteer, whom I see there before me, -drinking hard, with your elbows on the table, not sorry to find a -fire to light your pipe and a Christian to talk with. Are you made -different from other men? When you have led this hard life you boast -of for a score of years, won't you spend your money, which you have -amassed by depriving yourself of everything, in procuring a wife, a -house, a table, a good bed, good wine, and rest at last?" - -"What a lot of questions, Tiennet!" replied my guest. "You argue -fairly well for a Berrichon. I'll try to answer you. You see me -drink and talk because I am a man and like wine. Company and the -pleasures of the table please me even more than they do you, for the -very good reason that I don't need them and am not accustomed to -them. Always afoot, snatching a mouthful as I can, drinking at the -brooks, sleeping under the first oak I come to, of course it is a -feast for me to come across a good table and plenty of good wine; but -it is a feast, and not a necessity. To me, living alone for weeks at -a time, the society of a friend is a holiday; I say more to him in -one hour's talk than you would say in a day at a tavern. I enjoy -all, and more, than you fellows do, because I abuse nothing. If a -pretty girl or a forward woman comes after me in the woods to tell me -that she loves me, she knows I have no time to dangle after her like -a ninny and wait her pleasure; and I admit that in the matter of love -I prefer that which is soon found to that you have to search and wait -for. As to the future, Tiennet, I don't know if I shall ever have a -home and a family; but if I do, I shall be more grateful to the good -God than you are, and I shall enjoy its sweetness more, too. But I -swear that my helpmate shall not be one of your buxom, red-faced -women, let her be ever so rich. A man who loves liberty and true -happiness never marries for money. I shall never love any woman who -isn't slender and fair as a young birch,--one of those dainty, lively -darlings, who grow in the shady woods and sing better than your -nightingales." - -"A girl like Brulette," I thought to myself. "Luckily she isn't -here, for though she despises all of us, she might take a fancy to -this blackamoor, if only by way of oddity." - -The muleteer went on talking. - -"And so, Tiennet, I don't blame you for following the road that lies -before you; but mine goes farther and I like it best. I am glad to -know you, and if you ever want me send for me. I can't ask the same -of you, for I know that a dweller on the plains makes his will and -confesses to the priest before he travels a dozen leagues to see a -friend. But with us it isn't so; we fly like the swallows, and can -be met almost everywhere. Good-bye. Shake hands. If you get tired -of a peasant's life call the black crow from the Bourbonnais to get -you out of it; he'll remember that he played the bagpipe on your back -without anger, and surrendered to your bravery." - - - - -SEVENTH EVENING. - -Thereupon Huriel departed to find Joseph, and I went to bed; for if -up to that time I had concealed out of pride and forgotten out of -curiosity the ache in my bones, I was none the less bruised from head -to foot. Maître Huriel walked off gayly enough, apparently without -feeling anything, but as for me I was obliged to stay in bed for -nearly a week, spitting blood, with my stomach all upset. Joseph -came to see me and did not know what to make of it all; for I was shy -of telling him the truth, because it appeared that Huriel, in -speaking to him of me, hadn't mentioned how we came to an explanation. - -Great was the amazement of the neighborhood over the injury done to -the wheat-fields of Aulnières, and the mule-tracks along the roads -were something to wonder at. When I gave my brother-in-law the money -I had earned with my sore bones I told him the whole story secretly, -and as he was a good, prudent fellow, no one got wind of it. - -Joseph had left his bagpipe at Brulette's and could not make use of -it, partly because the haying left him no time, and also because -Brulette, fearing Carnat's spite, did her best to put him out of the -notion of playing. - -Joseph pretended to give in; but we soon saw that he was concocting -some other plan and thinking to hire himself out in another parish, -where he could slip his collar and do as he pleased. - -About midsummer he gave warning to his master to get another man in -his place; but it was impossible to get him to say where he was -going; and as he always replied, "I don't know," to any question he -didn't choose to answer, we began to think he would really let -himself be hired in the market-place, like the rest, without caring -where he went. - -As the Christians' Fair, so-called, is one of the great festivals of -the town, Brulette went there to dance, and so did I. We thought we -should meet Joseph and find out before the end of the day what master -and what region he had chosen. But he did not appear either morning -or evening on the market-place. No one saw him in the town. He had -left his bagpipe, but he had carried off, the night before, all the -articles he usually left in Père Brulet's house. - -That evening as we came home,--Brulette and I and all her train of -lovers with the other young folks of our parish,--she took my arm, -and walking on the grassy side of the road away from the others, she -said:-- - -"Do you know, Tiennet, that I am very anxious about José? His -mother, whom I saw just now in town, is full of trouble and can't -imagine where he has gone. A long time ago he told her he thought of -going away; but now she can't find out where, and the poor woman is -miserable." - -"And you, Brulette," I said, "it seems to me that you are not very -gay, and you haven't danced with the same spirit as usual." - -"That's true," she answered; "I have a great regard for the poor -lunatic fellow,--partly because I ought to have it, on account of his -mother, and then for old acquaintance' sake, and also because I care -for his fluting." - -"Fluting! does it really have such an effect upon you?" - -"There's nothing wrong in its effect, cousin. Why do you find fault -with it?" - -"I don't; but--" - -"Come, say what you mean," she exclaimed, laughing; "for you are -always chanting some sort of dirge about it, and I want to say amen -to you once for all, so that I may hear the last of it." - -"Well then, Brulette," I replied, "we won't say another word about -Joseph, but let us talk of ourselves. Why won't you see that I have -a great love for you? and can't you tell me that you will return it -one of these days?" - -"Oh! oh! are you talking seriously, this time?" - -"This time and all times. It has always been serious on my part, -even when shyness made me pretend to joke about it." - -"Then," said Brulette, quickening her step with me that the others -might not overhear us, "tell me how and why you love me; I'll answer -you afterwards." - -I saw she wanted compliments and flattery, but my tongue was not very -ready at that kind of thing. I did my best, however, and told her -that ever since I came into the world I had never thought of any one -but her; for she was the prettiest and sweetest of girls, and had -captivated me even before she was twelve years old. - -I told nothing that she did not know already; indeed she said so, and -owned she had seen it at the time we were catechised. But she added -laughing:-- - -"Now explain why you have not died of grief, for I have always put -you down; and tell me also why you are such a fine-grown, healthy -fellow, if love, as you declare, has withered you." - -"That's not talking seriously, as you promised me," I said. - -"Yes, it is," she replied; "I am serious, for I shall never choose -any one who can't swear that he has never in his life fancied, or -loved, or desired any girl but me." - -"Then it is all right, Brulette," I cried. "If that's so, I fear -nobody, not even that José of yours, who, I will allow, never looked -at a girl in his life, for his eyes can't even see you, or he -wouldn't go away and leave you." - -"Don't talk of Joseph; we agreed to let him alone," replied Brulette, -rather sharply, "and as you boast of such very keen eyes, please -confess that in spite of your love for me you have ogled more than -one pretty girl. Now, don't tell fibs, for I hate lying. What were -you saying so gayly to Sylvia only last year? And it isn't more than -a couple of months since you danced two Sundays running, under my -very nose, with that big Bonnina. Do you think I am blind, and that -nobody comes and tells me things?" - -I was rather mortified at first; but then, encouraged by the thought -that there was a spice of jealousy in Brulette, I answered, frankly,-- - -"What I was saying to such girls, cousin, is not proper to repeat to -a person I respect. A fellow may play the fool sometimes to amuse -himself, and the regret he feels for it afterwards only proves that -his heart and soul had nothing to do with it." - -Brulette colored; but she answered immediately,-- - -"Then, can you swear to me, Tiennet, that my character and my face -have never been lowered in your esteem by the prettiness or the -amiability of any other girl,--never, since you were born?" - -"I will swear to it," I said. - -"Swear, then," she said; "but give all your mind, and all your -religion to what you are going to say. Swear by your father and your -mother, by your conscience and the good God, that no girl ever seemed -to you as beautiful as I." - -I was about to swear, when, I am sure I don't know why, a -recollection made my tongue tremble. Perhaps I was very silly to -heed it; a shrewder fellow wouldn't have done so, but I couldn't lie -at the moment when a certain image came clearly before my mind. And -yet, I had totally forgotten it up to that very moment, and should -probably never have remembered it at all if it had not been for -Brulette's questions and adjurations. - -"You are in no hurry to swear," she said, "but I like that best; I -shall respect you for the truth and despise you for a lie." - -"Well then, Brulette," I answered, "as you want me to tell the exact -truth I will do so. In all my life I have seen two girls, two -children I might say, between whom I might have wavered as to -preference if any one had said to me (for I was a child myself at the -time), 'Here are two little darlings who may listen to you in after -days; choose which you will have for a wife.' I should doubtless -have answered, 'I choose my cousin,' because I knew how amiable you -were, and I knew nothing of the other, having only seen her for ten -minutes. And yet, when I came to think of it, it is possible I might -have felt some regret, not because her beauty was greater than yours, -for I don't think that possible, but because she gave me a good kiss -on both cheeks, which you never gave me in your life. So I conclude -that she is a girl who will some day give her heart generously, -whereas your discretion holds me and always has held me in fear and -trembling." - -"Where is she now?" asked Brulette, who seemed struck by what I said. -"What is her name?" - -She was much surprised to hear that I knew neither her name nor the -place she lived in, and that I called her in my memory "the girl of -the woods." I told her the little story of the cart that stuck in -the mud, and she asked me a variety of questions which I could not -answer, my recollections being much confused and the whole affair -being of less interest to me than Brulette supposed. She turned over -in her head every word she got out of me, and it almost seemed as if -she were questioning herself, with some vexation, to know if she were -pretty enough to be so exacting, and whether frankness or coyness was -the best way of pleasing the lads. - -Perhaps she was tempted for a moment to try coquetry and make me -forget the little vision that had come into my head, and which, for -more reasons than one, had displeased her; but after a few joking -words she answered seriously:-- - -"No, Tiennet, I won't blame you for having eyes to see a pretty girl -when the matter is as innocent and natural as you tell me; but -nevertheless it makes me think seriously, I hardly know why, about -myself. Cousin, I am a coquette. I feel the fever of it to the very -roots of my hair. I don't know that I shall ever be cured of it; -but, such as I am, I look upon love and marriage as the end of all my -comfort and pleasure. I am eighteen,--old enough to reflect. Well, -reflection comes to me like a blow on the stomach; whereas you have -been considering how to get yourself a happy home ever since you were -fifteen or sixteen, and your simple heart has given you an honest -answer. What you need is a wife as simple and honest as yourself, -without caprices, or pride, or folly: I should deceive you shamefully -if I told you that I am the right kind of girl for you. Whether from -caprice or distrust I don't know, but I have no inclination for any -of those I can choose from, and I can't say that I ever shall have. -The longer I live the more my freedom and my light-heartedness -satisfy me. Therefore be my friend, my comrade, my cousin; I will -love you just as I love Joseph, and better, if you are faithful to -our friendship; but don't think any more about marrying me. I know -that your relations would be opposed to it, and so am I, in spite of -myself, and with great regret for disappointing you. See, the others -are coming after us to break up this long talk. Promise me not to -sulk; choose a course; be my brother. If you say yes, we'll build -the midsummer bonfire when we get back to the village, and open the -dance together gayly." - -"Well, Brulette," I answered, sighing, "it shall be as you say. I'll -do my best not to love you, except as you wish, and in any case I -shall still be your cousin and good friend, as in duty bound." - -She took my hand and ran with me to the village market-place, -delighted to make her lovers scamper after her; there we found that -the old people had already piled up the fagots and straw of the -bonfire. Brulette, being the first to arrive, was called to set fire -to it, and soon the flames darted higher than the church porch. - -We had no music to dance by until Carnat's son, named François, came -along with his bagpipe; and he was very willing to play, for he, too, -like the rest, was putting his best foot foremost to please Brulette. - -So we opened the ball joyously, but after a minute or two everybody -cried out that the music tired their legs. François Carnat was new -at the business, and though he did his best, we found we couldn't get -along. He let us make fun of him, however, and kept on -playing,--being, as I suppose, rather glad of the practice, as it was -the first time he had played for people to dance. - -Nobody liked it, however, and when the young men found that dancing, -instead of resting their tired legs, only tired them more, they -talked of bidding good-night or spending the evening in the tavern. -Brulette and the other girls exclaimed against that, and told us we -were unmannerly lads and clodhoppers. This led to an argument, in -the midst of which, all of a sudden, a tall, handsome fellow -appeared, before it could be seen where he came from. - -"Hallo there, children!" he cried, in such a loud tone that it -drowned our racket and forced us to listen. "If you want to go on -dancing, you shall. Here's a bagpiper who will pipe for you as long -as you like, and won't ask anything for his trouble. Give me that," -he said to François Carnat, taking hold of his bagpipe, "and listen; -it may do you good, for though music is not my business, I know more -about it than you." - -Then, without waiting for François's consent, he blew out the bag and -began to play, amid cries of joy from the girls and with many thanks -from the lads. - -At his very first words I had recognized the Bourbonnais accent of -the muleteer, but I could hardly believe my eyes, so changed was he -for the better in looks. Instead of his coal-dusty smock-frock, his -old leathern gaiters, his battered hat, and his grimy face, he had a -new suit of clothes of fine white woollen stuff streaked with blue, -handsome linen, a straw hat with colored ribbons, his beard trimmed, -his face washed and as rosy as a peach. In short, he was the -handsomest man I ever saw; grand as an oak, well-made in every part -of him, clean-limbed and vigorous; with teeth that were bits of -ivory, eyes like the blades of a knife, and the affable air and -manners of a gentleman. He ogled all the girls, smiled at the -beauties, laughed with the plain ones, and was merry, good company -with every one, encouraging and inspiriting the dancers with eye and -foot and voice (for he did not blow much into his bagpipe, so clever -was he in managing his wind), and shouting between the puffs a dozen -drolleries and funny sayings, which put everybody in good humor for -the evening. - -Moreover, instead of doling out exact measure like an ordinary piper, -and stopping short when he had earned his two sous for every couple, -he went on bagpiping a full quarter of an hour, changing his tunes -you couldn't tell how, for they ran into one another without showing -the join; in short, it was the best reel music ever heard, and quite -unknown in our parts, but so enlivening and danceable that we all -seemed to be flying in the air instead of jigging about on the grass. - -I think he would have played and we should have danced all night -without getting tired, if it had not been that Père Carnat, hearing -the music from the wine-shop of La Biaude and wondering much that his -son could play so well, came proudly over to listen. But when he saw -his own bagpipe in the hands of a stranger, and François dancing away -without seeing the harm of yielding his place, he was furious; and -pushing the muleteer from behind, he made him jump from the stone on -which he was perched into the very middle of the dancers. - -Maître Huriel was a good deal surprised, and turning round he saw -Carnat, red with anger, ordering him to give up the instrument. - -You never knew Carnat the piper? He was getting in years even then, -but he was still as sturdy and vicious as an old devil. - -The muleteer began by showing fight, but noticing Carnat's white -hair, he returned the bagpipe gently, remarking, "You might have -spoken with more civility, old fellow; but if you don't like me to -take your place I give it up to you,--all the more willingly that I -should like to dance myself, if the young people will allow a -stranger in their company." - -"Yes, yes! come and dance! you have earned it," cried the whole -parish, who had turned out to hear the fine music and were charmed -with him,--old and young both. - -"Then," he said, taking Brulette's hand, for he had looked at her -more than at all the rest, "I ask, by way of payment, to be allowed -to dance with this pretty girl, even though she be engaged to some -one else." - -"She is engaged to me, Huriel," said I, "but as we are friends, I -yield my rights to you for this dance." - -"Thank you," answered he, shaking hands; then he whispered in my ear, -"I pretended not to know you; but if you see no harm to yourself so -much the better." - -"Don't say you are a muleteer and it is all right," I replied. - -While the folks were questioning about the stranger, another fuss -arose at the musician's stone. Père Carnat refused to play or to -allow his son to play. He even scolded François openly for letting -an unknown man supplant him; and the more people tried to settle the -matter by telling him the stranger had not taken any money, the -angrier he got. In fact when Père Maurice Viaud told him he was -jealous, and that the stranger could outdo him and all the other -neighboring players, he was beside himself with rage. - -He rushed into the midst of us and demanded of Huriel whether he had -a license to play the bagpipes,--which made every body laugh, and the -muleteer most of all. At last, being summoned by the old savage to -reply, Huriel said, "I don't know the customs in your part of the -country, old man, but I have travelled enough to know the laws, and I -know that nowhere in France do artists buy licenses." - -"Artists!" exclaimed Carnat, puzzled by a word which, like the rest -of us, he had never heard, "What does that mean? Are you talking -gibberish?" - -"Not at all," replied Huriel. "I will call them musicians if you -like; and I assert that I am free to play music wherever I please -without paying toll to the king of France." - -"Well, well, I know that," answered Carnat, "but what you don't know -yourself is that in our part of the country musicians pay a tax to an -association of public players, and receive a license after they have -been tried and initiated." - -"I know that too," said Huriel, "and I also know how much money is -paid into your pockets during those trials. I advise you not to try -that upon me. However, happily for you, I don't practise the -profession, and want nothing in your parts. I play gratis where I -please, and no one can prevent that, for the reason that I have got -my degree as master-piper, which very likely you have not, big as you -talk." - -Carnat quieted down a little at these words, and they said something -privately to each other that nobody heard, by which they discovered -that they belonged to the same corporation, if not to the same -company. The two Carnats, having no further right to object, as -every one present testified that Huriel had not played for money, -departed grumbling and saying spiteful things, which no one answered -so as to be sooner rid of them. - -As soon as they were gone we called on Marie Guillard, a lass with a -carrying voice, and made her sing, so that the stranger might have -the pleasure of dancing with us. - -He did not dance in our fashion, though he accommodated himself very -well to the time and figures. But his style was much the best, and -gave such free play to his body that he really looked handsomer and -taller than ever. Brulette watched him attentively and when he -kissed her, which is the fashion in our parts when each dance begins, -she grew quite red and confused, contrary to her usual indifferent -and easy way of taking a kiss. - -I argued from this that she had rather overdone her contempt for love -when talking with me about mine; but I took no notice, and I own that -in spite of it all I felt a good deal set up on my own account by the -fine manners and talents of the muleteer. - -When the dance was over he came up to me with Brulette on his arm, -saying,-- - -"It is your turn now, comrade; and I can't thank you better than by -returning the pretty dancer you lent me. She is a beauty like those -of my own land, and for her sake I do homage to the Berrichon girls. -But why end the evening so early? Is there no other bagpipe in the -village besides that of the old cross patch?" - -"Yes, there is," said Brulette quickly, letting out the secret she -wanted to keep in her eagerness for dancing; then, catching herself -up, she added, blushing, "That is to say, there are shepherd's pipes, -and herd-boys who can play them after a fashion." - -"Pipes indeed!" cried the muleteer; "if you happen to laugh they go -down your throat and make you cough! My mouth is too big for that -kind of instrument; and yet I want to make you dance, my pretty -Brulette; for that is your name, I have heard it," he said, drawing -us both aside; "and I know, too, that there's a fine bagpipe in your -house, which came from the Bourbonnais, and belongs to a certain -Joseph Picot, your friend from childhood, and your companion at the -first communion." - -"Oh! how did you know that?" cried Brulette, much astonished. "Do -you know our Joseph? Perhaps you can tell us where he has gone?" - -"Are you anxious about him?" said Huriel, looking narrowly at her. - -"So anxious that I will thank you with all my heart if you can give -me news of him." - -"Well, I'll give you some, my pretty one; but not until you bring me -his bagpipe, which he wants me to carry to him at the place where he -now is." - -"What!" cried Brulette, "is he very far away?" - -"So far that he has no idea of coming back." - -"Is that true? Won't he come back? has he gone for good and all? -That ends my wanting to laugh and dance any more to-night." - -"Ho, ho, pretty one!" cried Huriel; "so you are Joseph's sweetheart, -are you? He did not tell me that." - -"I am nobody's sweetheart," answered Brulette, drawing herself up. - -"Nevertheless," said the muleteer, "here is a token which he told me -to show you in case you hesitated to trust me with the bagpipe." - -"Where is it? what is it?" I exclaimed. - -"Look at my ear," said the muleteer, lifting a great lock of his -curly black hair and showing us a tiny silver heart hanging to a -large earring of fine gold, which pierced his ears after a fashion -among the middle classes of those days. - -I think that earring began to open Brulette's eyes, for she said to -Huriel, "You can't be what you seem to be, but I see plainly that you -are not a man to deceive poor folks. Besides, that token is really -mine, or rather it is Joseph's, for it is a present his mother made -to me on the day of our first communion, and I gave it to him the -next day as a remembrance, when he left home to go to service. So, -Tiennet," she said, turning to me, "go to my house and fetch the -bagpipe, and bring it over there, under the church porch, where it is -dark, so that people can't see where it comes from; for Père Carnat -is a wicked old man and might do my grandfather some harm if he -thought we were mixed up in the matter." - - - - -EIGHTH EVENING. - -I did as I was told, not pleased, however, at leaving Brulette alone -with the muleteer in a place already darkened by the coming night. -When I returned, bringing the bagpipe, taken apart and folded up -under my blouse, I found them still in the same corner arguing over -something with a good deal of vehemence. Seeing me, Brulette said: -"Tiennet, I take you to witness that I do not consent to give this -man that token which is hung on his earring. He declares he cannot -give it back because it belongs to Joseph, but he also says that -Joseph does not want it; it is a little thing, to be sure, not worth -ten sous, but I don't choose to give it to a stranger. I was -scarcely twelve years old when I gave it to José, and people must be -suspicious to see any meaning in that; but, as they will have it so, -it is only the more reason why I should refuse to give it to another." - -It seemed to me that Brulette was taking unnecessary pains to show -the muleteer she was not in love with Joseph, and also that Huriel, -on his side, was very glad to find her heart was free. However that -may be, he did not trouble himself to stop courting her before me. - -"My pretty one," he said, "you are too suspicious. I would not show -your gifts to any one, even if I had them to boast of; but I admit -here, before Tiennet, that you do not encourage me to love you. I -can't say that that will stop me; at any rate, you cannot hinder me -from remembering you, and I shall value this ten-sous token in my ear -above anything I ever coveted. Joseph is my friend, and I know he -loves you; but the lad's affection is so quiet he will never think of -asking for his token again. So, if it is one year or ten before we -meet again, you will see it just where it is; that is, unless the ear -is gone." - -So saying, he took Brulette's hand and kissed it, and then he set to -work to put the bagpipe together and fill it. - -"What are you doing?" cried Brulette. "I told you that I had no -heart to amuse myself, now that Joseph has left his mother and -friends for such a time, and as for you, you'll be in danger of a -fight if the other pipers should come this way and find you playing." - -"Bah!" said Huriel, "we'll see about that; don't be troubled for -me,--you must dance, Brulette, or I shall think you are really in -love with an ungrateful fellow who has left you." - -Whether it was that Brulette was too proud to let him think that, or -that the dancing mania was too strong for her, it is certain that the -bagpipe was no sooner fitted and filled and beginning to sound than -she held out no longer and let me carry her off for the first reel. - -You would hardly believe, friends, what cries of satisfaction and -delight filled the marketplace at the resounding noise of that -bagpipe and the return of the muleteer, for every one thought him -gone. The dancing had flagged and the company were about to disperse -when he made his appearance once more on the piper's stone. -Instantly such a hubbub arose! no longer four to eight couples were -dancing, but sixteen to thirty-two, joining hands, skipping, -shouting, laughing, so that the good God himself couldn't have got a -word in edgewise. And presently every one in the market-place, old -and young, children who couldn't yet use their legs, grandfathers -tottering on theirs, old women jigging in the style of their youth, -awkward folk who couldn't get the time or the tune,--they all set to -spinning; and, indeed, it is a wonder the clock of the parish church -didn't spin too. Fancy! the finest music ever heard in our parts and -costing nothing! It seemed as if the devil had a finger in it, for -the piper never asked to rest, and tired out everybody except -himself. "I'm determined to be the last," he cried when they advised -him to rest. "The whole parish shall give in before me; I intend to -keep it up till sunrise, and you shall all cry me mercy!" So on we -went, he piping and we twirling like mad. - -Mère Biaude, who kept the tavern, seeing there was profit in it, -brought out tables and benches and something to eat and drink; as to -the latter article, she couldn't furnish enough for so many stomachs -hungry by dancing, so folks living near brought out for their friends -and acquaintance the victuals they had laid in for the week. One -brought cheese, another a bag of nuts, another the quarter of a kid, -or a sucking pig, all of which were roasted and broiled at a fire -hastily built in the market-place. It was like a wedding to which -every one flocked. The children were not sent to bed, for no one had -time to think of them, and they fell asleep, like a heap of lambs, on -the piles of lumber which always lay about the market-place, to the -wild racket of the dance and the bagpipe, which never stopped except -it was to let the piper drink a jorum of the best wine. - -The more he drank the gayer he was and the better he played. At last -hunger seized the sturdiest, and Huriel was forced to stop for lack -of dancers. So, having won his wager to bury us all, he consented to -go to supper. Everybody invited him and quarrelled for the honor and -pleasure of feasting him; but seeing that Brulette was coming to my -table, he accepted my invitation and sat down beside her, boiling -over with wit and good humor. He ate fast and well, but instead of -getting torpid from digestion he was the first to clink his glass for -a song; and although he had blown his pipe like a whirlwind for six -hours at a stretch, his voice was as fresh and as true as if he had -done nothing. The others tried to hold their own, but even our -renowned singers soon gave it up for the pleasure of listening to -him; his songs were far beyond theirs, as much for the tunes as the -words; indeed, we had great difficulty in catching the chorus, for -there was nothing in his throat that wasn't new to our ears, and of a -quality, I must own, above our knowledge. - -People left their tables to listen to him, and just as day was -beginning to dawn through the leaves a crowd of people were standing -round him, more bewitched and attentive than at the finest sermon. - -At that moment he rose, jumped on his bench, and waved his empty -glass to the first ray of sunlight that shone above his head, saying, -in a manner that made us all tremble without knowing why or -wherefore:-- - -"Friends, see the torch of the good God! Put out your little candles -and bow to the clearest and brightest light that shines on the world. -And now," he said, sitting down again and setting his glass bottom up -on the table, "we have talked enough and sung enough for one night. -What are you about, verger? Go and ring the Angelus, that we may see -who signs the cross like a Christian; and that will show which of us -have enjoyed ourselves decently, and which have degraded our pleasure -like fools. After we have rendered thanks to God I must depart, my -friends, thanking you for this fine fête and all your signs of -confidence. I owed you a little reparation for some damage I did a -few of you lately without intending it. Guess it if you can,--I did -not come here to confess it; but I think I have done my best to amuse -you; and as pleasure, to my thinking, is worth more than profit, I -feel that I am quits with you. Hush!" he added, as they began to -question him, "hear the Angelus!" - -He knelt down, which led every one to do likewise, and do it, too, -with soberness of manner, for the man seemed to have some -extraordinary power over his fellows. - -When the prayer ended we looked about for him, but he was gone,--and -so completely that there were people who rubbed their eyes, fancying -that they had dreamed this night of gayety and merriment. - - - - -NINTH EVENING. - -Brulette was trembling all over, and when I asked her what the matter -was and what she was thinking of, she answered, rubbing her cheek -with the back of her hand, "That man is pleasant, Tiennet, but he is -very bold." - -As I was rather more heated than usual, I found courage to say,-- - -"If the lips of a stranger offend your skin, perhaps those of a -friend can remove the stain." - -But she pushed me away, saying,-- - -"He has gone, and it is wisest to forget those who go." - -"Even poor José?" - -"He! oh, that's different," she answered. - -"Why different? You don't answer me. Oh, Brulette, you care for--" - -"For whom?" she said, quickly. "What is his name? Out with it, as -you know it!" - -"It is," I said, laughing, "the black man for whose sake José has -given himself over to the devil,--that man who frightened you one -night last spring when you were at my house." - -"No, no; nonsense! you are joking. Tell me his name, his business, -and where he comes from." - -"No, I shall not, Brulette. You say we ought to forget the absent, -and I would rather you didn't change your mind." - -The whole parish was surprised when it was known that the piper had -departed before they had thought of discovering who he was. To be -sure, a few had questioned him, but he gave them contradictory -answers. To one he said he was a Marchois and was named thus and so; -to another he gave a different name, and no one could make out the -truth. I gave them still another name to throw them off the -scent,--not that Huriel the wheat-spoiler need fear any one after -Huriel the piper had turned everybody's head, but simply to amuse -myself and to tease Brulette. Then, when I was asked where I had -known him, I answered, laughing, that I didn't know him at all,--that -he had taken it into his head on arriving to accost me as a friend, -and that I had answered him in kind by way of a joke. - -Brulette, however, sifted me to the bottom, and I was forced to tell -her what I knew; and though it was not much, she was sorry she had -heard it, for like most country folks, she had a great prejudice -against strangers, and muleteers in particular. - -I thought this repugnance would soon make her forget Huriel; and if -she ever thought of him she never showed it, but continued to lead -the gay life she liked so well, declaring that she meant to be as -faithful a wife as she was thoughtless a girl, and therefore she -should take her time and study her suitors; and to me she kept -repeating that she wanted my faithful, quiet friendship, without any -thought of marriage. - -As my nature never turned to gloominess, I made no complaint; in -fact, like Brulette, I had a leaning to liberty, and I used mine like -other young fellows, taking pleasure where I found it, without the -yoke. But the excitement once over, I always came back to my -beautiful cousin for gentle, virtuous, and lively companionship, -which I couldn't afford to lose by sulking. She had more sense and -wit than all the women and girls of the neighborhood put together. -And her home was so pleasant,--always neat and well-managed, never -pinched for means, and filled, during the winter evenings and on all -the holidays of the year, with the nicest young folks of the parish. -The girls liked to follow in my cousin's train, where there was -always a rush of young fellows to choose from, and where they could -pick up, now and then, a husband of their own. In fact, Brulette -took advantage of the respect they all felt for her to make the lads -think of the lasses who wanted their attentions; for she was generous -with her lovers,--like people rich in other ways who know it is their -duty to give away. - -Grandfather Brulet loved his young companion, and amused her with his -old-fashioned songs and the many fine tales he told her. Sometimes -Mariton would drop in for a moment just to talk of her boy. She was -a great woman for gossip, still fresh in appearance, and always ready -to show the young girls how to make their clothes,--being well -dressed herself to please her master Benoit, who thought her handsome -face and finery a good advertisement of his house. - -It was well-nigh a year that these amusements had been going on -without other news of Joseph than by two letters, in which he told -his mother he was well in health and was earning his living in the -Bourbonnais. He did not give the name of the place, and the two -letters were postmarked from different towns. Indeed, the second -letter was none so easy to make out, though our curate was very -clever at reading writing; but it appeared that Joseph was getting -himself educated, and had tried, for the first time, to write -himself. At last a third letter came, addressed to Brulette, which -Monsieur le curé read off quite fluently, declaring that the -sentences were very well turned. This letter stated that Joseph had -been ill, and a friend was writing for him; it was nothing more than -a spring fever, and his family were not to be uneasy about him. The -letter went on to say that he was living with friends who were in the -habit of travelling about; that he was then starting with them for -the district of Chambérat, from which they would write again if he -grew worse in spite of the great care they were taking of him. - -"Good gracious!" cried Brulette, when the curate had read her all -that was in the letter, "I'm afraid he is going to make himself a -muleteer. I dare not tell his mother about either his illness or the -trade he is taking up. Poor soul! she has troubles enough without -that." - -Then, glancing at the letter, she asked what the signature meant. -Monsieur le curé, who had paid no attention to it, put on his glasses -and soon began to laugh, declaring that he had never seen anything -like it, and all he could make out, in place of a name, was the -sketch of an ear and an earring with a sort of a heart stuck through -it. - -"Probably," said he, "it is the emblem of some fraternity. All -guilds have their badges, and other people can't understand them." - -But Brulette understood well enough; she seemed a little worried and -carried off the letter, to examine it, I don't doubt, with a less -indifferent eye than she pretended; for she took it into her head to -learn to read, and very secretly she did so, by the help of a former -lady's-maid in a noble family, who often came to gossip in a sociable -house like my cousin's. It didn't take long for such a clever head -as Brulette's to learn all she wanted, and one fine day I was amazed -to find she could write songs and hymns as prettily turned as -anybody's. I could not help asking her if she had learned these fine -things above her station so as to correspond with Joseph, or the -handsome muleteer. - -"As if I cared for a common fellow with earrings!" she cried, -laughing. "Do you think I am such an ill-behaved girl as to write to -a perfect stranger? But if Joseph comes back educated he will have -done a very good thing to get rid of his stupidity; and as for me, I -shall not be sorry to be a little less of a goose than I was." - -"Brulette, Brulette!" I retorted, "you are setting your thoughts -outside your own country and your friends. Take care, harm will come -of it! I'm not a bit less uneasy about you here than I am about -Joseph down there." - -"You can be easy about me, Tiennet; my head is cool, no matter what -people say of me. As for our poor boy, I am troubled enough; it will -soon be six months since we heard from him, and that fine muleteer -who promised to send us news has never once thought of it. Mariton -is miserable at Joseph's neglect of her; for she has never known of -his illness, and perhaps he is dead without our suspecting it." - -I assured her that in that case we should certainly have been -informed of the fact, and that no news was always good news in such -cases. - -"You may say what you like," she replied; "I dreamed, two nights ago, -that the muleteer arrived here, bringing his bagpipe and the news -that José was dead. Ever since I dreamed that I have been sad at -heart, and I am sorry I have let so much time go by without thinking -of the poor lad or trying to write to him. But how could I have sent -my letter?--for I don't even know where he is." - -So saying, Brulette, who was sitting near a window and chanced to -look out, gave a loud cry and turned white with fear. I looked out -too, and saw Huriel, black with charcoal dust on his face and -clothes, just as I saw him the first time. He came towards us, while -the children ran out of his way, screaming, "The devil! the devil!" -and the dogs yelped at him. - -Struck with what Brulette had just said, and wishing to spare her the -pain of hearing ill-news suddenly, I ran to meet the muleteer, and my -first words were,-- - -"Is he dead?" - -"Who? Joseph?" he replied. "No, thank God. But how did you know he -was still ill?" - -"Is he in danger?" - -"Yes and no. But what I have to say is for Brulette. Is that her -house? Take me to her." - -"Yes, yes, come!" I cried; and rushing ahead I told my cousin to be -comforted, for the news was not nearly so bad as she expected. - -She called her grandfather, who was at work in the next room, -intending to receive the muleteer in a proper manner; but when she -saw him so different from the idea she had kept of him, so -unrecognizable in face and clothes, she lost her self-possession and -turned away sadly and in much confusion. - -Huriel perceived it, for he smiled, and lifting his black hair as if -by accident, showed Brulette her token which was still in his ear. - -"It is really I," he said, "and no one else. I have come from my own -parts expressly to tell you about a friend who, thanks to God, is -neither dead nor dying, but of whom I must speak to you at some -length. Have you leisure to hear me now?" - -"That we have," said Père Brulet. "Sit down, my man, and take -something to eat." - -"I want nothing," said Huriel, seating himself. "I will wait till -your own meal-time. But, first of all, I ought to make myself known -to those I am now speaking to." - - - - -TENTH EVENING. - -"Say on," said my uncle, "we are listening." - -Then said the muleteer: "My name is Jean Huriel, muleteer by trade, -son of Sebastien Huriel, otherwise called Bastien, the Head-Woodsman, -a renowned bagpiper, and considered the best worker in the forests of -the Bourbonnais. Those are my names and claims, to which I can bring -honorable proof. I know that to win your confidence I ought to -present myself in the guise in which I have the right to appear; but -men of my calling have a custom--" - -"I know your custom, my lad," said Père Brulet, who watched him -attentively. "It is good or bad, according as you yourselves are -good or bad. I have not lived till now without knowing what the -muleteers are; I have travelled outside our own borders, and I know -your customs and behavior. They say your fraternity are given to -evil deeds,--they are known to abduct girls, attack Christian people, -and even kill them in pretended quarrels so as to get their money." - -"Well," said Huriel, laughing, "I think that is an exaggerated -account of us. The things you speak of are long passed away; you -would not hear of such deeds now-a-days. But the fear your people -had of us was so great that for years the muleteers did not dare to -leave the woods unless in troops and with great precautions. The -proof that they have mended their ways and are no longer to be feared -is that they no longer fear for themselves; so here I am, alone in -the midst of you." - -"Yes," said Père Brulet, who was not easy to convince; "but your face -is blackened all the same. You have sworn to follow the rule of your -fraternity, which is to travel thus disguised through the districts -where you are still distrusted, so that if folks see you do an evil -deed they can't say afterwards, when they meet your companions, 'That -is he,' or, 'That is not he.' You consider yourselves all -responsible for one another. This has its good side, for it makes -you faithful friends, and each man has the help and good-will of all; -but, nevertheless, it leaves the rest of us in doubt as to the -character of your morality, and I shall not deny that if a -muleteer--no matter how good a fellow he may be nor how much money he -may have--comes here to ask for my alliance, I'll cheerfully offer -him bite and sup, but I'll not invite him to marry my daughter." - -"And I," said the muleteer, his eyes flashing as he boldly looked at -Brulette, who pretended to be thinking of something else, "had no -such idea in coming here. You are not called upon to refuse me, Père -Brulet, for you don't know whether I am married or single. I have -said nothing about it." - -Brulette dropped her eyes, and I could not tell whether she was -pleased or displeased. Then she recovered spirit, and said to the -muleteer: "This has nothing to do with the matter--which is José. -You have brought news of him; I am distressed at heart about his -health. This is my grandfather, who brought him up and takes an -interest in him. Please talk of Joseph instead of other things." - -Huriel looked steadily at Brulette, seeming to struggle with a -momentary vexation and to gather himself together before he spoke; -then he said:-- - -"Joseph is ill,--so ill that I resolved to come and say to the woman -who is the cause of it, 'Do you wish to cure him, and are you able to -do so?'" - -"What are you talking about?" said my uncle, pricking up his ears, -which were beginning to be a little hard of hearing. "How can my -daughter cure the lad?" - -"If I spoke of myself before I spoke of him," continued Huriel, "it -was because I have delicate things to say of him which you would -scarcely allow a total stranger to mention. Now, if you think me a -decent man, allow me to speak my mind freely and tell you all I know." - -"Explain everything," said Brulette, eagerly. "Don't be afraid; I -shall not care for any idea people take of me." - -"I have none but good ideas of you, Brulette," replied the muleteer. -"It is not your fault if Joseph loves you; and if you return his love -in your secret heart no one can blame you. We may envy Joseph in -that case, but not betray him or do anything to trouble you. Let me -tell you how things have gone between him and me since the day we -first made friends, when I persuaded him to come over to our parts -and learn the music he was so crazy about." - -"I don't think you did him much good by that advice," observed my -uncle. "It is my opinion he could have learned it just as well here, -without grieving and distressing his family." - -"He told me," replied Huriel, "and I have since found it true, that -the other bagpipers would not allow it. Besides, I owed him the -truth, because he trusted me at first sight. Music is a wild flower -which does not bloom in your parts. It loves our heather; but I -can't tell you why. In our woods and dells it lives and thrives and -lives again, like the flowers of spring; there it sows and harvests -ideas for lands that are barren of them. The best things your pipers -give you come from there; but as your players are lazy and niggardly, -and you are satisfied to hear the same things over and over again, -they only come to us once in their lives, and live on what they learn -then for the rest of their days. At this very time they are teaching -pupils to strum a corruption of our old music, and they never think -of consulting at the fountainhead to find how such airs should be -played. So when a well-intentioned young fellow like your José (as I -said to him) comes to drink at the spring, he is sure to return so -fresh and full that the other players could not stand up against him. -That is why José agreed to go over into the Bourbonnais the following -midsummer, where he could have enough work in the woods to support -him, and lessons from our best master. I must tell you that the -finest bagpipers are in Upper Bourbonnais, among the pine forests, -over where the Sioule comes down from the Dôme mountains; and that my -father, born in the village of Huriel, from which he takes his name, -has spent his life among these players, and keeps his wind in good -order and his art well-trained. He is a man who does not like to -work two years running in the same place, and the older he gets the -livelier and more fond of change he is. Last year he was in the -forest of Troncay; since then he has been in that of Éspinasse. Just -now he is in the woods of Alleu, where Joseph has followed him -faithfully, chopping and felling and bagpiping by his side,--for he -loves him like a son and boasts that the love is returned. The lad -has been as happy as a lover can be when parted from his mistress. -But life is not as easy and comfortable with us as with you; and -though my father, taught by experience, tried to prevent Joseph (who -was in a hurry to succeed) from straining his lungs on our -pipes,--which are, as you may have noticed, differently made from -yours, and very fatiguing to the chest until you know how to use -them,--the poor fellow took a fever and began to spit blood. My -father, who understood the disease and knew how to manage it, took -away his bagpipe and ordered him to rest; but then, though his bodily -health improved, he took sick in another way. He ceased to cough and -spit blood, but he fell into a state of depression and weakness which -made them fear for his life. So that when I got home from a trip -eight days ago I found him so pallid that I scarcely knew him, and so -weak on his legs that he could not stand. When I questioned him he -burst into tears and said, very sadly: 'Huriel, I know I shall die in -the depths of these woods, far from my own country, from my mother -and my friends, unloved by her to whom I long to show the art I have -learned. This dreadful dulness eats into my mind, impatience withers -my heart. I wish your father would give me back my bagpipe and let -me die of it. I could draw my last breath in sending from afar to -her I love the sweetness my lips can never utter to her, dreaming for -a moment that I was at her side. No doubt Père Bastien meant kindly; -I know I was killing myself with eagerness. But what do I gain by -dying more slowly? I must renounce life any way. On the one hand, I -can't chop wood and earn my bread, and must live at your expense; on -the other, my chest is too weak to pipe. No, it is all over with me. -I shall never be anything; I must die without the joy of remembering -a single day of love and happiness.'" - -"Don't cry, Brulette," continued the muleteer, taking the hand with -which she wiped her tears; "all is not hopeless. Listen to me. -Seeing the poor lad's misery, I went after a good doctor, who -examined him, and then told us that it was more depression than -illness, and he would answer for his cure if Joseph would give up -music and wood-cutting for another month. As to that last matter, it -was quite convenient, for my father, and I too, thank God, are not -badly off, and it is no great merit to us to take care of a friend -who can't work. But the doctor was wrong; the same causes remain, -and José is no better. He did not want me to let you know his state, -but I made him agree to it and I even tried to bring him here with -me. I put him carefully on one of my mules, but at the end of a few -miles he became so weak I was obliged to take him back to my father, -who thereupon said to me: 'Do you go to the lad's people and bring -back either his mother or his sweetheart. He is homesick, that's -all, and if he sees one or the other of them he will recover health -and courage enough to finish his apprenticeship here; or else he must -go home with them.' That being said before Joseph, he was much -excited. 'My mother!' he cried, like a child; 'my poor mother, make -her come quickly!' Then checking himself, he added, 'No, no; I don't -want her to see me die; her grief would kill me all the faster.' -'How about Brulette?' I whispered to him. 'Oh! Brulette would not -come,' he answered. 'Brulette is good; but she must have chosen a -lover by this time who would not let her come and comfort me.' Then -I made José swear he would have patience till I returned, and I came -off. Père Brulet, decide what ought to be done; and you, Brulette, -consult your heart." - -"Maître Huriel," said Brulette, rising, "I will go, though I am not -Joseph's sweetheart, as you called me, and nothing obliges me to go -to him except that his mother fed me with her milk and carried me in -her arms. Why do you think the young man is in love with me? Just -as true as that my grandfather is sitting there, he never said the -first word of it to me." - -"Then he did tell me truth!" cried Huriel, as if delighted with what -he heard; but catching himself hastily up, he added, "It is none the -less true that he may die of it, and all the more because he has no -hope; I must therefore plead his cause and explain his feelings." - -"Are you deputed to do so?" asked Brulette, haughtily and as if -annoyed with the muleteer. - -"Deputed or not, I must do it," said Huriel; "I must clear my -conscience of it,--for his sake who told me his troubles and asked my -help. This is what he said to me: 'I always longed to give myself up -to music, as much because I loved it as for love of my dear Brulette. -She considers me as a brother; she has always shown me the greatest -kindness and true pity; but for all that she received everybody's -attentions except mine, and I can't blame her. The girl loves finery -and all that sets her off. She has a right to be coquettish and -exacting. My heart aches for it, but if she gives her affections to -those who are worth more than I the fault is mine for being worth so -little. Such as I am--unable to dig hard, or speak soft, or dance, -or jest, or even sing, feeling ashamed of myself and my condition, I -deserve that she should think me the lowest of those who aspire to -her hand. Well, don't you see that this grief will kill me if it -lasts? and I want to find a cure for it. I feel within me something -which declares that I can make better music than any one else in our -parts; if I could only succeed I should be no longer a mere nothing. -I should become even more than others; and as that girl has much -taste and a gift for singing, she would understand, out of her own -self, what I was worth; moreover, her pride would be flattered at the -praises I should receive.'" - -"You speak," said Brulette, smiling, "as if I had an understanding -with him; whereas he has never said a word of all this to me. His -pride has always been up in arms, and I see that it is through pride -that he expects to influence me. However, as his illness puts him -really in danger of dying, I will, in order to give him courage, do -everything that belongs to the sort of friendship I feel for him. I -will go to see him with Mariton, provided my grandfather advises and -is willing I should do so." - -"I don't think it possible that Mariton can go with you," said Père -Brulet, "for reasons which I know and you will soon know, my -daughter. I can only tell you just now that she cannot leave her -master, because of some trouble in his affairs. Besides, if Joseph's -illness can really be cured it is better not to worry and upset the -poor woman. I will go with you, because I have great confidence that -you, who have always managed Joseph for the best, will have influence -enough over his mind to bring him back to reason and give him -courage. I know what you think of him, and it is what I think too; -well, if we find him in a desperate condition we can write to his -mother at once to come and close his eyes." - -"If you will allow me in your company," said Huriel. "I will guide -you as the swallow flies to where Joseph is. I can even take you in -a single day if you are not afraid of bad roads." - -"We will talk about that at table," replied my uncle. "As for your -company, I wish for it and claim it; for you have spoken well, and I -know something of the family of honest folks to whom you belong." - -"Do you know my father?" cried Huriel. "When he heard us speaking of -Brulette he told us, Joseph and me, that his father had had an early -friend named Brulet." - -"It was I, myself," said my uncle. "I cut wood for a long time, -thirty years ago, in the Saint-Amand region with your grandfather, -and I knew your father when a boy; he worked with us and played the -bagpipes wonderfully well, even then. He was a fine lad, and years -can't trouble him much yet. When you named yourself just now I did -not wish to interrupt you, and if I twitted you a little about your -customs, it was only to draw you out. Now, sit down, and don't spare -the food at your service." - -During supper Huriel showed as much good sense in his talk and -pleasantness in his gravity as he had wit and liveliness on the night -of his first appearance at midsummer. Brulette listened attentively -and seemed to get accustomed to his blackened face; but when the -journey was talked of and the method of making it was mentioned, she -grew uneasy about her grandfather, fearing the fatigue and the -upsetting of his habits; so, as Huriel could not deny that the -journey would be painful to a man of his years, I offered to -accompany Brulette in place of my uncle. - -"That's the very thing," said Huriel. "If we are only three we can -take the cross-cut, and by starting to-morrow morning we can get -there to-morrow night. I have a sister, a very steady, good girl, -who will take Brulette into her own hut; for I must not conceal from -you that where we are now living you will find neither houses nor -places to sleep in such as you are accustomed to here." - -"It is true," replied my uncle, "that I am too old to sleep on the -heather; and though I am not very indulgent to my body, if I happened -to fall ill over there, I should be a great trouble to you, my dear -children. So, if Tiennet will go, I know him well enough to trust -his cousin to him. I shall rely on his not leaving her a foot's -length in any circumstances where there may be danger for a young -girl; and I rely on you, too, Huriel, not to expose her to any risks -on the way." - -I was mightily pleased with this plan, which gave me the pleasure of -escorting Brulette and the honor of defending her in case of need. -We parted early and met again before daylight at the door of the -house,--Brulette all ready and holding a little bundle in her hand, -Huriel leading his _clairin_ and three mules, one of which was -saddled with a very soft, clean pad, on which he seated Brulette. -Then he himself mounted the horse and I another mule, which seemed -much surprised to find me on his back. The other, laden with new -hampers, followed of her own accord, while Satan brought up the rear. -Nobody was yet afoot in the village; for which I was sorry, for I -would have liked to make Brulette's other lovers jealous in return -for the rage they had often put me in. But Huriel seemed anxious to -get away without being noticed and criticised under Brulette's nose -for his blackened face. - -We had not gone far before he made me feel that I should not be -allowed to manage everything as I liked. We reached the woods of -Maritet at noon, which was nearly half-way. There was a little -inclosure near by called "La Ronde," where I should have liked to go -and get a good breakfast. But Huriel laughed at what he called my -love for a knife and fork, and as Brulette, who was determined to -think everything amusing, agreed with him, he made us dismount in a -narrow ravine, through which ran a tiny river called "La -Portefeuille."--so-called because (at that season at least) the water -was covered with the green trays of the water-lily and shaded with -the leafage of the woods which came to the very banks of the river on -either side. Huriel let the animals loose among the reeds, selected -a pretty spot covered with wild flowers, opened the hampers, uncorked -the flask, and served as good a lunch as we could have had at -home,--all so neatly done and with such consideration for Brulette -that she could not help showing pleasure. When she saw that before -touching the bread to cut it, and before removing the white napkin -which wrapped the provisions, he carefully washed his hands, plunging -his arms above the elbows in the river, she smiled and said to him, -with her gracious little air of command: "While you are about it, -could not you also wash your face, so that we might see if you were -really the handsome bagpiper of the midsummer dance?" - -"No, my pretty one," he replied, "you must get used to the reverse of -the coin. I make no claims upon your heart but those of friendship -and esteem, though I am only a heathen of a muleteer. Consequently I -need not try to please you by my face, and it will not be for your -sake that I wash it." - -She was mortified, but she would not give up the point. - -"You ought not to frighten your friends," she said; "and the fear of -you, looking as you now do, takes away my appetite." - -"In that case I'll go and eat apart, so as not to upset you." - -He did as he said, and sat down upon a little rock which jutted into -the water behind the place where we were sitting, and ate his food -alone, while I enjoyed the pleasure of serving Brulette. - -At first she laughed, thinking she had provoked him, and taking -pleasure in it, like all coquettes; but when she got tired of the -game and wanted to recall him, and did her best to excite him by -words, he held firm, and every time she turned her head toward him he -turned his back on her, while answering all her nonsense very -cleverly and without the least vexation, which, to her, was perhaps -the very worst of the thing. So presently she began to feel sorry, -and, after a rather sharp speech which he launched about haughty -minxes, and which she fancied was meant for her, two tears rolled -from her eyes though she tried hard to keep them back in my presence. -Huriel did not see them, and I took very good care not to show her -that I did. - -When we had eaten all we wanted, Huriel packed up the remainder of -the provisions, saying,-- - -"If you are tired, children, you can take a nap, for the animals want -a rest in the heat of the day; that's the time when the flies torment -them, and in this copse they can rub and shake themselves as much as -they please. Tiennet, I rely on you to keep good guard over our -princess. As for me, I am going a little way into the forest, to see -how the works of God are going on." - -Then with a light step, and no more heed to the heat than if we were -in the month of April, instead of the middle of July, he sprang up -the slope, and was lost to sight among the tall trees. - - - - -ELEVENTH EVENING. - -Brulette did her best not to let me see the annoyance she felt at his -departure; but having no heart for talk, she pretended to go to sleep -on the fine sand of the river-bank, her head upon the panniers which -were taken from the mule to rest him, and her face protected from the -flies by a white handkerchief. I don't know whether she slept; I -spoke to her two or three times without getting any answer, and as -she had let me lay my cheek on a corner of her apron, I kept quiet -too, but without sleeping at first, for I felt a little agitated by -her close neighborhood. - -However, weariness soon overtook me, and I lost consciousness for a -short time; when I woke I heard voices, and found that the muleteer -had returned and was talking with Brulette. I did not dare move the -apron that I might hear more distinctly, but I held it tightly in my -fingers so that the girl could not have got away even had she wished -to. - -"I certainly have the right," Huriel was saying, "to ask you what -course you mean to pursue with that poor lad. I am his friend more -than I can claim to be yours, and I should blame myself for bringing -you, if you mean to deceive him." - -"Who talks of deceiving him?" cried Brulette. "Why do you criticise -my intentions without knowing them?" - -"I don't criticise, Brulette; I question you because I like Joseph -very much, and I esteem you enough to believe you will deal frankly -with him." - -"That is my affair, Maître Huriel; you are not the judge of my -feelings, and I am not obliged to explain them. I don't ask you, for -instance, if you are faithful to your wife." - -"My wife!" exclaimed Huriel, as if astonished. - -"Why, yes," returned Brulette, "are not you married?" - -"Did I say I was?" - -"I thought you said so at our house last night, when my grandfather, -thinking you came to talk of marriage, made haste to refuse you." - -"I said nothing at all, Brulette, except that I was not seeking -marriage. Before obtaining the person, one must win the heart, and I -have no claim to yours." - -"At any rate," said Brulette, "I see you are more reasonable and less -bold than you were last year." - -"Oh!" returned Huriel, "If I said a few rather warm words to you at -the village dance, it was because they popped into my head at the -sight of you; but time has passed, and you ought to forget the -affront." - -"Who said I recollected it?" demanded Brulette. "Have I reproached -you?" - -"You blame me in your heart; or at any rate you bear the thing in -mind, for you are not willing to speak frankly to me about Joseph." - -"I thought," said Brulette, whose voice showed signs of impatience, -"that I had fully explained myself on that point night before last. -But how do the two things affect each other? The more I forget you, -the less I should wish to explain to you my feelings for any man, no -matter who." - -"But the fact is, pretty one," said the muleteer, who seemed not to -give in to any of Brulette's little ways, "You spoke about the past -last night, and said nothing about the future; and I don't yet know -what you mean to say to Joseph to reconcile him with life. Why do -you object to tell me frankly?" - -"What is it to you, I should like to know? If you are married, or -merely pledged, you ought not to be looking into a girl's heart." - -"Brulette, you are trying to make me say that I am free to court you, -and yet you won't tell me anything about your own position; I am not -to know whether you mean some day to favor Joseph, or whether you are -pledged to some one else,--perhaps that tall fellow who is lying -asleep on your apron." - -"You are too inquisitive!" exclaimed Brulette, rising and hastily -twitching away the apron, which I was forced to let go, pretending to -wake at that moment. - -"Come, let us start," said Huriel, who seemed not to care for -Brulette's ill-humor, but continued to smile with his white teeth and -his large eyes,--the only parts of his face which were not in -mourning. - -We continued our route to the Bourbonnais. The sun was hidden behind -a heavy cloud and thunder was rumbling in the distance. - -"That storm over there is nothing," said the muleteer, "it is going -off to the left. If we don't meet another as we get near the -confluence of the Joyeuse, we shall reach our destination without -difficulty. But the atmosphere is so heavy we must be prepared for -anything." - -So saying, he unfolded a mantle, with a woman's hood, new and -handsome, which was fastened on his back, and which Brulette admired -greatly. - -"You won't tell me now," she exclaimed, blushing, "that you are not -married,--unless that is a wedding present you have bought on your -way." - -"Perhaps it is," said Huriel in the same tone, "but if it comes on to -rain you can take possession of it; you won't find it too heavy, and -your cape is thin." - -Just as he predicted, the sky cleared on one side and clouded on the -other; and while we were crossing an open heath between -Saint-Saturnin and Sidiailles, the weather suddenly grew tempestuous, -and we were blown about by a gale of wind. The country itself was -wild, and I began to feel anxious in spite of myself. Brulette, too, -thought the place very dreary, and remarked that there was not a tree -for shelter. Huriel laughed at us. - -"Oh! you folks from the wheat-lands!" he cried, "as soon as your feet -touch the heather you think you are lost in the wilderness." - -He was guiding us in a bee-line, knowing well all the paths and -cross-cuts by which a mule could pass to shorten the -distance,--leaving Sidiailles on the left, and making straight for -the banks of the little river Joyeuse, a poor rivulet that looked -harmless enough, but which nevertheless he seemed in a hurry to get -over. Just as we had done so, the rain began, and we were forced -either to get wet or to stop for shelter at a mill, called the mill -of Paulmes. Brulette wanted to go on, and so did the muleteer, who -thought we had better not wait till the roads grew worse; but I said -that the girl was trusted to my care, and that I could not have her -exposed to harm; so Huriel, for once, gave in to my wishes. - -We stayed there two hours, and when the weather cleared and we were -able to start again the sun was already going down. The Joyeuse was -now so swollen that the crossing would have been difficult; happily -it was behind us; but the roads had become abominable, and we had -still one stream to cross before we entered the Bourbonnais. - -We were able to go on as long as daylight lasted; but the night soon -grew so dark that Brulette was frightened, without, however, daring -to say so; but Huriel, perceiving it from her silence, got off his -horse, which he drove before him, for the animal knew the road as -well as he did, and taking the bridle of my cousin's mule, led him -carefully for several miles, watching that he did not stumble, -plunging, himself, into water or sand up to his knees, and laughing -whenever Brulette pitied him and entreated him not to expose himself -for her. She began to discover now that he was a friend in need, -more helpful than her usual lovers, and that he knew how to serve her -without making a show of it. - -The country grew more and more dreary; it was nothing but little -grassy slopes cut into by rivulets bordered with reeds and flowers -which smelt good but did not better the hay. The trees were fine, -and the muleteer declared the country richer and prettier than ours -on account of its pasture and fruit lands. But, for my part, I did -not see any prospect of great harvests, and I wished I were at home -again,--all the more because I was not assisting Brulette, having -enough to do in keeping myself out of the ruts and bogs on the way. - -At last the moon shone out, and we reached the woods of La Roche, at -the confluence of the Arnon and another river, the name of which I -have forgotten. - -"Stay there, on that bit of high ground," Huriel said to us; "you can -even dismount and stretch your legs. The place is sandy, and the -rain has hardly got through the oak-leaves. I am going to see if we -can ford the stream." - -He went down to the river and came back at once, saying: "The -stepping-stones are covered, and we shall have to go up as far as -Saint-Pallais to get across. If we had not lost time at the mill we -could have crossed before the river rose, and been at our destination -by this time. But what is done is done; let us see what to do now. -The water is going down. By staying here we can get across in five -or six hours, and reach home by daybreak without fatigue or danger, -for the plain between the two arms of the Arnon is sure to be dry. -Whereas, if we go up to Saint-Pallais, we may stumble about half the -night and not get there any sooner." - -"Well, then," said Brulette, "let us stay here. The place is dry and -the weather is clear; and though the wood is rather wild, I shall not -be afraid with you two by me." - -"That's a brave girl!" said Huriel. "Come, now let's have supper, as -there is nothing better to do. Tiennet, tie the _clairin_, for there -are several woods all round us and I can't be sure about wolves. -Unsaddle the mules; they won't stray from far the horse; and you, my -pretty one, help me make a fire, for the air is damp and I want you -to sup comfortably and not take cold." - -I felt greatly discouraged and sad at heart, I could hardly tell why. -Whether I was mortified at being of no service to Brulette in such a -difficult journey, or whether the muleteer seemed to make light of -me, certain it is I was already homesick. - -"What are you grumbling about?" said Huriel, who seemed all the gayer -as we got deeper and deeper into trouble. "Are not you as well off -as a monk in his refectory? These rocks make a fine chimney, and -here are seats and sideboards. Isn't this the third meal you have -had to-day? Don't you think the moon gives a better light than your -old pewter lamp? The provisions are not hurt by the rain, for my -hampers were tightly covered. This blazing hearth is drying the air -all round us; the branches overhead and the moist plants underfoot -smell better, it seems to me, than your cheeses and rancid butter. -Don't you breathe another breath under these great vaulting branches? -Look at them lighted by the flames! They are like hundreds of arms -interlaced to shelter us. If now and then a bit of a breeze shakes -the damp foliage, see how the diamonds rain down to crown us! What -do you find so melancholy in the idea that we are all alone in a -place unknown to you? There is everything here that is most -comforting; God, in the first place, who is everywhere; next, a -charming girl and two good friends ready to stand by each other. -Besides, do you think a man ought to live in a hive all his days? I -think, on the contrary, that it is his duty to roam; that he will be -a hundred times stronger, gayer, healthier in body and mind if he -doesn't look after his own comfort too much, for that makes him -languid, timid, and subject to diseases. The more you avoid heat and -cold the more you will suffer when they catch you. You will see my -father, who, like me, has never slept in a bed ten times in his life; -he has no rheumatism or lumbago, though he works in his shirtsleeves -in the dead of winter. And then, too, is it not glorious to feel you -are firmer and more solid than the wind and the thunder? When the -storm rages isn't the music splendid? And the mountain torrents -which rush down the ravines and go dancing from root to root, -carrying along the pebbles and leaving their white foam clinging to -the bracken, don't they sing a song as gay as any you can dream of as -you fall asleep on some islet they have scooped out around you? -Animals are gloomy in bad weather, I admit that; the birds are -silent, the foxes run to earth; even my dog finds shelter under the -horse's belly; what distinguishes man from beast is that he keeps his -heart gay and peaceful through the battles of the air and the whims -of the clouds. He alone, who knows how by reasoning to save himself -from fear and danger, has the instinct to feel what is so beautiful -in the uproar of nature." - -Brulette listened eagerly to the muleteer. She followed his eyes and -all his gestures and entered into everything he said, without -explaining to herself how such novel ideas and words excited her mind -and stirred her heart. I felt rather touched by them, too (though I -resisted somewhat), for Huriel had such an open, resolute face under -all the blacking that he won folks in spite of themselves, just as -when we are beaten at rackets by a fine player we admire him though -we lose the stakes. - -We were in no great hurry to finish our supper, for certainly the -place was dry, and when the fire burned down to a bed of hot ashes, -the weather had grown so warm and clear that we felt very comfortable -and quite ready to listen to the lively talk and fine ideas of the -muleteer. He was silent from time to time, listening to the river, -which still roared a good deal; and as the mountain brooks were -pouring into it with a thousand murmuring voices, there was no -likelihood that we could set forth again that night. Huriel, after -going down to examine it, advised us to go to sleep. He made a bed -for Brulette with the mule-pads, wrapping her well up in all the -extra garments he had with him, and talking gayly, but with no -gallant speeches, showing her the same interest and tenderness, and -no more, that he would have shown to a little child. - -Then he stretched himself, without cushion or covering, on the bare -ground which was well dried by the fire, invited me to do the same, -and was soon as fast asleep as a dormouse--or nearly so. - -I was lying quiet, though not asleep, for I did not like that kind of -dormitory, when I heard a bell in the distance, as if the _clairin_ -had got loose and was straying in the forest. I lifted myself a -little and saw him still where I had tied him. I knew therefore it -was some other _clairin_, which gave notice of the approach or -vicinity of other muleteers. - -Huriel had instantly risen on his elbow, listening; then he got on -his feet and came to me. "I am a sound sleeper," he said, "when I -have only my mules to watch; but now that I have a precious princess -in charge it is another matter, and I have only been asleep with one -eye. Neither have you, Tiennet, and that's all right. Speak low and -don't move; I don't want to meet my comrades; and as I chose this -place for its solitude I think they won't find us out." - -He had hardly said the words when a dark form glided through the -trees and passed so close to Brulette that a little more and it would -have knocked her. It was that of a muleteer, who at once gave a loud -cry like a whistle, to which other cries responded from various -directions, and in less than a minute half a dozen of these devils, -each more hideous to behold than the others, were about us. We had -been betrayed by Huriel's dog, who, nosing his friends and companions -among the dogs of the muleteers, had gone to find them, and acted as -guide to their masters in discovering our retreat. - -Huriel tried to conceal his uneasiness; for though I softly told -Brulette not to stir, and placed myself before her, it seemed -impossible, surrounded as we were, to keep her long from their prying -eyes. - -I had a confused sense of danger, guessing at more than I really saw, -for Huriel had not had time to explain the character of the men who -were now with us. He spoke to the first-comer in the half-Auvergnat -patois of the Upper Bourbonnais, which he seemed to speak quite as -well as the other man, though he was born in the low-country. I -could understand only a word here and there, but I made out that the -talk was friendly, and that the other was asking him who I was and -what he was doing here. I saw that Huriel was anxious to draw him -away, and he even said to me, as if to be overheard by the rest, for -they could all understand the French language, "Come, Tiennet, let us -say good-night to these friends and start on our way." - -But instead of leaving us alone to make our preparations for -departure, the others, finding the place warm and dry, began to -unpack their mules and turned them loose to feed until daybreak. - -"I will give a wolf-cry to get them out of sight for a few minutes," -whispered Huriel. "Don't move from here, and don't let her move till -I return. Meantime saddle the mules so that we can start quickly; -for to stay here is the worst thing we can do." - -He did as he said, and the muleteers all ran to where the cry -sounded. Unhappily I lost patience, and thought I could profit by -the confusion to save Brulette. I thought I could make her rise -without any one seeing her, for the wrappings made her look like a -bale of clothes. She reminded me that Huriel had told us to wait for -him; but I was so possessed with anger and fear and jealousy, even -suspecting Huriel himself, that I fairly lost my head, and seeing a -close copse very near us, I took my cousin firmly by the hand and -began to run towards it. - -But the moon was bright, and the muleteers so near that we were seen, -and a cry arose,--"Hey! hey! a woman!" and all the scoundrels ran -after us. I saw at once there was nothing to be done but let myself -be killed. So lowering my head like a boar and raising my stick in -in the air, I was just about to deliver a blow on the jaws of the -first-comer which might have sent his soul to Paradise, when Huriel -caught my arm as he came swiftly to my side. - -Then he spoke to the others with great vehemence and yet firmness. A -sort of dispute arose, of which Brulette and I could not understand a -word; and it seemed far from satisfactory, for Huriel was listened to -only now and then, and twice one of the miscreants got near enough to -Brulette to lay his devilish paw upon her arm as if to lead her away. -Indeed, if it had not been for my driving my nails into his buck's -skin to make him let go he would have dragged her from my arms by the -help of the rest; for there were eight of them, all armed with stout -boar-spears, and they seemed used to quarrels and violence. - -Huriel, who kept cool and stood firmly between us and the enemy, -prevented my delivering the first blow, which, as I saw later, would -have ruined us. He merely continued to speak, sometimes in a tone of -remonstrance, sometimes with a menacing air, and finally he turned -round to me and said in the French language: "Isn't it true, Étienne, -that this is your sister, an honest girl, betrothed to me, and now on -her way to the Bourbonnais to make acquaintance with my family? -These men here, my good friends and comrades in matters of right and -justice, are trying to pick a quarrel with me because they don't -believe this. They fancy that you and I were talking here with some -woman we had just met, and they want to join company. But I tell -them, and I swear to God, that before they insult this young woman by -so much as a word they will have to kill both you and me, and bear -our blood on their souls in sight of God and man." - -"Well, what then?" answered one of the wretches, speaking French,--it -was the one who first came in my way, and I was thirsting to deliver -him a blow in the pit of the stomach with my fist that should fell -him to earth. "If you get yourself killed, so much the worse for -you! there are plenty of ditches hereabouts to bury fools in. -Suppose your friends come to find you; we shall be gone, and the -trees and the stones have no tongues to tell what they have seen." - -Happily, he was the only real scoundrel in the party. The others -rebuked him, and a tall blond fellow, who seemed to have authority, -took him by the arm and shoved him away from us, swearing and abusing -him in a gibberish that made the whole forest resound. - -After that all real danger was over,--the idea of shedding blood -having touched the consciences of these rough men. They turned the -matter off with a laugh, and joked with Huriel, who answered them in -the same tone. Nevertheless, they seemed unwilling to let us go. -They wanted to see Brulette's face, which she kept hidden under her -hood, wishing, for once in her life, that she was old and ugly. - -But all of a sudden she changed her mind, having guessed at the -meaning of the words said to Huriel and me in the Auvergne dialect. -Stung with anger and pride, she let go my arm, and throwing back her -hood she said, with an offended air and plenty of courage: -"Dishonorable men! I have the good fortune not to understand what -you say, but I see in your faces that you insult me in your hearts. -Well, look at me! and if you have ever seen the face of a woman who -deserves respect, you may know that you see one now. Shame on your -vile behavior! let me go my way without hearing more of you." - -Brulette's action, bold as it was, worked marvels. The tall fellow -shrugged his shoulders and whistled a moment, while the others -consulted together, seeming rather confused; then suddenly he turned -his back on us, saying in a loud voice, "There's been talk enough; -let us go! You elected me captain of the company, and I will punish -any one who annoys Jean Huriel any longer; for he is a good comrade -and respected by the whole fraternity." - -The party filed off, and Huriel, without saying a word, saddled the -mules and made us mount; then, going before but looking round at -every step, he led us at a sharp pace to the river. It was still -swollen and roaring, but he plunged right in, and when he got to the -middle he cried out, "Come, don't be afraid!" and then, as I -hesitated to allow Brulette to get wet, he came angrily back to us -and struck her mule to make it go on, swearing that it was better to -die than be insulted. - -"I think so too," answered Brulette in the same tone, and striking -the mule herself, she plunged boldly into the current, which foamed -higher than the breast of the animal. - - - - -TWELFTH EVENING. - -There was an instant when the animal seemed to lose footing, but -Brulette just then was between us two, and showed a great deal of -courage. When we reached the other bank Huriel again lashed the -beasts and put them to a gallop, and it was not until we reached open -ground in full view of the sky, and were nearing habitations, that he -allowed us to draw breath. - -"Now," said he, walking his horse between Brulette and me, "I must -blame both of you. I am not a child to have led you into danger and -left you there. Why did you run from the spot where I told you to -wait for me?" - -"It is you who blame us, is it?" said Brulette, rather sharply. "I -should have thought it was all the other way." - -"Say what you have to say," returned Huriel, gravely. "I will speak -later. What do you blame me for?" - -"I blame you," she answered, "for not having foreseen the dangerous -encounter we were likely to make; I blame you, above all, for giving -assurances of safety to my grandfather and me, in order to induce me -to leave my home and country, where I am loved and respected, and for -having brought me through desolate woods where you were scarcely able -to save me from the insults of your friends. I don't know what -coarse language they used about me, but I understood enough to see -that you were forced to answer for my being a decent girl. So, being -in your company was enough to make my character doubted! Ah, what a -miserable journey! This is the first time in my life I was ever -insulted, and I did not think such a thing could happen to me!" - -Thereupon, her heart swelling with mortification and anger, she began -to cry. Huriel at first said nothing; he seemed very sad. Then he -plucked up courage and replied:-- - -"It is true, Brulette, that you were misjudged. You shall be -revenged, I promise you that. But as I could not punish those men at -the time without endangering you, I suffer within me such pangs of -baffled rage as I cannot describe to you and you could never -comprehend." - -Tears cut short his words. - -"I don't want to be avenged," said Brulette, "and I beg you won't -think of it again; I will try to forget it all myself." - -"But you will always curse the day when you trusted yourself to me," -he said, clenching his fist as though he would fain knock himself -down. - -"Come, come," I said to them, "you must not quarrel now that the harm -and the danger are well over. I admit it was my fault. Huriel -enticed the muleteers away in one direction and could have got us -away in another. It was I who threw Brulette into the lion's jaws, -thinking I could save her quicker." - -"There would have been no danger but for that," said Huriel. "Of -course, among muleteers, as among all men who lead a half-wild life, -there are scoundrels. There was one of the kind in that band; but -you saw that they all blamed him. It is also true that many of us -are uneducated and make unseemly jokes. But I don't know what you -really accuse our fraternity of doing. We may be partners in money -and pleasure, as we are in losses and dangers, but we all of us -respect women quite as much as other Christian folk do. You saw -yourself that virtue was respected for its own sake, because one word -from you brought those men at once to their duty." - -"Nevertheless," said Brulette, still angry, "you were in a great -hurry to get us away; you made us go fast enough to risk being -drowned in the river. You know you were not master of those bad men, -and you were afraid they might return to their evil wishes." - -"It all came from their seeing you run away with Tiennet," said -Huriel. "They thought you were doing wrong. If it had not been for -your fear and your distrust of me you would never have been seen by -my comrades. You may as well confess, both of you, that you had a -very bad idea of me." - -"I never had a bad idea of you," said Brulette. - -"I had," said I, "just then, for a moment; I confess it, for I don't -wish to lie." - -"It is always better not," returned Huriel, "and I hope you will soon -think differently of me." - -"I do now," I said. "I saw how firm you were, and how you mastered -your anger, and I agree that it was wiser to speak soft in the -beginning than to end soft; blows come fast enough. If it were not -for you, I should be dead now, and so would you for helping me, which -would have been a dreadful thing for Brulette. And now, here we are -well out of it, thanks to you; and I think we ought, all three of us, -to be the better friends." - -"That's good!" cried Huriel, pressing my hand. "That's the -Berrichon's best nature; he shows his good sense and his sober -judgment. You ought to be a Bourbonnaise, Brulette, you are so hasty -and impulsive." - -She allowed him to take her hand in his, but she continued -thoughtful; and as I feared she might take cold after getting so wet -in the river, we entered the first house we came to to change our -clothes and refresh ourselves with a little mulled wine. It was now -daybreak, and the country-folk seemed very kind and ready to help us. - -When we resumed our journey the sun was already warm, and the -country, which lay rather high between two rivers, was delightful to -the eye and reminded me a little of our own plains. Brulette's -vexation was all over; for, in talking with her beside the fire of -the good Bourbonnais, I had proved to her that an honest girl was not -degraded by the talk of a drunken man, and that no woman was safe if -such things were to be considered. The muleteer had left us for a -moment, and when he returned to put Brulette into her saddle she -could not restrain a cry of amazement. He had washed and shaved and -dressed himself properly,--not so handsomely as the first time she -had seen him, but looking well enough in face and well enough clothed -to do her honor. - -However, she uttered neither compliment nor jest; she only looked at -him intently when his eyes were not upon her, as if to renew her -acquaintance with him. She seemed sorry to have been crabbed with -him, and as if she did not know how to make it up; but he talked of -other things, explained the Bourbonnais district which we had entered -after crossing the river, told me about the manners and customs, and -discoursed like a man who was not wanting for sense in any way. - -At the end of two hours, without fatigue or further adventure, but -still riding up hill, we reached Mesples, the parish adjoining the -forest where we were to find Joseph. We passed straight through the -village, where Huriel was accosted by many persons who seemed to hold -him in much esteem,--not to mention some young girls who eyed with -surprise the company he had with him. - -We had not, however, reached our destination. We were bound for the -depths, or rather I should say the highest part, of the wood; for the -forest of the Alleu, which joins that of Chambérat, covers the -plateau from which five or six little rivers or brooks come down, -forming a wild tract of country surrounded by barren plains, where -the view is extensive on all sides, towards other forests and other -heaths stretching endlessly away. - -We were as yet only in what is called the Lower Bourbonnais, which -adjoins the upper part of Berry. Huriel told me that the ground -continued to ascend as far as Auvergne. The woods were -fine,--chiefly full-grown trees of white oak, which are the finest -species. The brooks, which cut into and ravine these woods in every -direction, form in many places moist coverts, where alders, willows, -and aspen grow; all fine trees, which those of our region can't -compare with. I saw also, for the first time, a tree with white -stems and beautiful foliage, called the beech, which does not grow -with us. It is the king of trees after the oak; for if it is less -handsome than the latter, it is certainly quite as lovely. There -were but few of them in these forests, and Huriel told me they -abounded only in the centre of the Bourbonnais country. - -I gazed at all these things with much interest, expecting, however, -to see more rare things than there were, and half-believing the trees -would have their roots in the air and their heads in the ground, -after the manner of those who imagine about distant parts that they -have never seen. As for Brulette, whether it was that she had a -natural taste for wild scenery, or whether she wanted to console -Huriel for the reproaches she had showered on him, it is certain that -she admired things out of all reason, and did honor and reverence to -the least little wild flower she saw in the path. - -We advanced for some time without meeting a living soul, when -suddenly Huriel said, pointing to an open and some felled trees: -"Here we are, at the clearing; now in a minute more you will see our -city and my father's castle." - -He laughed as he said it, and we were still looking about us for -something like a village, when he added, pointing to some mud huts -which were more like the lairs of animals than the abodes of men: -"These are our summer palaces, our country-houses. Stay here, and I -will call Joseph." - -He went off at a gallop, looked into the doorways of all the huts, -and came back, evidently uneasy, but hiding it as best he could, to -say: "There is no one here, and that is a good sign. Joseph must be -better, and has gone to work with my father. Wait for me here; sit -down and rest in our cabin; it is the first, right before you; I'll -go and see where the patient is." - -"No, no," said Brulette; "we will go with you." - -"Are you afraid to be alone here? You are quite mistaken. You are -now in the domain of the woodsmen, and they are not, like the -muleteers, imps of Satan. They are honest country-folk, like those -you have at home, and where my father rules you have nothing to fear." - -"I am not afraid of your people," replied Brulette, "but it frightens -me not to find José. Who knows? perhaps he is dead and buried. The -idea has just come into my head and it makes my blood creep." - -Huriel turned pale, as if the same thought struck him; but he would -not give heed to it. "The good God would never have allowed it," he -said. "But get down, leave the mules just here, and come with me." - -He took a little path which led to another clearing; but even there -we did not find Joseph nor any one else. - -"You fancy these woods are deserted," said Huriel; "and yet I see by -fresh marks of the axe that the woodsmen have been at work here all -the morning. This is the hour when they take a little nap, and they -are probably all lying among the bracken, where we should not see -them unless we stepped upon them. But listen! there's a sound that -delights my heart. My father is playing the bagpipe,--I recognize -his method; and that's a sign that José is better, for it is not a -sad tune, and my father would be very sad if any misfortune had -happened to the lad." - -We followed Huriel, and the music was certainly so delightful that -Brulette, hurrying as she was to get to Joseph, could not help -stopping now and then, as if charmed, to listen. And I myself, -without being able to comprehend the thing as she did, felt all five -of my natural senses stirred up within me. At every step I fancied I -saw differently, heard differently, breathed and walked in a -different manner from what I ever did before. The trees seemed -finer, so did the earth and sky, and my heart was full of a -satisfaction I couldn't give a reason for. - -Presently, standing on some rocks, round which a pretty rivulet all -full of flowers was murmuring along, we saw Joseph, looking very sad, -beside a man who was sitting down and playing a bagpipe to please the -poor sick fellow. The dog, Parpluche, was beside them and seemed to -be listening too, like an intelligent human being. - -As the pair paid no heed to us Brulette held us back, wishing to -examine Joseph and judge of his health by his appearance before she -spoke to him. He was as white as a sheet and as shrunken as a bit of -dead wood, by which we knew that the muleteer had not deceived us; -but what was very consoling was the fact that he was nearly a head -taller than when he left us; which of course the people about him -might not notice, but which, to us, explained his illness as the -result of his growth. In spite of his sunken cheeks and white lips, -he had grown to be a handsome man; his eyes, notwithstanding his -languid manner, were clear, and even bright as running water, his -hair fine and parted above his pallid face like that of the blessed -Jesus; in short, he was the image of an angel from heaven, which made -him as different from other peasants as the almond-flower differs -from an almond in its husk. His hands were as white as a woman's, -for the reason that he had not worked of late, and the Bourbonnais -costume which he had taken to wearing showed off his well-built -figure better than the hempen blouses and big sabots of our parts. - -Having given our first attention to Joseph we were next compelled to -look at Huriel's father, a man I have seldom seen the like of,--one -who, without education, had great knowledge and a mind that would not -have disgraced the wealthy and famous. He was tall and strong, of -fine carriage, like Huriel, but stouter and broader about the -shoulders; his head was ponderous and set on like that of a bull. -His face was not at all handsome, for his nose was flat, his lips -thick, and his eyes round; but for all that, it was one you liked to -look at, for it satisfied you with its air of command and of strength -and of goodness. His large black eyes glittered like -lightning-flashes from his head, and his broad mouth laughed with a -glee which would have brought you back from the jaws of death. - -At the present moment his head was covered with a blue handkerchief -knotted behind, and he wore no other garments than his shirt and -breeches, with a big leather apron, which his hands, hardened by -toil, matched in color and texture. In fact, his fingers, scarred -and crushed by many an accident, for he never spared himself danger, -looked like roots of box twisted into knots, and the wonder was that -he was able to do any work beyond breaking stones with a pick-axe. -Nevertheless he used them as delicately on the chanter of his bagpipe -as if they were slender reeds, or tiny bird's claws. - -Beside him were the trunks of several large oaks, lately cut down and -sawn apart; among them lay his tools,--his axe, shining like a razor, -his saw as pliable a reed, and his earthen bottle, the wine of which -kept up his strength. - -Presently Joseph, who was listening breathlessly to the music, saw -his dog Parpluche run towards us; he raised his eyes and beheld us -within ten feet of him. From pallid he grew red as fire, but did not -stir, thinking probably it was a vision called up by the music which -had made him dream. - -Brulette ran to him, her arms extended; then he uttered a cry and -fell, as if choking, on his knees, which frightened me, for I had no -conception of that sort of love, and I thought he had a fit which -might kill him. But he recovered himself quickly and began to thank -Brulette and me and also Huriel, with such friendly words so readily -uttered, that you would never think it was the same José who in the -olden time always answered, "I don't know" to everything that was -said to him. - -Père Bastien, or rather the Head-Woodsman (for such he was always -called in these parts), laid aside his bagpipe, and while Brulette -and Joseph were talking together, he shook me by the hand and -welcomed me as if he had known me from my birth up. - -"So this is your friend Tiennet?" he said to his son. "Well, his -face suits me, and his body, too, for I warrant I can hardly meet my -arms round it, and I have always noticed that the biggest and -strongest men are the gentlest. I see it in you, my Huriel, and in -myself, too, for I'm always inclined to love my neighbor rather than -crush him. So, Tiennet, I give you welcome to our wild woods; you -won't find your fine wheaten bread nor the variety of salads you get -from your garden, but we will try to regale you with good talk and -hearty good-will. I see you have brought that handsome Nohant girl -who is half-sister, half-mother to our poor José. That's a good deed -done, for he had no heart to get well; now I shall feel easier about -him, for I think the medicine is good." - -As he said this he looked at José, who was sitting on his heels at -Brulette's feet, holding her hand and gazing at her with all his -eyes, while he asked questions about his mother, and Père Brulet, and -the neighbors, and all the parish. Brulette, observing that the -Head-Woodsman was speaking of her, came to him and begged pardon for -not having saluted him at first. But he, without more ado, took her -round the waist and set her on a high rock, as if to see her all at -once, like the figure of a saint or some other precious thing. Then, -placing her on the ground again, he kissed her on the forehead, -saying to José, who blushed as much as Brulette:-- - -"You told me true; she is pretty from top to toe. Here, I think, is -a bit of nature without a flaw. Body and soul are of the best -quality; I can see that in her eye. Tell me, Huriel, for I am so -blind about my own children that I can't judge, is she prettier than -your sister? I think she is not less so, and if they were both mine -I don't know which I should be proudest of. Come, come, Brulette, -don't be ashamed of being handsome, and don't be vain of it, either. -The workman who made the creatures of this world beautiful did not -consult you, and you count for nothing in his work. What he has done -for us we can spoil by folly or stupidity; but I see by your -appearance that, far from doing that, you respect his gifts in -yourself. Yes, yes, you are a beautiful girl, healthy in heart and -upright in mind. I know you already, for you have come here to -comfort that poor lad, who longed for you as the earth longs for -rain. Many another would not have done as you have done, and I -respect you for it. Therefore, I ask your friendship for me, who -will be to you a father, and for my two children, who will be as -brother and sister to you." - -Brulette, whose heart was still swelling with the insults of the -muleteers in the woods of La Roche, was so gratified by the respect -and the compliments of the Head-Woodsman that the tears began to -fall, and flinging herself upon his neck she could answer only by -kissing him, as though he were her own father. - -"The best of all answers," he said, "and I am content with it. Now, -my children, my rest hour is over and I must go to work. If you are -hungry, here is my wallet with some provisions in it. Huriel will go -and find his sister, so that she may keep you company; and, meantime, -my Berrichons, you must talk with Joseph, for I imagine you have a -deal to say to each other. But don't go far away from the sound of -my axe, for you don't know the forest and you might get lost." - -Thereupon he set to work among the trees, after hanging his bagpipe -to the branches of one that was still standing. Huriel ate some food -with us and answered Brulette, who questioned him about his sister. - -"My sister Thérence," he said, "is a pretty girl and a good girl, of -about your own age. I shall not say, as my father did, that she -compares with you; but such as she is she lets people look at her, -and her spirit is none of the tamest either. She follows my father -to all his stations, so that he may not miss his home; for the life -of a woodsman, like that of a muleteer, is very hard and dreary if he -has no companionship for his heart." - -"Where is she now?" asked Brulette. "Can't we go and find her?" - -"I don't know where she is," replied Huriel; "and I rather wonder she -did not hear us, for she is seldom far from the lodges. Have you -seen her to-day, Joseph?" - -"Yes," he answered, "but not since morning. She was feeling ill and -complained of head-ache." - -"She is not used to complain of anything," said Huriel. "If you will -excuse me, Brulette, I will go and fetch her to you as fast as I can." - - - - -THIRTEENTH EVENING. - -After Huriel left us we walked about and talked to Joseph; but -thinking that it was enough for him to have seen me and that he might -like to be alone with Brulette, I left them together, without -appearing to do so, and went after Père Bastien to watch him at work. - -It was a more cheering sight than you can possibly imagine. Never in -my life have I seen man's handiwork despatched in so free and jovial -a manner. I believe he could, without tiring himself, have done the -work of four of the strongest men in his employ; and that, too, while -talking and laughing in company, or singing and whistling when alone. -He told me that wood-cutters as a general thing lived near the woods -where they worked, and that when their houses were within easy -distance they went daily to and from their work. Others, living -farther off, came by the week, starting from home Monday before -daybreak, and returning the following Saturday night. As for those -who came down with him from the uplands, they were hired for three -months, and their huts were larger and better built and victualled -than those of the men who came by the week. - -The same plan was followed with the charcoal men, meaning by them not -those who buy charcoal to sell, but those who make it on the spot for -the benefit of the owners of the woods and forests. There were other -men who bought the right to put it in the market, just as there were -muleteers who bought and sold charcoal on their own account; but as a -general thing, the business of the muleteer was solely that of -transporting it. - -At the present time this business of the muleteers is going down, and -it will probably soon be extinct. The forests are better cleared; -there are fewer of those impassable places for horses and wagons -where mules alone can make their way. The number of manufactories -and ironworks which still use wood-coal is much restricted; in fact, -there are but few muleteers now in our part of the country. Only a -few remain in the great forests of Cheurre in Berry, together with -the woodsmen in the Upper Bourbonnais. But at the time of which I am -telling you, when the forests covered one-half of our provinces, all -these trades were flourishing and much sought after. So much so that -in a forest which was being cleared you might find a whole population -of these different trades, each having its customs and its -fraternities, and living, as much as possible, on good terms with -each other. - -Père Bastien told me, and later I saw it for myself, that all men who -went to work in the woods grew so accustomed to the roving and -hazardous life that they suffered a kind of homesickness if they were -obliged to live on the plains. As for him, he loved the woods like a -fox or a wolf, though he was the kindest of men and the liveliest -companion that you could find anywhere. - -For all that, he never laughed, as Huriel did, at my preference for -my own region. "All parts of the country are fine," he said, "if -they are our own; it is right that every one should feel a particular -liking for the region that brought him up. That's a provision of -God, without which the barren and dreary places would be neglected -and abandoned. I have heard tell of folks who travelled far into -lands covered with snow and ice the greater part of the year; and -into others where fire came from the mountains and ravaged the land. -Nevertheless, people build fine houses on these bedevilled mountains, -and hollow caves to live in under the snow. They love, and marry, -and dance, and sing, and sleep, and bring up children, just as we do. -Never despise any man's home or lodging or family. The mole loves -his dark tomb as much as the bird loves its nest in the foliage; and -the ant would laugh in your face if you tried to make him believe -there were kings who built better palaces than he." - -The day was getting on, and still Huriel did not return with his -sister Thérence. Père Bastien seemed surprised but not uneasy. I -went towards Brulette and José several times, for they were not far -off; but as they were always talking and took no notice of my -approach, I finally went off by myself, not knowing very well how to -while away the time. I was, above all things, the true friend of -that dear girl. Ten times a day I felt I was in love with her, and -ten times a day I knew I was cured of it; and now I made no pretence -of love, and so felt no chagrin. I had never been very jealous of -Joseph before the muleteer told us of the great love that was -consuming him; and after that time, strange to say, I was not jealous -at all. The more compassion Brulette showed for him, the more I -seemed to see that she gave it from a sense of friendly duty. And -that grieved me instead of pleasing me. Having no hope for myself, I -still wanted to keep the presence and companionship of a person who -made everything comfortable about her; and I also felt that if any -one deserved her, it was the young fellow who had always loved her, -and who, no doubt, could never make any one else love him. - -I was even surprised that Brulette did not feel it so in her heart, -especially when it appeared how José, in spite of his illness, had -grown handsome, well-informed, and agreeable in speech. No doubt he -owed this change for the better to the companionship of the -Head-Woodsman and his son, but he had also set his own will to it, -and she ought to have approved of him for that. However, Brulette -seemed to take no notice of the change, and I fancied that during the -journey she had thought more of the muleteer Huriel than I had known -her to do of any other man. That idea began to distress me more and -more; for if her fancy turned upon this stranger, two terrible -disasters faced me; one was that our poor José would die of grief, -the other, that our dear Brulette would leave our part of the country -and I should no longer see her, or have her to talk to. - -I had got about so far in my reasoning when I saw Huriel returning, -bringing with him so beautiful a girl that Brulette could not compare -with her. She was tall, slender, broad in the shoulders, and free, -like her brother, in all her movements. Her complexion was naturally -brown, but living always in the shade of woods she was pale, though -not pallid,--a sort of whiteness which was charming to the eye, -though it surprised you,--and all the other features of her face were -faultless. I was rather shocked by her little straw hat, turned up -behind like the stern of a boat; but from it issued a mass of such -marvellous black hair that I soon grew reconciled to its oddity. I -noticed from the first moment I saw her that, unlike Brulette, she -was neither smiling nor gracious. She did not try to make herself -prettier than she was, and her whole aspect was of a more decided -character, hotter in will and colder in manner. - -As I was sitting against a pile of cut wood, neither of them saw me, -and when they stopped close by where two paths forked they were -speaking to each other as though they were alone. - -"I shall not go," said the beautiful Thérence, in a firm voice. "I -am going to the lodges to prepare their beds and their supper. That -is all that I choose to do at the present time." - -"Won't you speak to them? Are you going to show ill-temper?" said -Huriel, as if surprised. - -"I am not out of temper," answered the young girl. "Besides, if I -were, I am not forced to show it." - -"You do show it though, if you won't go and welcome that young girl, -who must be getting very tired of the company of men, and who will be -glad enough to see another girl like herself." - -"She can't be very tired of them," replied Thérence, "unless she has -a bad heart. However, I am not bound to amuse her. I will serve her -and help her; that is all that I consider my duty." - -"But she expects you; what am I to tell her?" - -"Tell her what you like; I am not obliged to render account of myself -to her." - -So saying, the daughter of the Head-Woodsman turned into a wood-path -and Huriel stood still a moment, thinking, like a man who is trying -to guess a riddle. - -Then he went on his way; but I remained just where I was, rigid as a -stone image. A sort of vision came over me when I first beheld -Thérence; I said to myself: "That face is known to me; who is it she -is like?" - -Then, slowly, as I looked at her and heard her speak, I knew she -reminded me of the little girl in the cart that was stuck in the -mire,--the little girl who had set me dreaming all one evening, and -who may have been the reason why Brulette, thinking me too simple in -my tastes, had turned her love away from me. At last, when she -passed close by me in going away, I noticed the black mole at the -corner of her mouth, and I knew by that that she was indeed the girl -of the woods whom I had carried in my arms, and who had kissed me -then as readily as she now seemed unwilling even to receive me. - -I stayed a long time thinking of many things in connection with this -encounter; but finally Père Bastien's bagpipe, sounding a sort of -fanfare, warned me that the sun was going down. I had no trouble in -finding the path to the lodges, as they call the huts of the -woodsmen. That belonging to Huriel was larger and better built than -the rest; it consisted of two rooms, one of them being for Thérence. -In front of it was a kind of shed roofed with green boughs, which -served as a shelter from wind and rain; two boards placed on trestles -made a table, laid for the occasion. - -Usually the Huriel family lived on bread and cheese, with a little -salt meat once a day. This was neither miserliness nor poverty, but -simplicity of life and customs; these children of the woods think our -need of hot meals and the way we have of keeping our women cooking -from morning till night both useless and exacting. - -However, expecting the arrival of Joseph's mother or that of Père -Brulet, Thérence, wishing to give them what they were accustomed to, -had gone the night before to Mesples for provisions. She now lighted -a fire in the glade and called her neighbors to assist her. These -were the wives of woodsmen, one old and one ugly. There were no -other women in the forest, as it is not the custom, nor have these -people the means, to take their families into the woods. - -The neighboring lodges, six in number, held about a dozen men, who -were beginning to assemble on a pile of fagots to sup in each other's -company on their frugal bit of lard and rye bread; but the -Head-Woodsman, going up to them before he went to his own lodge to -put away his tools and his leathern apron, said, in his kind and -manly way: "Brothers, I have a party of strangers with me to-day, -whom I shall not condemn to follow our customs. But it shall never -be said that roast meat is eaten and the wine of Sancerre served in -the lodge of the Head-Woodsman when his friends are not there to -partake with him. Come, therefore, that I may make you friendly with -my guests; those of you who refuse will give me pain." - -No one refused, and we were a company of over twenty,--not all round -the table, for these folk don't care for comfort, but seated, some on -stones, some on the grass, one lying on his back among the shavings, -another perched on the twisted limb of a tree; and all--saving the -matter of holy baptism--more like a troop of wild boars than a -company of Christian people. - -All this time the beautiful Thérence seemed, as she came and went -about her duties, not a whit more inclined to take notice of us until -her father, who had called to her in vain, caught her as she passed, -and leading her up to us against her will, presented her. - -"Please excuse her, my friends," he said; "she is a little savage, -born and reared in the woods. She is shy and bashful; but she will -get over it, and I ask you, Brulette, to help her do so, for she -improves on acquaintance." - -Thereupon Brulette, who was neither shy nor ill-humored herself, -opened both arms and flung them round Thérence's neck; and the -latter, not daring to forbid her, yet unable to escape, stood -stock-still and threw up her head, looking out of her eyes, which had -hitherto been glued to the ground. In this attitude, so near each -other, eye to eye and almost cheek to cheek, they made me think of a -pair of young bulls, one of which butts his head in play, while the -other, distrustful and already conscious of horns, awaits the moment -when he can strike him treacherously. - -But all of a sudden Thérence seemed conquered by Brulette's soft -eyes, and lowering her head she dropped it on the other's shoulder to -hide her tears. - -"Well, well!" said Père Bastien, teasing and caressing his daughter, -"this is what you call skittish! I never should have thought a -girl's shyness would bring her to tears. Try to understand these -young things if you can! Come, Brulette, you seem the more -reasonable of the two; take her away, and don't let go of her till -she has talked to you. It is only the first word that costs." - -"Very good," answered Brulette. "I will help her, and the first -order she gives me I will obey so well that she will forgive me for -having frightened her." - -As they went off together, Père Bastien said to me: "Just see what -women are! The least coquettish of them (and my Thérence is of that -kind) cannot come face to face with a rival in beauty without getting -scarlet with anger or frozen with fear. The stars live contentedly -side by side in the sky, but when two daughters of Mother Eve come -together there is always one who is miserable at the comparison that -can be made between them." - -"I think, father, that you are not doing justice to Thérence in -saying that," observed Huriel. "She is neither shy nor envious." -Then lowering his voice, "I think I know what grieves her, but it is -best to pay no attention." - -They brought in the broiled meat, with some fine yellow mushrooms, -which I could not make up my mind to taste, though I saw everybody -else eat them fearlessly; then came eggs fricasseed with all sorts of -strong herbs, buckwheat cakes, and the Chambérat cheeses which are -famous everywhere. All the laborers junketed to their heart's -content, but in a very different way from ours. Instead of taking -their time and chewing each morsel, they swallowed the food whole -like famished creatures, a thing that is not considered at all proper -with us; in fact, they could not wait to be through eating before -they began to sing and dance in the very middle of the feast. - -These men, whose blood is not as cool as ours, seemed to me unable to -keep still a moment. They would not wait till the dishes were passed -round, but carried up their slices of bread to hold the stew, -refusing plates, and then returned to their perch in the trees or -their bed in the sawdust. Some ate standing, others talking and -gesticulating, each telling his own tale and singing his own song. -They were like bees buzzing about the hive; it made me giddy, and I -felt I was not enjoying the feast at all. - -Although the wine was good and the Head-Woodsman did not spare it, no -one took more than was good for him; for each man had his work to do -and would not let himself be unfitted for the labor of the morrow. -So the feast was short, and, although at one time it seemed to me to -be getting rather boisterous, still it ended early and peacefully. -The Head-Woodsman received many compliments for his hospitality, and -it was quite plain that he had a natural control over the whole band, -not so much by any method as by the influence of his kind heart and -his wise head. - -We received many assurances of friendship and offers of service; and -I must admit that the people were heartier and readier to oblige than -we are in our part of the country. I noticed that Huriel took them -up, one after the other, to Brulette, and presented each by name, -telling them to regard her as neither more nor less than his sister; -whereupon she received so many salutations and civilities that she -had never, even in her own village, been so courted. When night came -the Head-Woodsman offered to share his cabin with me. Joseph's lodge -was next to ours, but it was smaller, and I should have been much -cramped. So I followed my host,--all the more willingly because I -was charged to watch over Brulette's safety; but I soon saw that she -ran no risk, for she shared the bed of the beautiful Thérence, and -the muleteer, faithful to his usual habits, had already stretched -himself on the ground outside the door, so that neither wolf nor -thief could get an entrance. - -Casting a glance into the little room where the two girls were to -sleep, I saw it contained a bed and a few very decent articles of -furniture. Huriel, thanks to his mules, was able to transport his -sister's household belongings very easily and without expense. Those -of his father gave little trouble, for they consisted solely of a -heap of dry fern and a coverlet. Indeed, the Head-Woodsman thought -even that too much, and would have preferred to sleep under the -stars, like his son. - -I was tired enough to do without a bed, and I slept soundly till -daylight. I thought Brulette did the same, for I heard no sound -behind the plank partition which separated us. When I rose the -Woodsman and his son were already up and consulting together. - -"We were speaking of you," said the father; "and as we must go to our -work, I should like the matter I was talking of to be settled now. I -have explained to Brulette that Joseph needs her company for some -time yet, and she has promised to stay a week at least; but she could -not speak for you, and has asked us to beg you to stay. We hope you -will do so, assuring you that it will give us pleasure; you will not -be a burden on us; and we beg you to act with us as freely as we -would with you if occasion demanded." - -This was said with such an air of sincerity and friendship that I -could not refuse; and indeed, as it was impossible to abandon -Brulette to the company of strangers, I was obliged to give in to her -wishes and Joseph's interests, though eight days seemed to me rather -long. - -"Thank you, my kind Tiennet," said Brulette, coming out of Thérence's -room; "and I thank these good people who have given me such a kind -reception; but if I stay, it must be on condition that no expense is -incurred for us, and that we shall be allowed to provide for -ourselves as we intended to do." - -"It shall be just as you like," said Huriel; "for if the fear of -being a burden on us drives you away, we would rather renounce the -pleasure of serving you. But remember one thing; my father and I -both earn money, and nothing gives either of us so much pleasure as -to oblige our friends and show them hospitality." - -It seemed to me that Huriel was rather fond of jingling his money, as -if to say, "I am a good match." However, he immediately acted like a -man who sets himself aside, for he told us that he was about to start -on a journey. - -When she heard that Brulette gave a little quiver, which nobody -noticed but me, for she recovered instantly and asked, apparently -with indifference, where he was going and for how long. - -"I am going to work in the woods of La Roche," he replied; "I shall -be near enough to come back if you send for me; Tiennet knows the -way. I am going now, in the first instance, to the moor round La -Croze to get my mules and their trappings. I will stop as I come -back and bid you good-bye." - -Thereupon he departed, and the Head-Woodsman, enjoining on his -daughter to take good care of us, went off to his work in another -direction. - -So there we were, Brulette and I, in company of the beautiful -Thérence, who, though she waited on us as actively as if we were -paying her wages, did not seem inclined to be friendly, and answered -shortly, yes or no, to all we said to her. This coolness soon -annoyed Brulette, who said to me, when we were alone for a moment, "I -think, Tiennet, that this girl is displeased with us. She took me -into her bed last night as if she were forced to receive a porcupine. -She flung herself on the farther edge with her nose to the wall, and -except when she asked if I wanted more bedclothes, she would not say -a word to me. I was so tired I would gladly have gone to sleep at -once; indeed, seeing that she pretended to sleep, to avoid speaking -to me, I pretended too; but I could not close my eyes for a long, -long time, for I heard her choking down her sobs. If you will -consent, we will not trouble her any longer; we can find plenty of -empty huts in the forest, and if not, I could arrange with an old -woman I saw here yesterday to send her husband to a neighbor and take -us in. If it is only a grass bed I shall be content; it costs too -much to sleep on a mattress if tears are to pay for it. As for our -meals, I suppose that you can go to Mesples and buy all we want, and -I'll take charge of the cooking." - -"That's all right, Brulette," I answered, "and I'll do as you say. -Look for a lodging for yourself, and don't trouble about me. I am -not sugar nor salt any more than the muleteer who slept at your door -last night. I'll do for you as he did, without fearing that the dew -will melt me. However, listen to this: if we quit the Woodsman's -lodge and table in this way he will think we are angry, and as he has -treated us too well to have given any cause for it himself, he will -see at once that his daughter has rebuffed us. Perhaps he will scold -her; and that might not be just. You say the girl did all she could, -and was even submissive to you. Now, suppose she has some hidden -trouble, have we the right to complain of her silence and her sobs? -Would it not be better to take no notice, and to leave her free all -day to go and meet her lover, if she has one, and spend our own time -with José, for whose sake alone we came here? Are not you rather -afraid that if we look for a place to live apart in, people may fancy -we have some evil motive?" - -"You are right, Tiennet," said Brulette. "Well, I'll have patience -with that tall sulky girl, and let her come and go as she likes." - - - - -FOURTEENTH EVENING. - -The beautiful Thérence had prepared everything for our breakfast, and -seeing that the sun was getting up she asked Brulette if she had -thought of waking Joseph. "It is time," she said, "and he does not -like it if I let him sleep too late, because the next night it keeps -him wakeful." - -"If you are accustomed to wake him, dear," answered Brulette, "please -do so now. I don't know what his habits are." - -"No," said Thérence, curtly, "it is your business to take care of him -now; that is what you have come for. I shall give up and take a -rest, and leave you in charge." - -"Poor José!" Brulette could not help exclaiming. "I see he has been -a great care to you, and that he had better go back with us to his -own country." - -Thérence turned her back without replying, and I said to Brulette, -"Let us both go and call him. I'll bet he will be glad to hear your -voice first." - -José's lodge joined that of the Head-Woodsman. As soon as he heard -Brulette's voice he came running to the door, crying out: "Ah! I -feared I was dreaming, Brulette; then it is really true that you are -here?" - -When he was seated beside us on the logs he told us that for the -first time in many months he had slept all night in one gulp: in -fact, we could see it on his face, which was ten sous better than it -was the night before. Thérence brought him some chicken-broth in a -porringer, and he wanted to give it to Brulette, who refused to take -it,--all the more because the black eyes of the girl of the woods -blazed with anger at José's offer. - -Brulette, who was too shrewd to give any ground for the girl's -vexation, declined, saying that she did not like broth and it would -be a great pity to waste it upon her, adding, "I see, my lad, that -you are cared for like a bourgeois, and that these kind people spare -nothing for your comfort and recovery." - -"Yes," said José, taking Thérence's hand and joining it in his with -that of Brulette, "I have been a great expense to my master (he -always called the Woodsman by that title, because he had taught him -music). Brulette, I must tell you that I have found another angel -upon earth beside you. Just as you helped my mind and consoled my -heart when I was half an idiot and well-nigh good for nothing, so she -has cared for my poor suffering body when I fell ill with fever here. -I can never thank her as I ought for all she has done for me; but I -can say one thing--there's not a third like you two; and in the day -of recompense the good God will grant his choicest crowns to -Catherine Brulet, the rose of Berry, and to Thérence Huriel, the -sweet-briar of the woods." - -It seemed as if Joseph's gentle words poured a balm into the girl's -blood, for Thérence no longer refused to sit down and eat with us; -and Joseph sat between the two beauties, while I, profiting by the -easy ways I had noticed the night before, walked about as I ate, and -sat sometimes near one and sometimes near the other. - -I did my best to please the woodland lass with my attentions, and I -made it a point of honor to show her that we Berrichons were not -bears. She answered my civilities very gently, but I could not make -her raise her eyes to mine all the time we were talking. She seemed -to me to have an odd temper, quick to take offence and full of -distrust. And yet, when she was tranquil, there was something so -good in her expression and in her voice that it was impossible to -take a bad idea of her. But neither in her good moments nor at any -other time did I dare ask her if she remembered that I had carried -her in my arms and that she had rewarded me with a kiss. I was very -sure it was she, for her father, to whom I had already spoken, had -not forgotten the circumstance, and declared he had recalled my face -without knowing where he had seen it. - -During breakfast Brulette, as she told me afterwards, began to have -an inkling of a certain matter, and she at once took it into her head -to watch and keep quiet so as to get at the bottom of it. - -"Now," said she, "do you suppose I am going to sit all day with my -arms folded? Without being a hard worker, I don't say my beads from -one meal to another, and I beg of you, Thérence, to give me some work -by which I can help you." - -"I don't want any help," replied Thérence; "and as for you, you don't -need any work to occupy you." - -"Why not, my dear?" - -"Because you have your friend, and as I should be in the way when you -talk with him I shall go away if you wish to stay here, or I shall -stay here if you wish to go away." - -"That won't please either José or me," said Brulette, rather -maliciously. "I have no secrets to tell him; all that we had to say -to each other we said yesterday. And now the pleasure we take in -each other's company will only be increased if you are with us, and -we beg you to stay--unless you have some one you prefer to us." - -Thérence seemed undecided, and the way she looked at Joseph showed -Brulette that her pride suffered from the fear of being in the way. -Whereupon Brulette said to Joseph, "Help me to keep her! You want -her, don't you? Didn't you say just now that we were your two -guardian angels? Don't you want us to work together for your -recovery?" - -"You are right, Brulette," said Joseph. "Between two such kind -hearts I shall get well quickly; and if you both love me I think each -will love me better,--just as we do a task better with a good comrade -who gives us his strength and doubles ours." - -"And you think it is I," said Thérence, "whom your compatriot needs -as a companion? Well, so be it! I'll fetch my work and do it here." - -She brought some linen cut out for a shirt, and began to sew. -Brulette wanted to help her, and when Thérence refused she said to -Joseph, "Then bring me your clothes to mend; they must be in need of -it by this time." - -Thérence let her look through Joseph's whole wardrobe without saying -a word; but there was neither a hole to mend nor a button to sew on, -so well had they been cared for; and Brulette talked of buying linen -the next day at Mesples to make him some new shirts. Then it -appeared that those Thérence was making were for Joseph, and that she -wanted to finish them, as she had begun them, all by herself. -Suspicion grew stronger and stronger in Brulette's mind, and she -pretended to insist on sharing the work; even Joseph was obliged to -put in a word, for he thought that Brulette would feel dull if she -had nothing to do. On that, Thérence flung down her work angrily, -saying to Brulette: "Finish them yourself! I won't touch them, -again!" and off she went to sulk in the house. - -"José," said Brulette, "that girl is neither capricious nor crazy, as -I first thought she was. She is in love with you." - -Joseph was so overcome that Brulette saw she had said too much. She -did not understand that a sick man, ill in body from the action of -his mind, fears reflection. - -"Why do you tell me so!" he cried; "what new misfortune is to come -upon me?" - -"Why is it a misfortune?" - -"Do you ask me that, Brulette? Do you think I could ever return her -feelings?" - -"Well," said Brulette, trying to pacify him, "she will get over it." - -"I don't know that people ever get over love," he replied; "but if, -through ignorance and want of precaution I have done any harm to the -daughter of my master, and Huriel's sister, the virgin of the woods, -who has prayed to God for me and watched over my life, I am so guilty -that I can never forgive myself." - -"Did not you ever think that her friendship might change to love?" - -"No, Brulette, never." - -"That's curious, José." - -"Why so? Have not I been accustomed from my youth up to be pitied -for my stupidity and helped in my weakness? Did the friendship you -have shown me, Brulette, ever make me vain enough to believe that -you--" Here Joseph became as red as fire, and did not say another -word. - -"You are right," said Brulette, who was prudent and judicious just as -Thérence was quick and sensitive. "We can easily make mistakes about -the feelings which we give and receive. I had a silly idea about the -girl, but if you don't share it there can be nothing in it. Thérence -is, no doubt, just as I am, ignorant of what they call true love, and -waits the time when the good God will put it into her head to live -for the man he has chosen for her." - -"All the same," said Joseph, "I wish to leave this part of the -country and I ought to." - -"We came to take you back," I said, "as soon as you feel strong -enough to go." - -Contrary to my expectation, he rejected the idea vehemently. "No, -no," he said, "I have but one power, and that is my force of will to -be a great musician; I want to have my mother with me, and live -honored and courted in my own country. If I quit these parts now I -shall go to the Upper Bourbonnais till I am admitted into the -fraternity of bagpipers." - -We dared not tell him that we feared he would never have sound lungs. - -Brulette talked to him of other things, while I, much occupied with -the revelation she had made about Thérence, and indeed anxious about -the girl, who had just left her lodge and plunged into the woods, -started in the same direction, with no apparent object, but feeling -curious and very desirous of meeting her. It was not very long -before I heard the sound of choking sighs, which let me know where -she was hiding. No longer feeling shy of her when I knew she was in -trouble, I went forward and spoke to her resolutely. - -"Thérence," I said, observing that she did not weep, and only -quivered and choked with repressed anger, "I think my cousin and I -are the cause of your annoyance. Our coming displeases you; or -rather, Brulette does, for I myself can claim no attention. We were -speaking of you this morning, she and I, and I prevented her from -leaving your lodge, where she thought she was a burden to you. Now -please say frankly if we are, and we will go elsewhere; for though -you may have a low opinion of us, we are none the less right-minded -towards you and fearful of causing you annoyance." - -The proud girl seemed offended by my frankness; she got up from her -seat, for I had placed myself near her. - -"Your cousin wants to go, does she?" she said, with a threatening -air; "she wants to shame me? No, she shall not do it! or else--" - -"Or else what?" I asked, determined to make her confess her feelings. - -"Or else I will leave the woods, and my father and family, and go and -die in the desert." - -She spoke feverishly, with so gloomy an eye and so pale a face, that -I was frightened. - -"Thérence," I said taking her very kindly by the hand and making her -sit down again, "either you were born without a sense of justice or -you have some reason for hating Brulette. If so, tell me what it is; -for it is possible I could clear her of the blame you put upon her." - -"No, you can't clear her, for I know her," cried Thérence, no longer -controlling herself. "Don't think that I know nothing about her! I -have thought enough and questioned Joseph and my brother enough to be -able to judge her conduct and to know what an ungrateful heart and -deceitful nature hers is. She is a flirt, that's what she is, your -compatriot! and all honest girls ought to hate her." - -"That's a hard thing to say," I replied, without seeming troubled. -"What do you base it on?" - -"Doesn't she know," cried Thérence, "that here are three young men in -love with her? and she is tricking all of them,--Joseph, who is dying -of it; my brother, who is now avoiding her; and you, who are trying -to cure yourself. Do you mean to tell me that she does not know all -this; or that she has the slightest preference for any one of you? -No; she has no preference for any one; she pities Joseph, she esteems -my brother, and she does not love you. Your pangs amuse her, and as -she has fifty other lovers in her own village, she pretends she lives -for all and not for one. Well, I don't care for you, Tiennet, for I -don't know you; but as for my brother, who is so often obliged to be -away from us, and goes away now to escape her when he might really -stay at home; and as for poor Joseph, who is ill and partly crazy for -her--Ah! your Brulette is a guilty creature towards both, and ought -to blush for not being able to say a tender word to either of them." - -Just then Brulette, who overheard her, came forward. Though quite -unaccustomed to be spoken of in that way, she was doubtless -well-pleased to know the motive of Huriel's absence, and she seated -herself by Thérence and took her hand with a serious air which was -half pity and half reproach. Thérence was a little pacified, and -said, in a gentler tone:-- - -"Excuse me, Brulette, if I have pained you; but, indeed, I shall not -blame myself, if it brings you to better feelings. Come, admit that -your conduct is treacherous and your heart hard. I don't know if it -is the custom in your country to let men wish for you when you intend -only to refuse them; but I, a poor girl of the woods, think such lies -criminal, and I cannot comprehend such behavior. Open your eyes, and -see the harm you are doing! I don't say that my brother will break -down under it, because he is too strong and too courageous a man, and -there are too many girls, worth more than you, who love him, among -whom he will make his choice one of these days; but have pity upon -poor José, Brulette! You don't know him, though you have been -brought up with him. You thought him half an imbecile; on the -contrary he has a great genius, but his body is feeble and cannot -bear up under the grief you persist in causing him. Give him your -heart, for he deserves it; it is I who entreat you, and who will -curse you if you kill him." - -"Do you really mean what you are saying to me, my poor Thérence?" -answered Brulette, looking her straight in the eye. "If you want to -know what I think, it is that you love Joseph, and that I cause you, -in spite of myself, a bitter jealousy, which leads you to impute this -wrong-doing to me. Well, look at the matter as it is; I don't want -to make José love me; I never thought of doing so, and I am sorry he -does. I even long to help you to cure him of it: and if I had known -what you have now let me see, I would never have come here, though -your brother did tell me it was necessary that I should do so." - -"Brulette," said Thérence, "you must think I have no pride if you -suppose that I love Joseph in the way you mean, and that I condescend -to be jealous of your charms. I have no need to be ashamed before -any one of the sort of love I feel for him. If it were as you -suppose, I should at least have sufficient pride not to let you think -I would dispute him with you. But my friendship for him is so frank -that I dare to protect him openly against your wiles. Love him -truly, and, far from being jealous, I will love and respect you; I -recognize your rights, which are older than mine, and I will help you -to take him back into your own country, on condition that you will -choose him for your sole lover and husband. Otherwise, you may -expect in me an enemy, who will hold you up to condemnation openly. -It shall never be said that I loved the poor lad and nursed him in -illness only to see a village flirt kill him before my very eyes." - -"Very good," said Brulette, who had recovered all her native pride, -"I see more plainly than ever that you are in love with him and -jealous; and I feel all the more satisfied to go away and leave him -to your care. That your attachment to him is honest and faithful I -have no doubt; and I have no reasons, such as you have, to be angry -or unjust. Still I do wonder why you should want me to remain and to -be your friend. Your sincerity gives way there, and I admit that I -should like to know the reason why." - -"The reason," replied Thérence, "is one you give yourself, when you -use shameful words to humiliate me. You have just said that I am -lovesick and jealous: that's how you explain the strength and the -kindness of my feeling for Joseph! you will, no doubt, put it into -his head, and the young man, who owes me respect and gratitude, will -think he has the right to despise me, and ridicule me in his heart." - -"There you are right, Thérence," said Brulette, whose heart and mind -were both too just not to respect the pride of the woodland girl. "I -ought to help you to keep your secret, and I will. I don't say that -I will help you to the extent of my power over Joseph; your pride -would take offence if I did, and I fully understand that you do not -want to receive his regard as a favor from me. But I beg you to be -just, to reflect, and even to give me some good advice, which I, who -am weaker and more humble than you, ask of you to guide my -conscience." - -"Ask it; I will listen to you," said Thérence, pacified by Brulette's -good sense and submission. - -"You must first know," said the latter, "that I have never had any -love for Joseph; and if it will help you, I will tell you why." - -"Tell me; I want to know!" cried Thérence. - -"Well, the reason is," continued Brulette, "that he does not love me -as I should wish to be loved. I have known Joseph from a baby; he -was never amiable to others until he came to live here; he was so -wrapped up in himself that I considered him selfish. I am now -willing to believe that if he was so it was not in a bad sense; but -after the conversation which he and I had together yesterday I am -still convinced that I have a rival in his heart that would soon -crush me if I were his. This mistress whom he would surely prefer to -his wife--don't deceive yourself, Thérence--is music." - -"I have sometimes thought that very thing," replied Thérence, after -reflecting a moment, and showing by her soothed manner that she would -rather struggle with music for Joseph's heart, than with the pretty -Brulette. "Joseph," she added, "is often in a state in which I have -sometimes seen my father,--when the pleasure of making music is so -great that they are not conscious of anything about them; but my -father is always so loving and lovable that I am never jealous of his -pleasure." - -"Well, then, Thérence," said Brulette, "let us hope he will make -Joseph like himself and worthy of you." - -"Of me? why of me more than of you? God is my witness that I am not -thinking of myself when I work and pray for Joseph. My future -troubles me very little, Brulette; I don't understand why people -should be thinking of themselves in the friendship they give to -others." - -"Then," said Brulette, "you are a sort of saint, dear Thérence, and I -feel I am not worthy of you; for I do think about myself, and a great -deal, too, when I dream of love and happiness. Perhaps you do not -love Joseph as I fancied you did; but, however that may be, I ask you -to tell me how I had better behave to him. I am not at all sure that -if I take all hope away from him the blow would kill him; otherwise -you would not see me so easy. But he is ill, that's very true; and I -owe him great consideration. Here is where my friendship for him has -been loyal and sincere; and I have not been as coquettish as you -think for. For if it is true that I have, as you say, fifty lovers -in my own village, what advantage or amusement would it be to me to -follow the humblest of them all into these woods? I think, on the -contrary, that I deserve your good-will for having, as it seemed -right to do so, sacrificed without regret my lively friends to bring -comfort to a poor fellow who asked for my remembrance." - -Thérence, understanding at last that she was wrong, threw herself -into Brulette's arms, without making any excuses, but showing plainly -by tears and kisses that she was heartily sorry. - -They were sitting thus together when Huriel, followed by his mules, -preceded by his dogs, and mounted on his little horse, appeared at -the end of the path where we were. He came to bid us good-bye; but -nothing in his air or manner showed the grief of a man who seeks by -flight to cure a hopeless love. He seemed, on the contrary, cheerful -and content; and Brulette thought that Thérence had put him on the -list of her admirers only to give one reason more, good or bad, for -her vexation. She even tried to make him tell the real reason for -his departure; and when he pretended that it was pressing business, -which Thérence denied, urging him to stay, Brulette, rather piqued at -his coolness, reproached him with getting tired of his Berrichon -guests. He let himself be teased without making any change in his -plans; and this finally affronted Brulette, and led her to say,-- - -"As I may never see you again, Maître Huriel, don't you think you had -better return me the little token which you wear in your ear though -it does not belong to you?" - -"Yes, but it does," he answered. "It belongs to me as much as my ear -belongs to my head, for my sister gave it to me." - -"Your sister could not have given you what is either Joseph's or -mine." - -"My sister made her first communion just as you did, Brulette; and -when I returned your jewel to José she gave me hers. Ask her if that -isn't true." - -Thérence colored high, and Huriel laughed in his beard. Brulette -thought to herself that the most deceived of the three was Joseph, -who was probably wearing Thérence's silver heart round his neck as a -souvenir, while the muleteer was wearing the one she had given him. -She was resolved not to allow the fraud, so she said to Thérence: -"Dearest, I think the token José wears will bring him happiness, and -therefore he ought to keep it; but inasmuch as this one belongs to -you, I ask you to get it back from your brother, so as to make me a -present which will be extremely precious to me as coming from you." - -"I will give you anything else you ask of me," replied Thérence, "and -with all my heart too; but this thing does not belong to me. What is -given is given, and I don't think that Huriel would be willing to -give it back." - -"I will do so," said Huriel, quickly, "if Brulette requires it. Do -you demand it?" he added, turning to her. - -"Yes," said Brulette, who could not back down, though she regretted -her whim when she saw the hurt look of the muleteer. He at once -opened his earring and took off the token, which he gave to Brulette, -saying: "Be it as you please. I should be consoled for the loss of -my sister's gift if I could think you would neither give it away nor -exchange it." - -"The proof that I will do neither," said Brulette, fastening it on -Thérence's necklace, "is that I give it to her to keep. And as for -you, whose ear is now released of its weight, you do not need any -token to enable me to recognize you when you come again into our -parts." - -"That is very handsome of you to say," replied the muleteer; "but as -I only did my duty to Joseph, and as you now know all that you need -to know to make him happy, I shall not meddle any further in his -affairs. I suppose you will take him home with you, and I shall have -no further occasion to visit your country. Adieu, therefore, my -beautiful Brulette; I foretell all the blessings you deserve, and I -leave you now with my family, who will serve you while here and -conduct you home whenever you may wish to go." - -So saying, off he went, singing:-- - - "One mule, two mules, three mules, - On the mountain, don't you see them? - Hey, the devil! 'tis the band." - - -But his voice did not sound as steady as he tried to make it; and -Brulette, not feeling happy and wishing to escape the searching eyes -of Thérence, returned with us both to find Joseph. - - - - -FIFTEENTH EVENING. - -I shall not give you the history of all the days that we passed in -the forest. They differed little from one another. Joseph grew -better and better, and Thérence decided that it was wiser not to -destroy his hopes, sharing in Brulette's resolution to prevent him -from explaining his feelings. This was not difficult to manage, for -Joseph had vowed to himself that he would not declare his sentiments -till the moment came when he felt worthy of her notice. Brulette -must have made herself very seductive indeed to have dragged a word -of love out of him. To make doubly sure, she managed to avoid ever -being alone with him; and she kept Thérence so cleverly at her side -that the woodland nymph began to understand that she was really not -deceiving her and sincerely wished that she should manage the health -and the mind of the patient in all things. - -These three young people did not weary of each other's company. -Thérence sewed for Joseph, and Brulette, having made me buy her a -white handkerchief, set about scalloping and embroidering it for -Thérence, for she was very clever at such work, and it was really -marvellous that a country-girl could do such exquisitely fine -stitches. She even declared before Joseph and me that she was tired -of sewing and taking care of linen, so as to show that she did not -work for him, and to force him to thank Thérence, who was doing it so -assiduously. But just see how ungrateful men can be when their minds -are all upset by a woman! Joseph hardly looked at Thérence's -fingers, employed as they were in his service; his eyes were fixed on -Brulette's pretty hands, and you would really have thought that every -time she drew her needle he counted each stitch as a moment of -happiness. - -I wondered how love could fill his mind and occupy his whole time, -without his ever dreaming of making any use of his hands. As for me, -I tried peeling osier and making baskets, or plaiting rye-straw for -hats and bonnets, but for all that, at the end of forty-eight hours I -was so eaten up with ennui that I was fairly ill. Sunday is a fine -thing, for it brings a rest after six days' toil, but seven Sundays -in a week is too much for a man who is accustomed to make use of his -limbs. I might not have realized this if either of the girls had -bestowed any notice on me; indeed, the beautiful Thérence, with her -great eyes somewhat sunken in her head and the black mole at the -corner of her mouth, could easily have turned my head if she had -wanted to; but she was in no humor to think of anything but her one -idea. She talked little and laughed less, and if I tried the -slightest joking she looked at me with such an astonished air that I -lost all courage to make an explanation. - -So, after spending three or four days in fluttering with this -tranquil trio round the lodges and sitting with them in various -places in the woods, and having convinced myself that Brulette was -quite as safe in this country as in our own, I looked about me for -something to do, and finally asked the Head-Woodsman to allow me to -help him. He received my request very kindly, and I began to get -much amusement out of his company, when, unfortunately, I told him I -did not want to be paid, and was chopping wood only to get rid of the -time; on which his kind heart no longer compelled him to excuse my -blunders, and he began to let me see that there never was a more -exacting man than he in the matter of work. As his trade was not -mine and I did not even know how to use his tools, I provoked him by -my awkwardness, and I soon saw that he could scarcely restrain -himself from calling me a blockhead and imbecile; for his eyes -actually started from his head and the sweat rolled down his face. - -Not wishing to quarrel with a man who was so kind and agreeable in -other ways, I found employment with the sawyers, and they were -satisfied with me. But dear me! I soon learned what a dull thing -work is when it is nothing but an exercise for the body, and is not -joined to the idea of profit for one's self or others. - -Brulette said to me on the fourth day, "Tiennet, I see you are very -dull, and I don't deny that I am, too; but to-morrow is Sunday, and -we must invent some kind of amusement. I know that the foresters -meet in a pretty place, where the Head-Woodsman plays for them to -dance. Well, let us buy some wine and provisions and give them a -better Sunday than usual, and so do honor to our own country among -these strangers." - -I did as Brulette told me, and the next day we assembled on a pretty -bit of grass with all the forest workmen and several girls and women -of the neighborhood, whom Thérence invited for a dance. The -Head-Woodsman piped for us. His daughter, superb in her Bourbonnais -costume, was much complimented, which made no change in her dignified -manner. José, quite intoxicated by the charms of Brulette, who had -not forgotten to bring a little finery from home, and who bewitched -all eyes with her pretty face and her dainty ways, sat looking on at -the dancing. I busied myself in regaling the company with -refreshments, and as I wished to do things in good style, I had not -spared the money. The feast cost me three good silver crowns out of -my own pocket, but I never regretted it, for the company were pleased -with my hospitality. Everything went well, and they all said that -within the memory of man the woodland folk had never been so well -entertained. There was even a mendicant friar, who happened to come -along, and who, under pretext of begging for his convent, stuffed his -stomach as full and drank as much as any woodchopper of them all. -This amused me mightily, though it was at my expense, for it was the -first time I had seen a Carmelite drink, and I had always heard tell -that in the matter of crooking their elbows they were the best men in -Christendom. - -I was just re-filling his glass, astonished that I didn't intoxicate -him, when the dancers fell into confusion and a great uproar arose. -I went out of the little arbor which I had made, and where I received -the thirsty crowd, to know what had happened; and there I saw a troop -of three or perhaps four hundred mules following a _clairin_ which -had taken it into its head to go through the assembly, and was being -pushed, and kicked, and frightened, till it darted right and left -among the people; while the mules, who are obstinate beasts, very -strong-boned and accustomed to follow the _clairin_, pressed on -through the dancers, caring little for blows and kicks, jostling -those in their way, and behaving as if they were in a field of -thistles. The animals did not go so fast, laden as they were, but -what the people had time to get out of their way. No one was hurt, -but some of the lads, excited by dancing and provoked at being -interrupted, stamped and shouted so vociferously that the scene was -most amusing to behold, and the Head-Woodsman stopped piping to hold -his sides with laughter. - -Presently, knowing the musical call which collects the mules, and -which I knew too, having heard it in the forest of Saint-Chartier, -Père Bastien sounded it in the usual manner; and when the _clairin_ -and his followers trotted up and surrounded the cask on which he was -seated, he laughed more than ever to see a troup of black beasts -dancing round him instead of the late gala company. - -Brulette, however, who escaped from the confusion and took refuge -with Joseph and me, seemed terrified, and did not take it as a joke. - -"What is the matter?" I said to her. "Perhaps it is friend Huriel -who has come back for a dance with you." - -"No, no!" she answered. "Thérence, who knows her brother's mules, -says there is not one of his in the troop; besides, that's not his -horse nor his dog. I am afraid of all muleteers except Huriel, and I -wish we could get away from here." - -As she spoke, we saw some twenty muleteers coming out of the -surrounding forest. They presently called off their beasts and stood -round to see the dancing. I reassured Brulette; for in full day and -in sight of so many people I knew there was nothing to fear. Only I -told her not to go away far from me, and then I returned to the -arbor, where I saw the muleteers were about to help themselves -without ceremony. - -As they shouted out, "To drink! something to drink!" like folks in a -tavern, I told them civilly that I did not sell my wine, but that if -they asked for it politely I should be happy to give them the loving -cup. - -"Then it is a wedding?" said the tallest of them, whom I recognized -by his fair skin as the leader of those we had met so unluckily in -the woods of La Roche. - -"Wedding or not," I replied, "it is I who give the feast, and with -all my heart to those I please; but--" - -He did not leave me time to finish before he answered, "We have no -rights here,--you are the master; thank you for your good intentions, -but you don't know us, and you had better keep your wine for your -friends." - -He said a few words to the others in their own dialect and led them -to a place apart, where they sat down and ate their own suppers very -quietly. The Head-Woodsman went to speak with them, and showed much -regard for their leader, named Archignat, who was considered an -upright man,--as far as a muleteer can be one. - -Among those present were several who could play the bagpipe,--not -like Père Bastien, who hadn't his equal in the world, and could make -the stones dance and the old oaks curtsey if he liked,--but much -better than Carnat and his son. So the bagpipe changed hands until -it reached those of the muleteer chief Archignat; while the -Head-Woodsman, whose heart and body were still young, went to dance -with his daughter, of whom he was just as proud--and with as good -right, too--as Père Brulet was of his. - -But just as he was calling Brulette to come and be his vis-à-vis, a -rascally fellow, coming from I don't know where, endeavored to take -her hand. Though it was getting dusk, Brulette recognized him as the -man who had threatened us in the woods of La Roche, and had even -talked of killing her protectors and burying them under a tree that -could tell no tales. Fear and horror made her refuse him quickly and -press back against me, who, having exhausted all my provisions, was -just going to dance with her. - -"The girl promised me this dance," I said to the muleteer, seeing he -was determined to get her; "find some one else." - -"Very good," he said; "but after this set with you, my turn will -come." - -"No," said Brulette, hastily, "I would rather never dance again." - -"That's what we shall see!" he exclaimed, following us to the dance, -where he remained standing behind us, and criticising us, I think, in -his own language. Every time Brulette passed him he gave vent to -language which, from the expression of his bad eyes, I judged to be -insolent. - -"Wait till I have finished dancing," I said, punching him as I -passed; "I'll settle your bill for you in language your back shall -understand." - -But when the dance was over I could not find him anywhere, he had -hidden himself so carefully. Brulette, seeing what a coward he was, -got over her fright and danced with the others, who paid her very -pretty respect; but just as I ceased for a moment to watch her, the -scoundrel came back and took her from the midst of a number of young -girls, forcing her into the middle of the dance, and taking advantage -of the darkness which hid her resistance, tried to embrace her. At -that moment I ran up, not seeing clearly, but thinking I heard -Brulette call me. I had no time to do justice on the man myself, for -before his blackened face had touched hers the fellow received such a -blow on the nape of his neck that his eyes must have bulged like -those of a rat pinned in a trap. - -Brulette, thinking the help came from me, threw herself into her -defender's arms, and was much amazed to find herself in those of -Huriel. - -I tried to take advantage of the fact that our friend had his arms -full, to seize the scoundrel myself; and I would have paid him all I -owed him if the company had not interfered between us. As the man -now assailed us with words, calling us cowards because we had -attacked him two to one, the music stopped; the crowd gathered about -the scene of the quarrel, and the Head-Woodsman came up with -Archignat,--one forbidding the muleteers, and the other the -woodcutters and sawyers, from taking part in the affair until the -meaning of it were known. - -Malzac--that was our enemy's name (and he had a tongue as venomous as -an adder's)--made his statement first, declaring that he had civilly -invited the Berrichon girl to dance; that in kissing her he had only -used his right and followed the custom of the dance, and that two of -the girl's lovers, to wit, Huriel and I, had unfairly attacked him -together and foully struck him. - -"That is false," I replied. "It is a lasting regret to me that I did -not belabor the man who has just addressed you; but the truth is I -arrived too late to touch him in any way, fair or foul; for the -people round withheld my arm as I was going to strike. I tell you -the thing as it happened; but give me a chance, and I will make true, -what he has said!" - -"As for me," said Huriel, "I took him by the neck as you would a -hare, but without striking him, and it is not my fault if his clothes -didn't protect his skin. But I owe him a better lesson, and I came -here to-night to find an opportunity to give it. Therefore, I demand -of Maître Archignat, my chief, and of Maître Bastien, my father, to -be heard at once, or directly after this fête is over, and to receive -justice if my claim is recognized as good." - -On this the mendicant friar came forward and began to preach peace; -but he had too much of the good Bourbon wine in his head to manage -his tongue, and he couldn't make himself heard in the uproar. - -"Silence!" cried the Head-Woodsman, in a voice that would have -drowned the thunder of heaven. "Stand back all of you, and let us -manage our own affairs; you can listen if you like, but you have no -voice in this chapter. Stand here, muleteers, for Malzac and Huriel. -And here stand I, and the men of the forest, as sponsors and judges -for this youth of Berry. Speak, Tiennet, and bring your charge. -What have you against this muleteer? If it be true that he kissed -your compatriot in the dance I know that such is the custom in your -part of the country as well as in our own. That is not reason enough -even to think of striking a man. Tell us the cause of your anger -against him; that is where we must begin." - -I did not need urging, and although such an assemblage of muleteers -and foresters caused me some embarrassment, I managed to oil my -tongue sufficiently to tell, in a proper manner, the story of what -happened in the woods of La Roche; and I claimed the testimony of -chief Archignat himself, to whom I did justice, even more perhaps -than he deserved; but I saw very well that I must not throw any blame -on him if I wished to have him favorable to me; and in this way I -proved to him that Berrichons are not greater fools than other -people, nor any easier to put in the wrong. - -The company, who had already formed a good opinion of Brulette and -me, blamed Malzac's conduct; but the Head-Woodsman again commanded -silence, and addressing Maître Archignat, demanded to know if there -were anything false in my statement. - -The tall red-haired chief was a shrewd and prudent man. His face was -as white as a sheet, and no matter what annoyance he felt, he never -seemed to have a drop more or a drop less of blood in his body. His -parti-colored eyes were soft and not deceitful in expression; but his -mouth, partly hidden by his red beard, smiled every now and then with -a silly air which concealed a fund of intelligent malevolence. He -did not like Huriel, though he behaved as if he did, and he was -generally considered an honest man. In reality, he was the greatest -pillager of them all, and his conscience set the interests of his -fraternity above every other consideration. They had chosen him -chief on account of his cool-bloodedness, which enabled him to act by -stratagem and thus save the band from quarrels and legal proceedings, -in which indeed he was considered as clever as a lawyer's clerk. - -He made no answer to the Head-Woodsman's question,--whether from -caution or stupidity it was impossible to say; for the more his -attention was roused, the more he looked like a man who was -half-asleep and did not hear what was said to him. He merely made a -sign to Huriel as if to ask if the testimony he was going to give -would agree with his own. But Huriel who, without being sly, was as -cautious as he, answered: "Master, you are appealed to as witness by -this young man. If it please you to corroborate him, I am not needed -to corroborate you; and if you think fit to blame him, the customs of -our fraternity forbid me to contradict you. No one here has anything -to do with our affairs. If Malzac has been to blame I know -beforehand that you will blame him. My affair is a totally different -matter. In the dispute we had together before you in the woods of La -Roche, the cause of which I am not obliged to reveal, Malzac told me -three times that I lied, and he threatened me personally. I don't -know if you heard him, but I declare it on my oath; and as I was then -insulted and dishonored I now claim the right of battle according to -the rules of our order." - -Archignat consulted the other muleteers in a low voice, and it -appeared that they all sustained Huriel, for they formed a ring, and -the chief uttered one word only, "Go!" on which Malzac and Huriel -advanced and faced each other. - -I tried to put myself forward, declaring it was for me to revenge my -cousin, and that my complaint was of more importance than that of -Huriel; but Archignat shoved me aside, saying: "If Huriel is beaten, -you can come forward; but if Malzac goes down you must be satisfied -with what you have seen done." - -"The women will retire!" cried the Head-Woodsman, "they are out of -place here." - -He was pale as he said it, but he did not flinch from the danger his -son was about to meet. - -"They can retire if they choose," said Thérence, who was pale, too, -but quite as firm as he. "I must remain for my brother; he may need -me to stanch his blood." - -Brulette, more dead than alive, implored Huriel and me not to go on -with the quarrel; but it was too late to listen to her. I gave her -to Joseph's care, and he took her to a distance, while I laid aside -my jacket to be ready to revenge Huriel if he fell. - -I had no idea what sort of fight it would be, and I watched it -carefully, so as not to be taken unawares when my turn should come. -They had lighted two pine torches and had measured, by pacing, the -space to which the combatants should be confined. Each was furnished -with a holly stick, short and knotted, and the Head-Woodsman assisted -Archignat in making these preparations with a calmness which was not -in his heart and which it grieved me to see. - -Malzac, who was short and thin, was not as strong as Huriel, but he -was quicker in his movements and knew better how to fight; for -Huriel, though skilful with the stick, was so kindly in temper that -he had seldom had occasion to use it. All this passed through my -mind during the few moments in which they were feeling each other's -strength; and I confess my heart thumped within me, as much from fear -for Huriel as from anger against his enemy. - -For two or three minutes, which seemed to me hours by the clock, not -a blow reached its aim, each being well parried on either side; -presently, however, we began to hear that the sticks no longer struck -wood, and the muffled sound they made falling on flesh gave me a cold -sweat. In our part of the country we never fight under rules except -with fists, and I own that my feelings were not hardened enough to -stand the idea of split heads and broken jaws. I felt disgust, -anger, and pity for the whole thing, and yet I watched with open -mouth and eyes to lose nothing of it; for the wind blew the flame of -the torches, and sometimes nothing more than a hazy light surrounded -the combatants. Suddenly, however, one of the two gave a moan like -that of a tree cut in two by a blast of wind, and rolled in the dust. - -Which was it? I could not see, for the dazzles were in my eyes, but -I heard Thérence exclaim,-- - -"Thank God, my brother has won!" - -I began to see again. Huriel was standing erect, waiting, like a -fair fighter, to see if his adversary rose, but not approaching him, -for fear of some treachery, of which he knew the man capable. - -But Malzac did not rise, and Archignat, forbidding the others to -move, called him three times. No answer being given he advanced -towards him, saying,-- - -"Malzac, it is I, don't touch me." - -Malzac appeared to have no desire to do so,--he lay as still as a -stone; and the chief stooping over him, touched him, looked at him, -and then called two of the muleteers by name and said to them:-- - -"The game is up with him; do what there is to do." - -They immediately took him by the feet and head and disappeared at -full speed in the forest, followed by the other muleteers, who -prevented all who did not belong to their fraternity from making any -inquiry as to the result of the affair. Maître Archignat was the -last to go, after saying a word to the Head-Woodsman, who replied,-- - -"That's enough; adieu." - -Thérence had fastened on her brother, and was wiping the perspiration -from his face with a handkerchief, asking him if he was wounded, and -trying to detain him and examine him. But he, too, whispered in her -ear, and she at once replied,-- - -"Yes, yes--adieu!" - -Huriel then took Archignat's arm, and the pair disappeared in the -darkness; for, as they went, they knocked over the torches, and I -felt for a moment as if I were in the act of waking out of an ugly -dream, full of lights and noises, into the silence and thick darkness -of the night. - - - - -SIXTEENTH EVENING. - -However, I began to see clearly, little by little, and my feet, whose -soles had seemed pegged to the ground, followed the Head-Woodsman in -the direction of the lodges. I was much surprised to find that there -was no one there but his daughter, Brulette, Joseph, and three or -four old men who had been at the fight. All the others, it appeared, -had run away when they saw the sticks produced, to avoid giving -witness in a court of justice if the matter ended fatally. These -woodland people never betray each other, and to escape being summoned -and harassed by the law, they manage so as to see nothing and have -nothing to say. The Head-Woodsman spoke to the old men in their own -language, and I saw them go back to the place where the fight -occurred, without understanding what they intended to do there. -Meantime I followed Joseph and the women, and we reached the lodges -without saying a word to each other. - -As for me, I had been so shaken in mind that I did not want to talk. -When we entered the lodge and sat down we were all as white as if we -were afraid. The Head-Woodsman, who soon joined us, sat down too, -evidently in deep thought, with his eyes fixed to the earth. -Brulette, who had compelled herself not to ask questions, was crying -in a corner; Joseph, as if worn out with fatigue, had thrown himself -at full length on a pile of dried ferns; Thérence alone came and -went, and prepared the beds for the night; but her teeth were set, -and when she tried to speak she stammered. - -After a while the Head-Woodsman rose and looking round upon us said: -"Well, my children, after all, what is it? A lesson has been given, -and justly given, to a bad man, known everywhere for his evil -conduct,--a man who abandoned his wife and let her die of grief and -poverty. Malzac has long disgraced the fraternity of muleteers, and -if he were to die no one would regret him. Must we make ourselves -unhappy because Huriel gave him a few hard blows in honest battle? -Why do you cry, Brulette? Have you such a soft heart that you are -shedding tears for the beaten man? Do you not think that my son was -right to defend your honor and his own? He had told me all that -happened in the woods of La Roche, and I knew that out of prudent -regard for your safety he refrained from punishing that man at the -time. He even hoped that Tiennet would have said nothing about it -to-night, so that the cause might never be known. But I, who never -approve of concealing the truth, allowed Tiennet to say what he -liked. I am well-pleased that he was prevented from entering a fight -which is most dangerous for those who do not understand the passes. -I am also well-pleased that victory was with my son; for as between -an honest man and a bad man, my heart would have gone with the honest -man even if he were not blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh. And -so let us thank God, who judged the right, and ask him to be ever -with us, in this and in all things." - -The Head-Woodsman knelt down and offered the evening prayer; which -comforted and tranquillized every one of us. Then we separated in -hearty friendship to seek some rest. - -It was not long before I heard the Head-Woodsman, whose little -chamber I shared, snoring loudly, in spite of the anxiety he had -undergone. But in his daughter's room Brulette was still crying, -unable to recover herself, and evidently ill. I heard her talking to -Thérence, and so, not from curiosity but out of pity for her trouble, -I put my ear to the partition to hear what I could. - -"Come, come," Thérence was saying, in decided tones, "stop crying and -you will go to sleep. Tears won't do any good, and, as I told you, I -must go; if you wake my father, who does not know he is wounded, he -will want to go too, and that may compromise him in this bad -business; whereas for me, I risk nothing." - -"You terrify me, Thérence; how can you go alone among those -muleteers? They frighten me badly enough, but you must let me go -with you; I ought to, for I was the cause of the fight. Let us call -Tiennet--" - -"No, no! neither you nor him! The muleteers won't regret Malzac if -he should die,--quite the reverse; but if he had been injured by any -one not belonging to their own body, especially a stranger, your -friend Tiennet would be in the greatest danger. Let him sleep; it is -enough that he tried to meddle in the affair to make it important -that he should keep quiet now. As for you, Brulette, you would be -very ill-received; you have not, as I have, a family interest to take -you there. No one among them would attempt to injure me; they all -know me, and they are not afraid to let me into their secrets." - -"But do you think you will still find them in the forest? Did not -your father say they were going to the uplands, and would not spend -the night in this neighborhood?" - -"They must wait long enough to dress the wounds. But if I do not -find them I shall be all the more easy; for it will prove that my -brother is not seriously hurt, and that he could start with them at -once." - -"Did you see his wound? tell me, dear Thérence, don't hide anything -from me." - -"I did not see it,--no one saw it; he said he was not hurt, and did -not even think of himself. But see, Brulette,--only don't cry -out,--here is the handkerchief with which, as I thought, I wiped the -perspiration from his face. When I got back here I found it was -saturated with blood; and I had to gather all my courage to hide my -feelings from my father, who is very anxious, and from Joseph, who is -really ill." - -Then came silence, as if Brulette, taking or gazing at the -handkerchief, was choking. Presently Thérence said: "Give it back to -me; I must wash it in the first brook I come to." - -"Ah, no!" said Brulette, "let me keep it; I'll hide it safely." - -"No, my dear," replied Thérence; "if the authorities get wind of the -battle they will come and rummage every place here,--they will even -search our persons. They have grown very annoying of late; they want -us to give up our old customs, which are dying out of themselves, -without their meddling in the matter." - -"Alas!" said Brulette, "isn't it to be wished that the custom of -these dangerous fights should be given up?" - -"Yes, but that depends on many things which the officers of the law -cannot or will not do. For instance, they ought to do justice, and -that they never do except to those who have the means to pay for it. -Is it different in your parts? You don't know? well, I will bet it -is the same thing there. Only, the Berrichon blood is sluggish, and -your people are patient under the wrongs done them, and so they don't -expose themselves to worse. Here it is not so. A man who lives in -the forest could not live at all if he did not defend himself against -bad men as he would against wolves and other dangerous beasts. -Surely you don't blame my brother for having demanded justice of his -own people for an insult and a threat he was made to endure before -you? Perhaps you are slightly to blame in the matter; think of that, -Brulette, before you blame him. If you had not shown such anger and -fear at the insults of that muleteer he might have overlooked those -to himself, for there never was a gentler man than Huriel or one more -ready to forgive; but you held yourself insulted, Huriel promised you -reparation, and he kept his word. I am not reproaching you, nor him -either; I might have been just as sensitive as you, and as for him, -he only did his duty." - -"No, no!" said Brulette, beginning to cry again; "He ought not to -have exposed himself for me, and I was very wrong to show such pride. -I shall never forgive myself if any harm, no matter what, comes to -him; and you and your father, who have been so good to me, can never -forgive me either." - -"Don't fret about that," replied Thérence. "Whatever happens is -God's will, and you will never be blamed by us. I know you now, -Brulette; I know that you deserve respect. Come, dry your eyes and -go to sleep. I hope I shall bring you back good news, and I am -certain my brother will be consoled and half-cured if you will let me -tell him how sorry you are for his wound." - -"I think," said Brulette, "that he will think more of your regard, -for there is no woman in the world he could ever love like his own -good and brave sister. And, Thérence, that is why I am sorry I made -you ask him for that token, and if he had a fancy to have it back, I -dare say you would give it to him." - -"That's right, Brulette," cried Thérence; "I kiss you for those -words. Sleep in peace, I am off." - -"I shall not sleep," replied Brulette; "I shall pray to God to help -you till I see you safe back again." - -I heard Thérence softly leave the lodge, and a minute later I also -went out. I could not bring my conscience to allow a beautiful girl -to expose herself all alone to the dangers of the night; nor could I, -out of fear for myself, withhold what power I had to give her -assistance. The people she was going to seek did not seem to me such -gentle and good Christians as she made them out to be, and besides, -perhaps they were not the only ones in the wood that night. Our -dance had attracted beggars, and we know that folks who ask charity -don't always show it to others when occasion offers. Moreover,--and -I am sure I don't know why,--the red and shining face of the -Carmelite friar, who had paid such attention to my wine, kept coming -into my head. He struck me as not lowering his eyes very much when -he passed near the girls, and I hadn't noticed what became of him in -the general hullaballoo. - -But Thérence had declared to Brulette that she did not want my -company in her search for the muleteers; so, not wishing to displease -her, I determined not to let her see me, and to follow her only -within hearing, in case she had occasion to cry for help. -Accordingly, I let her get about a minute in advance, not more, -though I would have liked to stay and tranquillize Brulette by -telling her my plan. I was, however, afraid to delay and so lose the -trail of the woodland beauty. - -I saw her cross the open and enter a copse which sloped toward the -bed of a brook, not far from the lodges. I entered after her, by the -same path, and as there were numerous turns, I soon lost sight of -her; but I heard the sound of her light step, which every now and -then broke a dead branch, or rolled a pebble. She seemed to be -walking rapidly, and I did the same, to prevent her getting too far -in advance of me. Two or three times I thought I was so near her -that I slackened my pace in order that she might not see me. We came -thus to one of the roads which lead through the woods; but the shadow -of the tall trees was so dense that I, looking from right to left, -was unable to see anything that indicated which way she had gone. - -I listened, ear to earth, and I heard in the path, which continued -across the road, the same breaking of branches which had already -guided me. I hastened forward till I reached another road which led -down to the brook; there I began to fear I had lost trace of her, for -the brook was wide and the bank muddy, and I saw no sign of -footsteps. There is nothing so deceiving as the paths of a wood. In -some places the trees stand so that one fancies there must be a path; -or perhaps wild animals going to water have beaten out a track; and -then all of a sudden we find ourselves tangled in underbrush, or -sinking in such a bog that it is useless trying to go further. - -However, I persisted, because I still heard the noise before me, and -it was so distinct that finally I began to run, tearing my clothes in -the brambles, and plunging deeper and deeper into the thicket, when -suddenly a savage growl let me know that the creature I was pursuing -was a boar, which was beginning to be annoyed by my company, and -wished to show that he had had enough of it. Having no weapon but a -stick, and not knowing how to deal with that kind of beast, I turned -round and retraced my steps, rather uneasy lest the boar should take -it into his head to accompany me. Fortunately, he did not think of -it, and I returned as far as the first road, where by mere chance I -took the direction which led to the entrance of the woods of -Chambérat, where we had held the fête. - -Though baffled, I did not choose to renounce my search; for Thérence -might meet some wild beast, as I had, and I didn't believe she knew -any language that that kind of enemy would listen to. I already knew -enough of the forest not to get lost for any length of time, and I -soon reached the place where we had danced. It took me a few moments -to be certain that it was the same open, for I expected to find my -arbor, with the utensils which I had not had time to carry away; but -the place where I left it was as smooth as if it had never been -there. Nevertheless, searching carefully, I found the holes where I -had driven in the stakes, and the place where the feet of the dancers -had worn off the turf. - -I wanted to find the spot where the muleteers had disappeared leading -Huriel and carrying Malzac, but try as I would, I had been so -confused in mind just then that I could not recall it. So I was -forced to advance haphazard, and I marched in that way all -night,--weary enough, as you may suppose, stopping often to listen, -and hearing nothing but the owls hooting in the branches, or some -poor hare who was more afraid of me than I of him. - -Though the Chambérat wood was really at that time joined to those of -Alleu, I did not know it, having only entered it once since coming to -that part of the country. I soon got lost; which did not trouble me, -however, because I knew that neither wood was extensive enough to -reach to Rome. Besides, the Head-Woodsman had already taught me to -take my bearings, not by the stars, which are not always to be seen -in a forest, but by the bend of the leading branches, which, in our -midland provinces, are lashed by north-westerly winds and lean -permanently toward the east. - -The night was very clear, and so warm that if I had not been goaded -by worry of mind and fatigued in body, I should have enjoyed the -walk. It was not moonlight, but the stars shone in a cloudless sky, -and I saw my way quite plainly even under the foliage. I was much -improved in courage since the time when I was so frightened in the -little forest of Saint-Chartier; for, although I knew I was going -wrong, I felt as easy as if on our own roads, and when I saw that the -animals ran away from me, I had no anxiety at all. I began to see -how it was that these covered glades, these brooks murmuring in the -ravines, the soft herbage, the sandy paths, and the trees of splendid -growth and lofty pride made this region dear to those who belonged to -it. There were certain large wild-flowers the name of which I did -not know, something like a foxglove, white with yellow spots, the -perfume of which was so keen and delicious that I could almost have -fancied myself in a garden. - -Keeping steadily toward the west, I struck the heath and skirted the -edge of it, listening and looking about me. But I saw no signs of -human beings, and about daybreak I began to return toward the lodges -without finding Thérence or anybody else. I had had enough of it, -and seeing that I could not make myself useful, I tried a short cut -through the woods, where, in a very wild place, beneath a large oak, -I saw something which seemed to me a person. Day was beginning to -light up the bushes, and I walked noiselessly forward till I -recognized the brown garment of the Carmelite friar. The poor man, -whom in my heart I had suspected, was virtuously and devoutly on his -knees, saying his prayers without thought of evil. - -I coughed as I approached, to let him know I was there and not to -frighten him; but there was no need of that, for the monk was a -worthy soul who feared none but God,--neither devil nor man. He -raised his head and looked at me without surprise; then burying his -face in his cowl he went on muttering his orisons, and I could see -nothing but the end of his beard, which jerked up and down as he -spoke, like that of a goat munching salt. - -When he seemed to have finished, I bade him good-morning, hoping to -get some news out of him, but he made me a sign to hold my tongue; -then he rose, picked up his wallet, looked carefully at the place -where he had been kneeling, and with his bare feet poked up the grass -and levelled the sand he had disturbed; after which he led me to a -little distance, and said in a muffled voice:-- - -"Inasmuch as you know all about it, I am not sorry to talk to you -before I go on my way." - -Finding he was inclined to talk, I took care not to question him, -which might have made him mistrustful; but just as he was opening his -mouth to speak, Huriel appeared, and seemed so surprised and even -annoyed to see me that I was greatly embarrassed, as if I had in some -way done wrong. - -I must also remark that Huriel would probably have frightened me if I -had met him alone in the gloom of the morning. He was more daubed -with black than I had ever seen him, and a cloth bound round his head -hid his hair and his forehead, so that all one saw of his face was -his big eyes, which seemed sunken and as if they had lost their usual -fire. In fact, he looked like his own spirit rather than his own -body, and he glided gently upon the heather as if he feared to awaken -even the crickets and the gnats which were asleep in it. - -The monk was the first to speak; not as a man who accosts another, -but as one who continues a conversation after a break in it. - -"As he is here," he said, pointing to me, "it is best to give him -some useful instructions, and I was on the point of telling him--" - -"As you have told him everything--" began Huriel, cutting him short -with a reproachful look. - -Here I, in turn, interrupted Huriel to tell him I knew nothing as -yet, and that he was free to conceal what he was just going to say. - -"That's all right in you," replied Huriel, "not to seek to know more -than you need; but if this is the way, Brother Nicolas, that you keep -a secret of such importance, I am sorry I ever trusted you." - -"Fear nothing," said the Carmelite. "I thought the young man was -compromised with you." - -"He is not compromised at all, thank God!" said Huriel; "one is -enough!" - -"So much the better for him if he only sinned by intention," replied -the monk. "He is your friend, and you have nothing to fear. But as -for me, I should be glad if he would tell no one that I passed the -night in these woods." - -"What harm could that do you?" asked Huriel. "A muleteer met with an -accident; you succored him, and thanks to you, he will soon be well. -Who can blame you for that charity?" - -"True, true," said the monk. "Keep the phial and use the stuff twice -a day. Wash the wound carefully in running water as often as you can -do so; don't let the hair stick in the wound, and keep it covered -from dust; that is all that is necessary. If you have any fever get -yourself well bled by the first friar you meet." - -"Thank you," said Huriel, "but I have lost enough blood as it is, and -I think we can never have too much. May you be rewarded, my brother, -for your kind help, which I did not greatly need, but for which I am -none the less grateful. And now permit us to say good-bye, for it is -daylight and your prayers have detained you here too long." - -"No doubt," answered the monk, "but will you let me depart without a -word of confession? I have cured your flesh,--that was the first -thing to be done; but is your conscience in any better state? Do you -think you have no need of absolution, which is to the soul what that -balsam is to the body?" - -"I have great need of it, my father," said Huriel, "but you would do -wrong to give it to me; I am not worthy to receive it until I have -done penance. As to my confession, you do not need to hear it, for -you saw me commit a mortal sin. Pray God for me; that is what I ask -of you, and see that many masses are said for the soul of--those who -let anger get the better of them." - -I thought at first he was joking; but I knew better when I saw the -money he gave to the friar, and heard the sad tone of his last words. - -"Be sure you shall receive according to your generosity," said the -friar putting the money in his wallet. Then he added, in a tone in -which there was nothing hypocritical: "Maître Huriel, we are all -sinners and there is but one just judge. He alone, who has never -sinned, has the right to condemn or to absolve the faults of men. -Commit yourself to him, and be sure that whatever there is to your -credit he will in his mercy place to your account. As for the judges -of earth, very foolish and very cowardly would he be who would send -you before them, for they are weak or hardened creatures. Repent, -for you have cause to, but do not betray yourself; and when you feel -that grace is calling you to a confession of repentance go to some -good priest, though he may only be a poor barefooted Carmelite like -Brother Nicolas. And you, my son," added the good man, who felt in a -preaching mood and wanted to sprinkle me too with his holy water, -"learn to moderate your appetites and conquer your passions. Avoid -occasions for sin; flee from quarrels and bloody encounters--" - -"That will do, that will do, Brother Nicolas," interrupted Huriel. -"You are preaching to a believer, you need not call a man with pure -hands to repentance. Farewell. Go, I tell you; it is high time." - -The monk departed, after shaking hands with us kindly and with a -great air of frankness. When he had got to a distance Huriel, taking -me by the arm, led me back to the tree where I had found the monk in -prayer. - -"Tiennet," he said, "I have no distrust of you, and if I compelled -the good friar to hold his tongue it was only to make him cautious. -However, there is no danger from him. He is own uncle to our chief -Archignat, and he is, moreover, a safe man, always on good terms with -the muleteers, who often help him to carry the provisions he collects -from one place to another. But though I am not afraid of you or of -him, it does not follow that I should tell you what you have no need -to know, unless you make it a test of my friendship." - -"You shall do as you like," I answered. "If it is useful for you -that I should know the results of your fight with Malzac, tell me, -even though I may deeply regret to hear them; if not, I would just as -soon not know what has become of him." - -"What has become of him!" echoed Huriel, whose voice was choked by -some great distress. He stopped me when we reached the first -branches which the oak stretched toward us, as if he feared to tread -upon a spot where I saw no trace of what I was beginning to guess. -Then he added, casting a look black with gloom before him, and -speaking as if something were forcing him to betray himself: -"Tiennet, do you remember the threatening words that man said to us -in the woods of La Roche?--'There is no lack of ditches in the forest -to bury fools in, and the stones and the trees have no tongues to -tell what they see.'" - -"Yes," I answered, feeling a cold sweat creeping over my whole body. -"It seems that evil words tempt fate, and bring disaster to those who -say them." - - - - -SEVENTEENTH EVENING. - -Huriel crossed himself and sighed. I did as he did, and then turning -from the accursed tree we went our way. - -I wished, as the friar did, to say a few comforting words to him, for -I saw that his mind was troubled; but, besides being a poor hand at -moralizing, I felt guilty myself after a fashion. I knew, for -instance, that if I had not related aloud the affair that happened in -the woods of La Roche, Huriel might not have remembered his promise -to Brulette to avenge her; and that if I had not been in such a hurry -to be the first to defend her in presence of the muleteers and the -foresters, Huriel would not have been so eager to get that honor -before me in her eyes. - -Worried by these thoughts, I could not help telling them to Huriel -and blaming myself to him, just as Brulette had blamed herself to -Thérence. - -"My dear friend Tiennet," replied the muleteer, "you are a good -fellow with a good heart. Don't trouble your conscience for a thing -which God, in the day of judgment, will not lay at your door, perhaps -not at mine. Brother Nicolas is right, God is the only judge who -renders just judgment, for he alone knows things as they are. He -needs no witnesses and makes no inquiry into the truth. He reads all -hearts; he knows that mine has never sworn nor sought the death of a -man, even at the moment when I took that stick to punish the -evil-doer. Those weapons are bad, but they are the only ones which -our customs allow us to use in such cases, and I am not responsible -for their use. Certainly a fight with fists alone would be far -better,--such as you and I had that night in your field, all about my -mules and your oats. But let me tell you that a muleteer is bound to -be as brave and jealous for his honor as any of the great lords who -bear the sword. If I had swallowed Malzac's insults without -demanding reparation I should deserve to be expelled from our -fraternity. It is true that I did not demand it coolly, as I ought -to have done. I had met Malzac alone that morning, in that same wood -of La Roche, where I was quietly at work without thinking of him. He -again annoyed me with foolish language, declaring that Brulette was -nothing better than a dried-wood picker, which means, with us, a -ghost that walks by night,--a superstition which often helps girls of -bad lives to escape recognition, for good people are afraid of these -ghosts. So, among muleteers, who are not as credulous, the term is -very insulting. Nevertheless, I bore with him as long as possible, -until at last, driven to extremities, I threatened him in order to -drive him away. He replied that I was a coward, capable of attacking -him in a lonely place, but that I dared not challenge him to open -fight with sticks before witnesses; that everybody knew I had never -had occasion to show my courage, for when I was in company of others -I always agreed with what they said so as not to be obliged to -measure swords with them. Then he left me, saying there was a dance -in the woods of Chambérat, and that Brulette gave a supper to the -company; for which she had ample means, as she was the mistress of a -rich tradesman in her own country; and, for his part, he should go -and amuse himself by courting the girl, in defiance of me if I had -courage to go and see him do it. You know, Tiennet, that I intended -never to see Brulette again, and that for reasons which I will tell -you later." - -"I know them," said I; "and I see that your sister met you to-night; -for here, hanging to your ear below the bandage, is a token which -proves something I had strongly suspected." - -"If it is that I love Brulette and value her token," replied Huriel, -"you know all that I know myself; but you cannot know more, for I am -not even sure of her friendship, and as for anything else--but that's -neither here nor there. I want to tell you the ill-luck that brought -me back here. I did not wish Brulette to see me, neither did I mean -to speak to her, because I saw the misery Joseph endured on my -account. But I knew Joseph had not the strength to protect her, and -that Malzac was shrewd and tricky enough to escape you. So I came at -the beginning of the dance, and kept out of sight under the trees, -meaning to depart without being seen, if Malzac did not make his -appearance. You know the rest until the moment when we took the -sticks. At that moment I was angry, I confess it, but it couldn't -have been otherwise unless I were a saint in Paradise. And yet my -only thought was to give a lesson to my enemy, and to stop him from -saying, especially while Brulette was here, that because I was gentle -and patient I was timid as a hare. You saw that my father, sick of -such talk, did not object to my proving myself a man; but there! -ill-luck surely pursues me, when in my first fight and almost at my -first blow--ah! Tiennet, there is no use saying I was driven into -it, or that I feel within me kind and humane; that is no consolation -for having a fatal hand. A man is a man, no matter how foul-mouthed -and ill-behaved he be. There was little or no good in that one, but -he might have mended, and I have sent him to his account before he -had come to repentance. Tiennet, I am sick of a muleteer's life; I -agree with Brulette that it is not easy for a God-fearing man to be -one of them and maintain his own conscience and the respect of -others. I am obliged to stay in the craft for some time longer, -owing to engagements which I have made; but you may rely upon it, I -shall give up the business as soon as possible, and find another that -is quiet and decent." - -"That is what you want me to tell Brulette, isn't it?" I said. - -"No," replied Huriel, with much decision, "not unless Joseph gets -over his love and his illness so entirely as to give her up. I love -Joseph as much as you all love him; besides, he told me his secret, -and asked my advice and support; I will not deceive him, nor -undermine him." - -"But Brulette does not want him as a lover or a husband, and perhaps -he had better know it as soon as possible. I'll take upon myself to -reason with him, if the others dare not, for there is somebody in -your house who could make Joseph happy, and he never could be happy -with Brulette. The longer he waits and the more he flatters himself -she will love him, the harder the blow will seem; instead of which, -if he opens his eyes to the true attachment he might find elsewhere--" - -"Never mind that," said Huriel, frowning slightly, which made him -look like a man who was suffering from a great hole in his head, -which in fact there was under the bloody handkerchief. "All things -are in God's hand, and in our family nobody is in a hurry to make his -own happiness at the expense of others. As for me, I must go, for I -could make no lying answer to those who might ask me where Malzac is -and why no one sees him any more. Listen, however, to another thing -about Joseph and Brulette. It is better not to tell them the evil I -have done. Except the muleteers, and my father and sister, the monk -and you, no one knows that when that man fell he never rose again. I -had only time to say to Thérence, 'He is dead, I must leave these -parts.' Maître Archignat said the same thing to my father; but the -other foresters know nothing, and wish not to know anything. The -monk himself would have seen only part of it if he had not followed -us with remedies for the wound. The muleteers were inclined to send -him back at once, but the chief answered for him, and I, though I -might be risking my neck, could not endure that the man should be -buried like a dog, without Christian prayer. The future is in God's -hands. You understand, of course, that a man involved as I am in a -bad business cannot, at least for a long time, think of courting a -girl as much sought after and respected as Brulette. But I do ask -you, for my sake, not to tell her the extent of the trouble I am in. -I am willing she should forget me, but not that she should hate or -fear me." - -"She has no right to do either," I replied, "since it was for love of -her--" - -"Ah!" exclaimed Huriel, sighing and passing his hand before his eyes, -"it is a love that costs me dear!" - -"Come, come," I said, "courage! she shall know nothing; you may rely -upon my word; and all that I can do, if occasion offers to make her -see your merits, shall be done faithfully." - -"Gently, gently, Tiennet," returned Huriel, "I don't ask you to take -my side as I take Joseph's. You don't know me as well, neither do -you owe me the same friendship; I know what it is to push another -into the place we would like to occupy. You care for Brulette -yourself; and among three lovers, as we are, two must be just and -reasonable when the third is preferred. But, whatever happens, I -hope we shall all three remain brothers and friends." - -"Take me out of the list of suitors," I said, smiling without the -least vexation. "I have always been the least ardent of Brulette's -lovers, and now I am as calm as if I had never dreamed of loving her. -I know what is in the secret heart of the girl; she has made a good -choice, and I am satisfied. Adieu, my Huriel; may the good God help -you, and give you hope, and so enable you to forget the troubles of -this bad night." - -We clasped each other for good-bye, and I inquired where he was going. - -"To the mountains of the Forez," he replied. "Write to me at the -village of Huriel, which is my birth-place and where we have -relations. They will send me your letters." - -"But can you travel so far with that wound in your head? Isn't it -dangerous?" - -"Oh no!" he said, "it is nothing. I wish _the other's_ head had been -as hard as mine!" - -When I was alone I began to think over with amazement all that must -have happened that night in the forest without my hearing or -detecting the slightest thing. I was still more surprised when, -passing once more, in broad daylight, the spot where the dance had -taken place, I saw that since midnight persons had returned to mow -the grass and dig over the ground to remove all trace of what had -happened. In short, from one direction persons had come twice to -make things safe at this particular point; from the other, Thérence -had contrived to communicate with her brother; and, besides all this, -a burial had been performed, without the faintest appearance or the -lightest sound having warned me of what was taking place, although -the night was clear and I had gone from end to end of the silent -woods looking and listening with the utmost attention. It turned my -mind to the difference between the habits, and indeed the characters, -of these woodland people and the laborers of the open country. On -the plains, good and evil are too clearly seen not to make the -inhabitants from their youth up submit to the laws and behave with -prudence. But in the forests, where the eyes of their fellows can be -escaped, men invoke no justice but that of God or the devil, -according as they are well or ill intentioned. - -When I reached the lodges the sun was up; the Head-Woodsman had gone -to his work; Joseph was still asleep; Thérence and Brulette were -talking together under the shed. They asked me why I had got up so -early, and I noticed that Thérence was uneasy lest I had seen or -heard something. I behaved as if I knew nothing, and had not gone -further than the adjoining wood. - -Joseph soon joined us, and I remarked that he looked much better than -when we arrived. - -"Yet I have hardly slept all night," he replied; "I was restless till -nearly day-break; but I think the reason was that the fever which has -weakened me so much left me last evening, for I feel stronger and -more vigorous than I have been for a long time." - -Thérence, who understood fevers, felt his pulse, and then her face, -which looked very tired and depressed, brightened suddenly. - -"See!" she cried; "the good God sends us at least one happiness; here -is our patient on the road to recovery! The fever has gone, and his -blood is already recovering strength." - -"If you want to know what I have felt this night," said Joseph, "you -must promise not to call it a dream; but here it is--In the first -place, however, tell me if Huriel got off without a wound, and if the -other did not get more than he wanted. Have you had any news from -the forest of Chambérat?" - -"Yes, yes," replied Thérence, hastily. "They have both gone to the -upper country. Say what you were going to say." - -"I don't know if you will comprehend it, you two," resumed Joseph, -addressing the girls, "but Tiennet will. When I saw Huriel fight so -resolutely my knees gave way under me, and, feeling weaker than any -woman, I came near losing consciousness; but at the very moment when -my body was giving way my heart grew hot within me, and my eyes never -ceased to look at the fight. When Huriel struck the fellow down and -remained standing himself, I could have shouted 'Victory!' like a -drunken man, if I had not restrained myself; I would have rushed if I -could to embrace him. But the impulse was soon gone, and when I got -back here I felt as though I had received and given every blow, and -as if all the bones in my body were broken." - -"Don't think any more about it," said Thérence; "it was a horrid -thing to see and recollect. I dare say it gave you bad dreams last -night." - -"I did not dream at all," said Joseph; "I lay thinking, and little by -little I felt my mind awakened and my body healed, as if the time had -come to take up my bed and walk, like the paralytic of the Gospels. -I saw Huriel before me, shining with light; he blamed my illness, and -declared it was a cowardice of the mind. He seemed to say: 'I am a -man, you are a child; you shake with fever while my blood is fire. -You are good for nothing, but I am good in all ways, for others and -for myself. Come, listen to this music.' And I heard an air -muttering like a storm, which raised me in my bed as the wind lifts -the fallen leaves. Ah, Brulette, I think I have done with being ill -and cowardly; I can go now to my own country and kiss my mother, and -make my plans to start,--for start I must, upon a journey; I must see -and learn, and make myself what I should be." - -"You wish to travel?" said Thérence, her face, so lately lighted like -a star with pleasure, growing white and cloudy as an autumn moon. -"You think to find a better teacher than my father, and better -friends than people here? Go and see your mother; that is right, if -you are strong enough to go,--unless, indeed, you are deceiving us -and longing to die in distant parts--" - -Grief and displeasure choked her voice. Joseph, who watched her, -suddenly changed both his language and his manner. - -"Never mind what I have been dreaming this morning, Thérence," he -said; "I shall never find a better master or better friends. You -asked me to tell my dreams, and I did tell them, that is all. When I -am cured I shall ask advice of all three of you, and of your father -also. Till then pay no attention to what comes into my head; let us -be happy for the time that we are together." - -Thérence was pacified; but Brulette and I, who knew how dogged and -obstinate Joseph could be under his gentle manner, and remembered how -he had left us without allowing us a chance to remonstrate or -persuade him, felt sure that his mind was already fully made up, and -that no one could change it. - -During the next two days I once more felt dreadfully dull; and so did -Brulette, though she amused herself by finishing the embroidery she -wanted to give Thérence, and spent some hours in the woods with Père -Bastien, partly to leave Joseph to the care of Thérence, and partly -to talk of Huriel and comfort the worthy man for the danger and -distress the fight had caused him. The Head-Woodsman, touched by the -friendship which she showed him, told her the truth about Malzac, -and, far from her blaming Huriel, as the latter had feared, it only -drew her closer to him through the gratitude which she now felt she -owed him. - -On the sixth day we began to talk of separating. Joseph was getting -better hourly; he worked a little, and did his best in every way to -recover his strength. He had decided to go with us and spend a few -days at home, saying that he should return almost immediately to the -woods of Alleu,--which Brulette and I doubted, and so did Thérence, -who was almost as uneasy about his health as she had been about his -illness. I don't know if it was she who persuaded her father to -accompany us half-way, or whether the notion came into Père Bastien's -own mind; at any rate, he made us the offer, which Brulette instantly -accepted. Joseph was only half pleased at this, though he tried not -to show it. - -The little trip naturally diverted the Head-Woodsman's thoughts from -his anxieties, and while making his preparations the evening before -our departure he recovered much of his natural fine spirits. The -muleteers had left the neighborhood without hindrance, and nothing -had been said about Malzac, who had neither relations nor friends to -inquire for him. A year or two might go by before the authorities -troubled themselves to know what had become of him, and indeed, they -might never do so; for in those days there was no great policing in -France, and a man might disappear without any notice being taken of -it. Moreover, the Head-Woodsman and his family would leave those -parts at the end of the chopping season, and as father and son never -stayed six months in the same place, the law would be very clever -indeed to know where to catch them. - -For these reasons the Head-Woodsman, who had feared only the first -results of the affair, finding that no one got wind of the secret, -grew easy in mind and so restored our courage. - -On the morning of the eighth day he put us all into a little cart he -had borrowed, together with a horse, from a friend of his in the -forest, and taking the reins he drove us by the longest but safest -road to Saint-Sevère, where we were to part from him and his daughter. - -Brulette inwardly regretted returning by a new way, where she could -not revisit any of the scenes she had passed through with Huriel. As -for me, I was glad to travel and to see Saint-Pallais in Bourbonnais -and Préveranges, two little villages on the heights, also -Saint-Prejet and Pérassay, other villages lower down along the banks -of the Indre; moreover, as we followed that river from its source and -I remembered that it ran through our village I no longer felt myself -a stranger in a strange land. When we reached Saint-Sevère, I felt -at home, for it is only six leagues from our place, and I had already -been there two or three times. While the rest were bidding each -other farewell, I went to hire a conveyance to take us to Nohant, but -I could only find one for the next day as early as I wanted it. - -When I returned and reported the fact, Joseph seemed annoyed. "What -do we want with a conveyance?" he said. "Can't we start in the fresh -of the morning on foot and get home in the cool of the evening? -Brulette has walked that distance often enough to dance at some -assembly, and I feel able to do as much as she." - -Thérence remarked that so long a walk might bring back his fever, and -that only made him more obstinate; but Brulette, seeing Thérence's -vexation, cut the matter short by saying she was too tired, and she -would prefer to pass the night at the inn and start in a carriage the -next morning. - -"Well, then," said the Head-Woodsman, "Thérence and I will do the -same. Our horse shall rest here for the night, and we will part from -you at daybreak to-morrow morning. But instead of eating our meal in -this inn which is full of flies, I propose that we take the dinner -into some shady place or to the bank of the river, and sit there and -talk till it is time to go to bed." - -So said, so done. I engaged two bedrooms, one for the girls, the -other for us men, and wishing to entertain Père Bastien (who I had -noticed was a good eater) according to my own ideas, I filled a big -basket with the best the inn could afford in patés, white bread, -wine, and wine-brandy, and carried it outside the village. It was -lucky that the present fashion of drinking coffee and beer did not -exist in those days, for I shouldn't have spared the cost, and my -pockets would have been emptied. - -Saint-Sevère is a fine neighborhood, cut into by ravines that are -well watered and refreshing to the eye. We chose a spot of rising -ground, where the air was so exhilarating that not a crust nor a drop -remained after the feast. Presently Père Bastien, feeling lively, -picked up his bagpipe, which never left him, and said to Joseph:-- - -"My lad, we never know who is to live or who to die; we are parting, -you say, for three or four days; in my opinion, you are thinking of a -much longer absence; and it may be in God's mind that we shall never -meet again. This is what all persons who part at the crossways ought -to say and feel to each other. I hope that you leave us satisfied -with me and with my children; I am satisfied with you and with your -friends here; but I do not forget that the prime object of all was to -teach you music, and I regret that your two months' illness put a -stop to it. I don't say that I could have made you a learned -musician; I know there are such in the cities, both ladies and -gentlemen, who play instruments that we know nothing about, and read -off written airs just as others read words in a book. Except -chanting, which I learned in my youth, I know very little of such -music, and I have taught you all I know, namely, the keys, notes, and -time measures. If you desire to know more you must go to the great -cities, where the violinists will teach you both minuet and quadrille -music; but I don't know what good that would be to you unless you -want to leave your own parts and renounce the position of peasant." - -"God forbid!" replied Joseph, looking at Brulette. - -"Therefore," continued the Head-Woodsman, "you will have to look -elsewhere for instruction on the bagpipe or the hurdy-gurdy. If you -choose to come back to me, I will help you; but if you think you can -do better in the Upper country, you must go there. What I should -wish to do would be to guide you slowly till your lungs grew so -strong that you could use them without effort, and your fingers no -longer failed you. As for the idea within us, that can't be taught; -you have your own, and I know it to be of good quality. I gave you, -however, what was in my own head, and whatever you can remember of it -you may use as you like. But as your wish seems to be to compose, -you can't do better than travel about, and so compare your ideas and -stock of knowledge with that of others. You had better go as far up -as Auvergne and the Forez, and see how grand and beautiful the world -is beyond our valleys, and how the heart swells when we stand on the -heights of a real mountain, and behold the waters, whose voice is -louder than the voice of man, rolling downward to nourish the trees -the verdure of which never dies. Don't go into the lowlands of those -other regions. You will find there what you have left in your own -country, and that isn't what you want. Now is the time to give you a -bit of information which you should never forget; listen carefully to -what I say to you." - - - - -EIGHTEENTH EVENING. - -Père Bastien, observing that Joseph listened with great attention, -continued as follows:-- - -"Music has two modes which the learned, as I have heard tell, call -major and minor, but which I call the clear mode and the troubled -mode; or, if you like it better, the blue-sky mode and the gray-sky -mode, or, still otherwise, the mode of strength and joy, and the mode -of dreaminess and gloom. You may search till morning and you will -find no end to the contrasts between the two modes; but you will -never find a third, for all things on this earth are light or -darkness, rest or action. Now listen to me, Joseph! The plains sing -in the major, and the mountains in the minor mode. If you had stayed -in your own country your ideas would belong to the clear and tranquil -mode; in returning: there now, you ought to see the use that a soul -like yours could make of that mode; for the one mode is neither less -nor more than the other. But while you lived at home, feeling -yourself a thorough musician, you fretted at not hearing the minor -sound in your ears. The fiddlers and the singing-girls of your parts -only acquire it; for song is like the wind which blows everywhere and -carries the seeds of plants from one horizon to another. But -inasmuch as nature has not made your people dreamy and passionate, -they make a poor use of the minor mode, and corrupt it by that use. -That is why you thought your bagpipes were always false. Now, if you -want to understand the minor, go seek it in wild and desolate places, -and learn that many a tear must be shed before you can duly use a -mode which was given to man to utter his griefs, or, at any rate, to -sigh his love." - -Joseph understood Père Bastien so well that he asked him to play the -last air he had composed, so as to give us a specimen of the sad gray -mode which he called the minor. - -"There, there!" cried the old man; "so you overheard the air I have -been trying for the last week to put to certain words. I thought I -was singing to myself; but, as you were listening, here it is, such -as I expect to leave it." - -Lifting his bagpipe he removed the chanter, on which he softly played -an air which, though it was not melancholy, brought memories of the -past and a sense of longing after many things to the consciousness of -those who listened. - -Joseph was evidently not at ease, and Brulette, who listened without -stirring, seemed to waken from a dream when it ended. - -"And the words," said Thérence, "are they sad too, father?" - -"The words," said he, "are, like the air, rather confused and demand -reflection. They tell the story of how three lovers courted a girl." - -Whereupon he sang a song, now very popular in our parts, though the -words have been a good deal altered; but this is how the Père Bastien -sang them:-- - - Three woodsmen there were, - In springtime, on the grass - (Listen to the nightingale); - Three woodsmen were there, - Speaking each with the lass. - - The youngest he said, - He who held the flower - (Listen to the nightingale), - The youngest then said he - I love thee, but I cower. - - The oldest cried out, - He who held the tool - (Listen to the nightingale), - The oldest cried aloud, - When I love I rule. - - The third sang to her, - Bearing the almond spray - (Listen to the nightingale), - The third sang in her ear, - I love thee and I pray. - - Friend shall never be - You who bear the flower - (Listen to the nightingale), - Friend shall never be - A coward, or I cower. - - Master will I none, - You who hold the tool - (Listen to the nightingale), - No master thou of mine, - Love obeys no rule. - - Lover thou shalt be - Who bear the almond spray - (Listen to the nightingale), - My lover shalt thou be, - Gifts are for those who pray. - - -I liked the air when joined to the words better than the first time I -heard it; and I was so pleased that I asked to hear it again; but -Père Bastien, who had no vanity about his compositions, declared it -was not worth while, and went on playing other airs, sometimes in the -major, sometimes in the minor, and even employing both modes in the -same song, teaching Joseph, as he did so, how to pass from one to the -other and then back again. - -The stars were casting their light long before we wanted to retire; -even the townspeople assembled in numbers at the foot of the ravine -to listen, with much satisfaction to their ears. Some said: "That's -one of the Bourbonnais bagpipers, and what is more, he is a master; -he knows the art, and not one of us can hold a candle to him." - -On our way back to the inn Père Bastien continued to instruct Joseph, -and the latter, never weary of such talk, lagged a little behind us -to listen and question him. So I walked in front with Thérence, who, -useful and energetic as ever, helped me to carry the baskets. -Brulette walked alone between the pairs, dreaming of I don't know -what,--as she had taken to doing of late; and Thérence sometimes -turned round as if to look at her, but really to see if Joseph were -following. - -"Look at him well, Thérence," I said to her, at a moment when she -seemed in great anxiety, "for your father said truly, 'When we part -for a day it may be for life.'" - -"Yes," she replied, "but on the other hand, when we think we are -parting for life it may be for only a day." - -"You remind me," said I, "that when I first saw you you floated away -like a dream and I never expected to see you again." - -"I know what you mean," she exclaimed. "My father reminded me of it -yesterday, in speaking of you. Father really loves you, Tiennet, and -has great respect for you." - -"I am glad and honored, Thérence; but I don't know what I have done -to deserve it, for there is nothing in me that is different from the -common run of men." - -"My father is never mistaken in his judgment, and what he says, I -believe; why should that make you sigh, Tiennet?" - -"Did I sigh, Thérence? I didn't mean to." - -"No, of course you did not," she replied; "but that is no reason why -you should hide your feelings from me. You love Brulette and are -afraid--" - -"I love Brulette very much, that is true, but without any -love-sighing, and without any regrets or worries about what she -thinks of me. I have no love in my heart, because it would do me no -good to have any." - -"Ah, you are very lucky, Tiennet!" she cried, "to be able to govern -your feelings by your mind in that way." - -"I should be better worth something, Thérence, if, like you, I -governed them by my heart. Yes, yes, I know you; I have watched you, -and I know the true secret of your conduct. I have seen how, for the -last eight days, you have set aside your own feelings to cure Joseph, -and how you secretly do everything for his good without letting him -see so much as your little finger in it. You want him to be happy, -and you said true when you told Brulette and me that if we can do -good to those we love there is no need to be thinking of our own -happiness. That's what you do and what you are; and though jealousy -may sometimes get the better of you, you recover directly. It is -marvellous to see how strong and generous you are; it is saintly. -You must allow that if either of us two is to respect the other, it -is I you, not you me. I am a rather sensible fellow, and that is -all; you are a girl with a great heart, and a stern hand upon -yourself." - -"Thanks for the good you think of me," replied Thérence, "but perhaps -I don't deserve it, my lad. You want me to be in love with Joseph, -and I am not. As God is my judge, I have never thought of being his -wife, and the attachment I feel to him is rather that of a sister or -a mother." - -"Oh! as for that, I am not sure that you don't deceive yourself, -Thérence. Your disposition is impulsive." - -"That is just why I do not deceive myself. I love my father and -brother deeply and almost madly. If I had children I should defend -them like a wolf and brood over them like a hen; but the thing they -call love, such, for instance, as my brother feels for Brulette,--the -desire to please, and a nameless sort of feeling which makes him -suffer when alone, and not be able to think of her without pain,--all -that I do not feel at all, and I cannot imagine it. Joseph may leave -us forever if it will do him good, and I shall thank God, and only -grieve if it turns out that he is the worse for it." - -Thérence's way of looking at the matter gave me a good deal to think -of. I could not understand it very well, for she now seemed to me -above all others and above me. I walked a little way beside her -without saying a word, not knowing whither my mind was going; for I -was seized with such a feeling of ardent friendship that I longed -with all my heart to embrace her, with all respect and thinking no -harm, till suddenly a glance at her, so young and beautiful, filled -me with shame and fear. When we reached the inn I asked her, apropos -of what I forget, to tell me exactly what her father had said of me. - -"He said," she replied, "that you were a man of the strongest good -sense he had ever known." - -"You might as well call me a good-natured fool at once, don't you -think so?" I said, laughing, but rather mortified. - -"Not at all!" cried Thérence; "here are my father's very words: 'He -who sees clearest into the things of this world is he who acts with -the highest justice.' Now it is true that great good sense leads to -great kindness of heart, and I do not think that my father is -mistaken." - -"In that case, Thérence," I cried, rather agitated at the bottom of -my heart, "have a little regard for me." - -"I have a great deal," she said, shaking the hand which I held out to -her; but it was said with an air of good-fellowship which killed all -vaporing, and I slept upon her speech with no more imagination than -justly belonged to it. - -The next day came the parting. Brulette cried when she kissed Père -Bastien, and made him promise that he would come and visit us and -bring Thérence; then the two dear girls embraced each other with such -pledges of affection that they really seemed unable to part. Joseph -offered his thanks to his late master for all the benefits he had -received from him, and when he came to part with Thérence he tried to -say the same to her; but she looked at him with a perfect frankness -which disconcerted him, and pressing each other's hands, they said -only, "Good-bye, and take care of yourself." - -Not feeling at the moment too shy, I asked Thérence to allow me to -kiss her, thinking to set a good example to Joseph; but he took no -notice, and got hastily into the carriage to cut short these parting -civilities. He seemed dissatisfied with himself and others. -Brulette took the last seat in the conveyance, and, so long as she -could see our Bourbonnais friends, she kept her eyes upon them, while -Thérence, standing at the inn-door, seemed to be thinking rather than -grieving. - -We did the rest of the journey somewhat sadly. Joseph said not a -word. Perhaps he hoped that Brulette might take some notice of him; -but according as Joseph grew stronger, Brulette had recovered her -freedom of thinking about other people, and being full of her -friendship for Huriel's father and sister, she talked to me about -them, regretting to part with them and singing their praises, as if -she had really left her heart behind and regretted even the country -we were quitting. - -"It is strange," she said to me, "how, as we get nearer home, the -trees seem to me so small, the grass so yellow, and the river -sluggish. Before I ever left the plains I fancied I could not endure -three days in the woods, and now I believe I could pass my life there -like Thérence, if I had my old father with me." - -"I can't say as much, cousin," said I. "Though, if I were forced to -do so, I don't suppose I should die of it. But the trees may be as -tall, the grass as green, and the streams as sparkling as they -please; I prefer a nettle in my own land to an oak in foreign parts. -My heart jumps with joy at each familiar rock and bush, as if I had -been absent two or three years, and when I catch sight of the church -clock I mean, for sure, to take off my hat to it." - -"And you, José?" said Brulette, noticing the annoyed look of our -companion for the first time. "You, who have been absent more than a -year, are not you glad to get home again?" - -"Excuse me, Brulette, I don't know what you are talking about. My -head is full of that song the Head-Woodsman sang last night, and in -the middle of it there is a little refrain which I can't remember." - -"Bah!" cried Brulette, "it is where the song says, 'Listen to the -nightingale.'" - -So saying, she sang the tune quite correctly, which roused Joseph so -much that he jumped with joy in the cart, clapping his hands. - -"Ah, Brulette!" he cried, "how lucky you are to remember like that! -Again! sing it again! 'Listen to the nightingale.'" - -"I would rather sing the whole song," she answered; and thereupon she -sang it straight through without missing a word, which delighted -Joseph so much that he pressed her hands, saying, with a courage I -didn't think him capable of, that only a musician could be worthy of -her. - -"Well, certainly," said Brulette, thinking of Huriel, "if I had a -lover I should wish him to be both a good singer and a good bagpiper." - -"It is rare to be both," returned Joseph. "A bagpipe ruins the -voice, and except the Head-Woodsman--" - -"And his son," said Brulette, heedlessly. - -I nudged her elbow, and she began to talk of something else, but -Joseph, who was eaten up with jealousy, persisted in harking back to -the song. - -"I believe," he said, "that when Père Bastien composed those words he -was thinking of three fellows of our acquaintance; for I remember a -talk we had with him after supper the day of your arrival in the -forest." - -"I don't remember it," said Brulette, blushing. - -"But I do," returned Joseph. "We were speaking of a girl's love, and -Huriel said it couldn't be won by tossing up for it. Tiennet -declared, laughing, that softness and submission were of no use, and -to be loved we must needs be feared, instead of being too kind and -good. Huriel argued against Tiennet, and I listened without saying a -word. Am not I the one who 'bears the flower,--the youngest of the -three, who loves and cowers'? Repeat the last verse, Brulette, as -you know it so well--about 'gifts for those who ask.'" - -"Since you know it as well as I do," said Brulette, rather nettled, -"keep it to sing to the first girl you make love to. If Père Bastien -likes to turn the talk he hears into songs, it is not for me to draw -conclusions. Besides, I know nothing about it. But my feet are -tingling with cold, and while the horse walks up this hill, I shall -take a run to warm them." - -Not waiting till I could stop the horse, she jumped on to the road -and walked off in front of us as light as a little milkmaid. - -I wanted to get down too, but Joseph caught me by the arm and, always -pursuing his own ideas, "Don't you think," said he, "that we despise -those who show their desires as much as those who do not show them at -all?" - -"If you mean me--" - -"I mean no one. I was only thinking of the talk we had over there, -which Père Bastien turned into a song against your speech and my -silence. It seems that Huriel will win his suit with the girl." - -"What girl?" I said, out of patience, for Joseph had never taken me -into his confidence before, and I was none too pleased to have him -give it out of vexation. - -"What girl?" he cried in a tone of angry sarcasm, "the girl of the -song." - -"Then what suit is Huriel to win? does the girl live at a distance? -is that where Huriel has gone?" - -Joseph thought a moment and then continued: "It is true enough, what -he said, that between mastership and silence, there is prayer. That -comes round to your first remark, that in order to attract we must -not love too well. He who loves too well is the timid, silent one; -not a word can he tear from his throat, and he is thought a fool -because he is dumb with desire and false shame." - -"No doubt of that," I said. "I have gone through it myself many a -time. But it also happened to me sometimes to speak out so badly -that I had better have held my tongue; I might have fancied myself -beloved a little longer." - -Poor Joseph bit his lips and said no more. I was sorry I had vexed -him, and yet I could not prevent myself from resenting his jealousy -of Huriel, knowing as I did how the latter had done his best for him -against his own interests. I took, at this very time, such a disgust -for jealousy that since then I have never felt a twinge of it, and I -don't think I could now without good reason. - -I was, however, just going to speak kindly to him, when we noticed -that Brulette, who was still ahead of us, had stopped on the wayside -to speak to a monk, who looked short and fat, like the one I had seen -in the woods of Chambérat. I whipped up the horse, and soon -convinced myself that it was really Brother Nicolas. He had asked -Brulette if he were far from our village, and, as he was still three -miles distant and said he was very tired, she had offered to give him -a lift in our conveyance. - -We made room for him and for a large covered basket which he was -carrying, and which he deposited with much precaution on his knees. -None of us dreamed of asking what it contained, except perhaps -myself, who am naturally rather curious; but I feared to be -indiscreet, for I knew the mendicant friars gathered up all sorts of -things from pious shopkeepers, which they sold again for the benefit -of their monastery. Everything came handy for this traffic, even -women's trumpery, which, however, some of them did not venture to -dispose of openly. - -I drove at a trot, and presently we caught sight of the church clock -and the old elms on the market-place, then of all the houses of the -village, both big and little,--which did not afford me as much -pleasure as I had expected, for the meeting with Brother Nicolas had -brought to mind certain painful things about which I was still -uneasy. I saw, however, that he was on his guard as well as I, for -he said not a word before Brulette and Joseph showing that we had met -elsewhere than at the dance, or that he and I knew more of what had -happened than the rest. - -He was a very pleasant man, with a jovial nature that might have -amused me under other circumstances, but I was in a hurry to reach -home and get him alone by himself, so as to ask if he had any news of -the affair. As we entered the village Joseph jumped off, and -notwithstanding that Brulette begged him to come and rest at her -grandfather's, he took the road to Saint-Chartier, saying that he -would pay his respects to Père Brulet after he had seen and embraced -his mother. - -I fancied that the friar rather urged it on him as a duty, as if to -get rid of him; and then, instead of accepting my proposal that he -should dine and sup at my house, Brother Nicolas declared that he -could stop only an hour at Père Brulet's, with whom he had business. - -"You will be very welcome," said Brulette; "but do you know my -grandfather? I have never seen you at the house." - -"I do not know either him or your village," answered the monk, "but I -am charged with an errand to him, which I can deliver only at his -house." - -"I returned to my first notion, namely, that he had ribbons and laces -in his basket, and that, having heard from the neighbors that -Brulette was the smartest girl in these parts, he wanted to show her -his merchandise without exposing himself to gossip, which, in those -days, spared neither good monks nor wicked ones." - -I thought this idea was in Brulette's head too, for when she got down -first at the door, she held out both arms for the basket, saying, -"Don't be afraid; I guess what is in it." But the friar refused to -give it up, saying it was valuable and he feared it might get broken. - -"I see, Brother," I said to him in a low voice, detaining him a -moment, "that you are very busy. I don't want to hinder you, but I -should like you to tell me quickly if there is any news from over -there." - -"None that I know of," he said in the same tone; "but no news is good -news." Then shaking me by the hand in a friendly way, he entered the -house after Brulette, who was already hanging to her grandfather's -neck. - -I thought old Brulet, who was generally polite, owed me a hearty -welcome and some thanks for the care I had taken of his -granddaughter; but instead of keeping me even a moment, he seemed -more interested in the arrival of the friar; for, taking him at once -by the hand, he led him into an inner room, begging me to excuse him -and saying he had matters of importance to discuss and wished to be -alone with his granddaughter. - - - - -NINETEENTH EVENING. - -I am not easily affronted, but I was so now at being thus received; -and I went off home to put up the cart and to inquire after my -family. After that, the day being too far gone to go to work, I -sauntered about the village to see if everything was in its old -place, and found no change, except that one of the trees felled on -the common before the cobbler's door had been chopped up into sabots, -and that Père Godard had trimmed up his poplar and put new flags on -his path. I certainly supposed that my journey into the Bourbonnais -had made a stir, and I expected to be assailed with questions which I -might find it hard to answer; but the folks in our region are very -indifferent, and I seemed, for the first time, to realize how dull -they were,--being obliged to tell a good many that I had just -returned from a trip. They did not even know I had been away. - -Towards evening, as I was loitering home, I met the friar on his way -to La Chatre, and he told me that Père Brulet wanted me to sup with -him. - -What was my astonishment on entering the house to see Père Brulet on -one side of the table, and his granddaughter on the other, gazing at -the monk's basket which lay open before them, and in it a big baby -about a year old, sitting on a pillow and trying to eat some -blackheart cherries, the juice of which had daubed and stained his -face! - -Brulette seemed to me thoughtful and rather sad; but when she saw my -amazement she couldn't help laughing; after which she wiped her eyes, -for she seemed to me to have been shedding tears of grief or vexation -rather than of gayety. - -"Come," she said at last, "shut the door tight and listen to us. -Here is grandfather who wants to tell you all about the fine present -the monk has brought us." - -"You must know, nephew," said Père Brulet, who never smiled at -pleasant things any more than he frowned at disagreeable ones, "that -this is an orphan child; and we have agreed with the monk to take -care of him for the price of his board. We know nothing about the -child, neither his father, his mother, his country, nor anything -else. He is called Charlot, and that is all we do know. The pay is -good, and the friar gave us the preference because he met Brulette in -the Bourbonnais, and hearing where she lived and how well-behaved she -was, and, moreover, that she was not rich and had time at her -disposal, he thought he could give her a pleasure and do her a -service by putting the little fellow under her charge and letting her -earn the money." - -Though the matter was tolerably surprising, I was not much astonished -at first hearing of it, and only asked if the monk was formerly known -to Père Brulet, and whether he could trust him as to the future -payment. - -"I had never seen him," replied the old man, "but I knew that he had -been in this neighborhood several times, and he is known to persons -in whom I have confidence, and who informed me, two or three days -ago, of the matter he was to come about. Besides, a year's board is -paid in advance, and when the money doesn't come it will be soon -enough to worry." - -"Very good, uncle; you know your own affairs; but I should not have -expected to see my cousin, who loves her freedom, tied down to the -care of a little monkey who is nothing to her, and who, be it said -without offence, is not at all nice in his appearance." - -"That is just what annoys me," said Brulette, "and I was saying so to -my grandfather as you came in. And," she added, rubbing the muzzle -of the little animal with her handkerchief, "no wiping will make his -mouth any better; I wish I could have begun my apprenticeship with a -child that was prettier to kiss. This one looks surly, and won't -even smile; he cares only for things to eat." - -"Bah!" said Père Brulet, "he is not uglier than all children of his -age, and it is your business to make him nice. He is tired with his -journey, and doesn't know where he is, nor what we mean to do with -him." - -Père Brulet went out to look for his knife, which he had left at a -neighbor's, and I began to get more and more surprised when alone -with Brulette. She seemed annoyed at times, and even distressed. - -"What worries me is that I don't know how to take care of a child," -she said. "I could not bear to let a poor creature that can't help -itself suffer; but I am so unhandy; I am sorry now that I never was -inclined to look after the little ones." - -"It is a fact," I said, "that you don't seem born for the business, -and I can't understand why your grandfather who I never thought was -eager after money, should put such a care upon you for the sake of a -few crowns." - -"You talk like a rich man." she said. "Remember that I have no -dower, and that a fear of poverty has always deterred me from -marrying." - -"That's a very bad reason, Brulette. You have been and still will be -sought after by men who are richer than you, and who love your sweet -eyes and your pretty chatter." - -"My sweet eyes will fade, and my pretty chatter won't be worth much -when the beauty has gone. I don't wish to be reproached at the end -of a few years with having lost my dower of charms and brought -nothing more solid into the household." - -"Is it that you are really thinking of marrying--since we left the -Bourbonnais?" I asked. "This is the first time I ever heard you talk -of money." - -"I am not thinking of it any more than I have always thought," -returned Brulette, but in a less confident tone than usual, "I never -said I meant to live unmarried." - -"I see how it is!" I cried, laughing, "you are thinking of it, and -you needn't try to hide it from me, for I have given up all hopes of -my own. I see plainly enough that in taking care of this little -wretch, who has money and no mother, you are laying up a store, like -the squirrels. If not, your grandfather, whom you have always ruled -as if he were your grandson, would not have forced you to take such a -boy to nurse." - -Brulette lifted the child from the table, and as she carried him to -her grandfather's bed she gave him a rather sad look. - -"Poor Charlot!" she said, "I'll do my best for you; you are much to -be pitied for having come into the world, and it is my belief that -nobody wanted you." - -But her gayety soon returned; she even had some hearty laughs at -supper in feeding Charlot, who had the appetite of a little wolf, and -answered all her attentions by trying to scratch her face. - -Toward eight o'clock Joseph came in and was very well received by -Père Brulet; but I observed that Brulette, who had just been putting -Charlot to bed, closed the curtains quickly as if to hide him, and -seemed disturbed all the time that Joseph remained. I observed also -that not a word was said to him of this singular event, either by the -old man or by Brulette, and I therefore thought it my duty to hold my -tongue. Joseph was cross, and said as little as possible in answer -to my uncle's questions. Brulette asked him if he had found his -mother in good health, and if she had been surprised and pleased to -see him. Then, as he said "yes" to everything, she asked if he had -not tired himself too much by walking to Saint-Chartier and back in -one evening. - -"I did not wish to let the day go by without paying my respects to -your grandfather," he said; "and now, as I really am tired, I shall -go and spend the night with Tiennet, if I don't inconvenience him." - -I answered that it would give me pleasure, and took him to my house -where, after we were in bed, he said: "Tiennet, I am really on the -point of departure. I came here only to get away from the woods of -Alleu, for I was sick of them." - -"That's the worst of you, Joseph; you were there with friends who -took the place of those you left here in the same way--" - -"Well, it is what I choose to do," he said, rather shortly; then in a -milder tone he added: "Tiennet, Tiennet, there are some things one -can tell, and others which force us to keep silence. You hurt me -to-day in telling me I could never please Brulette." - -"Joseph, I never said anything of the kind, for the reason that I -don't know if you really care for her." - -"You do know it," he replied; "and you blame me for not having opened -my heart to you. But how could I? I am not one of those who tell -their secrets willingly. It is my misfortune; I believe I have -really no other illness than one sole idea, always stretching toward -the same end, and always beaten back when it rises to my lips. -Listen to me now, while I do feel able to talk; for God knows how -soon I may fall mute again. I love; and I see plainly I am not -loved. So many years have passed in this way (for I loved Brulette -when we were little children) that I have grown accustomed to the -pain. I have never flattered myself that I could please her; I have -lived in the belief that she would never care for me. Lately, -however, I saw by her coming to the Bourbonnais that I was something -to her, and it gave me strength and the will not to die. But I soon -perceived that she met some one over there who suited her better than -I." - -"I know nothing about it," I replied; "but if it were so, that some -one you speak of gave you no ground for complaint or reproach." - -"That is true," said Joseph; "and my anger is unjust,--all the more -because Huriel, knowing Brulette to be an honest girl, and not being -able to marry her so long as he remains in the fraternity of -muleteers, has himself done what he could to separate from her. I -can still hope to return to Brulette hereafter, more worthy of her -than I have been; but I cannot bear to stay here now, for I am still -nothing better than I was in the past. There is something in the -manner and language of every one who speaks to me that seems to mean: -'You are sick, you are thin, you are ugly, you are feeble, you know -nothing new and nothing good that can interest us in you.' Yes, -Tiennet, what I tell you is exactly so; my mother seemed frightened -by my face when she saw me, and she cried so when she kissed me that -the pain of seeing her was greater than the joy. This evening, too, -Brulette looked annoyed when I came in, and her grandfather, good and -kind as he always is to me, seemed uneasy lest I should stay too -long. Now don't tell me that I imagined all that. Like all those -who speak little, I see much. My time has not yet come; I must go, -and the sooner the better." - -"I think you ought to take at least a few days' rest," I said; "for I -fancy you mean to go to a great distance, and I do not think it -friendly in you to give us unnecessary anxiety." - -"You need not be anxious, Tiennet. I have all the strength I want, -and I shall not be ill again. I have learned one thing; and that is -that frail bodies, to which God has given slender physical powers, -are provided with a force of will which carries them farther than the -vigorous health of others. I was not exaggerating when I told you -over there that I became, as it were, a new man on seeing Huriel -fight so boldly; and that I was wide awake in the night when I heard -his voice saying to me, 'Come, cheer up! I am a man, and as long as -you are not one you will count for nothing.' I want therefore to -shake myself free of my poor nature, and return here some day as good -to look at and better to hear than all Brulette's other lovers." - -"But," I said, "suppose she makes her choice before you return? She -is going on nineteen, and for a girl as much courted as she is it is -time to decide." - -"She will decide only between Huriel and me," answered Joseph, in a -confident tone. "There is no one but him and myself who are capable -of teaching her to love. Excuse me, Tiennet; I know, or at least I -believe, that you dreamed of it." - -"Yes," I replied, "but I don't dream of it any longer." - -"Well for you!" said Joseph; "for you could never have been happy -with her. She has tastes and ideas which don't belong to the ground -she has grown in; she needs another wind to rock her; the one that -blows here is not pure enough and it might wither her. She feels all -this, though she may not know how to say it; and I tell you that -unless Huriel is treacherous, I shall find her still free, a year or -two hence." - -So saying, Joseph, as if wearied out by letting himself talk so much, -dropped his head on his pillow and went to sleep. For the last hour -I had been struggling to keep awake, for I was tired out myself. I -slept soundly, and when at daybreak I called him he did not answer. -I looked about, and he was gone without awaking any one. - -Brulette went the next day to see Mariton, to break the news to her, -and find out what had passed between her and her son. She would not -let me accompany her, and told me on her return that she could not -get Mariton to say much, because her master Benoît was ill and even -in some danger from congestion of the brain. I concluded, therefore, -that the woman, being obliged to nurse her master, had not had time -to talk with her son as much as he would have liked, and consequently -he had become jealous, as his nature led him to be at such times. - -"That is very likely," said Brulette, "for the wiser Joseph gets -through ambition the more exacting he becomes. I think I liked him -better when he was simple and submissive as he used to be." - -When I related to Brulette all that he had said to me the night -before, she replied: "If he really has so high an ambition, we should -only hamper him by showing an anxiety he does not wish for. Leave -him in God's care! If I were the flirt you declared I was in former -times, I should be proud to be the cause of his endeavoring to -improve his mind and his career; but I am not; and my feeling is -chiefly regret that he does nothing for his mother or himself." - -"But isn't he right when he says that you can only choose between -Huriel and him?" - -"There is time enough to think about that," she said, laughing with -her lips, though her face was not cheerful, "especially as the only -two lovers Joseph allows me are running away as fast as their legs -can go." - -During the next week the arrival of the child which the monk had -brought was the subject of village gossip and the torment of the -inquisitive. So many tales were founded upon it that Charlot came -near being the son of a prince, and every one wanted to borrow money -of Père Brulet, or sell goods to him, convinced that the stipend -which induced his granddaughter to take up a duty so contrary to her -tastes must at least be a princely revenue. The jealousy of some and -the discontent of others made the old man enemies, which he had never -had in his life, and he was much astonished by it; for, simple, pious -soul that he was, it had never occurred to him that the matter might -give occasion for gossip. Brulette, however, only laughed and -persuaded him to pay no attention to it. - -Days and weeks went by and we heard nothing of Joseph, or of Huriel, -or of the Woodsman and his daughter. Brulette wrote to Thérence and -I to Huriel, but we got no answers. Brulette was troubled and even -annoyed; so much so that she told me she did not mean to think -anything more of those foreigners, who did not even remember her, and -made no return for the friendship she had offered them. So she began -once more to dress herself smartly and appear at the dances; for the -gallants complained of her gloomy looks and the headaches she talked -of ever since her trip to the Bourbonnais. The journey had been -rather criticised; people even said she had some secret love over -there, either for Joseph or for some one else; and they expected her -to be more amiable than ever, before they would forgive her for going -off without a word to any one. - -Brulette was too proud to give in to cajoling them, but she dearly -loved pleasure, and being drawn in that direction, she gave Charlot -in charge of her neighbor, Mère Lamouche, and took her amusement as -before. - -One evening, as I was coming back with her from the pilgrimage of -Vaudevant, which is a great festival, we heard Charlot howling, far -as we were from the house. - -"That dreadful child," said Brulette, "is never out of mischief. I -am sure I don't know who can ever manage him." - -"Are you sure," I said, "the Mère Lamouche takes as good care of him -as she promised you?" - -"Of course she does. She has nothing else to do, and I pay her -enough to satisfy her." - -Charlot continued to yell, and the house looked as though it were -locked up and there was no one in it. Brulette ran and knocked -loudly on the door, but no one answered except Charlot, who screamed -louder than ever, either from fright, or loneliness, or anger. - -I was obliged to climb to the thatch of the roof and clamber down -through the trap-door of the loft. I opened the door for Brulette -and then we saw Charlot all alone, rolling in the ashes, where by -great good luck there was no fire, and purple as a beet from -screaming. - -"Heavens!" cried Brulette, "is that the way to care for the poor -little wretch? Well, whoso takes a child gets a master. I ought to -have known it, and either not taken this one, or given up my own -enjoyments." - -So saying, she carried Charlot to her own home, half in pity and half -impatiently, and having washed, fed, and consoled him as best she -could, she put him to sleep, and sat down to reflect, with her head -in her hands. I tried to show her that it would be easy enough, by -sacrificing the money she was gaining, to employ some kindly, careful -woman to take charge of the boy. - -"No," she exclaimed, "I must look after him, because I am responsible -for him, and you see what looking after him means. If I think I can -let up for one day it is just that very day that I ought not to have -done so. Yes, that's it, I ought not," she said, crying. "It would -be wrong; and I should be sorry for it all my life." - -"On the other hand, you would do wrong if the child were to be the -gainer by it. He is not happy with you, and he might be elsewhere." - -"Why, isn't he happy with me? I hope he is, except on the days when -I am absent; and so I say I will not absent myself again." - -"I tell you he is no better off when you are here." - -"What do you mean?" cried Brulette, striking her hands with vexation; -"where have you heard that? Did you ever see me ill-treat the child, -or even threaten him? Can I help it if he is an unpleasant child -with a sulky disposition? If he were my own I could not do better -for him." - -"Oh! I know you are not unkind to him and never let him want for -anything, because you are a dear, sweet Christian; but you can't love -him, for that doesn't depend upon yourself. He feels this without -knowing it, and that keeps him from loving and caressing others. -Animals know when people like them or dislike them; why shouldn't -little human beings do the same?" - - - - -TWENTIETH EVENING. - -Brulette colored, pouted, began to cry, and said nothing; but the -next day I met her leading her beasts to pasture with Charlot in her -arms. She sat down in the middle of the field with the child on the -skirt of her gown, and said to me:-- - -"You were right, Tiennet. Your reproaches made me reflect, and I -have made up my mind what to do. I can't promise to love this -Charlot much, but I'll behave as if I did, and perhaps God will -reward me some day by giving me children of my own more lovable than -this one." - -"Ah, my darling!" I cried. "I don't know what makes you say that. I -never blamed you; I have nothing to reproach you with except the -obstinacy with which you now resolve to bring up the little wretch -yourself. Come, let me write to that friar, or let me go and find -him and make him put the child in another family. I know where the -convent is, and I would rather make another long journey than see you -condemned to this sort of thing." - -"No, Tiennet," replied Brulette. "We must not even think of changing -what was agreed upon. My grandfather promised for me, and I was -bound to consent. If I could tell you--but I can't! One thing I -want you to know; it is that money counts for nothing in the bargain, -and that my grandfather and I will never accept a penny for a duty we -are bound to perform." - -"Now you do surprise me. Whose child is it? It must belong to some -of your relatives,--consequently, mine." - -"Possibly," she replied. "Some of our family live away from here. -But consider that I have told you nothing, for I cannot and ought not -to do so. Let people believe that the little monkey is a stranger to -us, and that we are paid for the care of him. Otherwise, evil -tongues might accuse those who don't deserve it." - -"The devil!" said I. "If you haven't set me on thorns! I can't -think--" - -"That's just it," she said, "you are not to think; I forbid -it,--though I am quite sure you never could find out." - -"Very good! but do you really mean to wean yourself from all -amusements, just as that child is weaned of the breast? The devil -take your grandfather's promise!" - -"My grandfather did right, and if I had gone against him I should -have been a heartless girl. I repeat, I don't choose to do things by -halves, even if I die of it." - -Brulette was resolute. From that day such a change came over her -that she was scarcely recognizable. She never left the house except -to pasture her sheep and her goats with Charlot beside her; and when -she had put him to bed for the night she would take her work and sit -near him. She went to none of the dances, and bought no more finery, -having no longer any occasion for it. This dull life made her -serious and even sad, for she soon found herself neglected. There is -no girl so pretty but what she is forced to be amiable with everybody -if she wants to have followers; and Brulette, who now showed no -desire to please, was called sullen, all the more because she had -once been so much the reverse. In my opinion she had only changed -for the better, for, having never played the coquette, only my lady -the princess with me, she seemed to my mind more gentle in manner, -more sensible and interesting in her behavior; but others didn't -think so. In the past she had allowed her lovers just so much hope -as now made each of them feel affronted by her neglect, as if he -considered he had a right to her; and although her coquetry had -always been very harmless she was punished for it as if it were a -wrong done to others; which proves, as I think, that men have as -much, if not more, vanity than women, and consider that no one ever -does enough to please or pacify the conceit they have of themselves. - -There is one thing certain at least, and that is that many persons -are very unjust,--even young men who seem such good fellows and such -willing slaves as long as they are in love. Many of Brulette's old -admirers now turned against her, and more than once I had words with -them in defending my cousin from the blame they put upon her. -Unfortunately, they were encouraged by the gossips and the selfish -folk who were jealous of Père Brulet's supposed bit of luck; until -finally Brulette was obliged to refuse to see these maliciously -inquisitive people, and even the false friends who came and repeated -to her what they had heard others say. - -This is how it was that in less than one year the queen of the -village, the Rose of Nohant, was condemned by evil minds and -abandoned by fools. They told dark stories about her, and I -shuddered lest she should hear them; indeed, I myself was often -harassed and puzzled how to answer them. The worst lie of all was -one Père Brulet ought to have expected, namely, that Charlot was -neither some poor foundling nor the son of a prince, brought up -secretly, but really Brulette's own child. In vain I pointed out -that the girl had always lived openly under the eyes of everybody; -and having never encouraged any particular lover she could not have -committed a fault so difficult to hide. They answered that such and -such a one had boldly concealed her condition till the very last day, -and had reappeared, sometimes the day after, as composed and lively -as if nothing had happened, and had even hidden the consequences -until she was married to the author, or the dupe, of her sin. -Unfortunately, this had happened more than once in our village. In -these little country places, where the houses are surrounded by -gardens, and separated from each other by hemp and lucern fields, -some of them of great extent, it is not easy to see and hear from one -to another at all hours of the night, and, indeed, things are done at -any time which the good God alone takes account of. - -One of the worst tongues against Brulette was that of Mère Lamouche, -ever since Brulette had found her out and taken the boy away from -her. She had so long been the willing servant and slave of the girl -that she knew she could look for no further gain from her, and in -revenge she invented and told anything that people wanted her to say. -She related, to whoever listened, how Brulette had sacrificed her -honor to that "puny fellow, José," and that she was so ashamed of it -that she had forced him to leave the place. José had submitted, on -condition that she would marry no one else; and he was now in foreign -parts trying to earn enough money to marry her. The child, said the -woman, had been taken into the Bourbonnais country by men with -blackened faces who called themselves muleteers, and whose -acquaintance Joseph had made under pretence of buying his bagpipe; -but there had never been any other bagpipe in the case than that -squalling Charlot. About a year after his birth Brulette had gone to -see her lover and the baby, in company with me and a muleteer who was -as ugly as the devil. There we made acquaintance with a mendicant -friar, who offered to bring the baby back for us, and with whom we -concocted the story of its being a rich foundling; which was -altogether false, for this child had brought not one penny of profit -to Père Brulet. - -When Mère Lamouche invented this tale, in which, you see, lies were -mixed up with facts, her word was believed by everybody, and Joseph's -short and almost secret visit assisted the belief. So, with much -laughter and derision, Brulette was nicknamed "Josette." - -In spite of my wrath at these outrageous stories, Brulette took so -little pains to make herself agreeable, and showed by her care for -the child such contempt for the gossips, that I began to get -bewildered myself. Was it absolutely impossible that I had been a -dupe? Once upon a time I had certainly been jealous of Joseph. -However virtuous and discreet a girl might be, however shy the lad, -it had often happened that love and ignorance got the better of them, -and some young couples had never known the meaning of evil until they -had committed it. If she had once done wrong, Brulette, a clever -girl, was none the less capable of hiding her misfortune, being too -proud to confess it, yet too right-minded to deceive others. Was it -not by her orders that Joseph wished to make himself a worthy husband -and father? It was certainly a wise and patient scheme. Was I -deceived in thinking she had a fancy for Huriel? I might have been; -but even if she had felt it, in spite of herself, she had not yielded -to her feelings, and so had done no wrong to Joseph. In short, was -it conscientious duty, or strength of friendship, which made her go -to the relief of the poor sick man? In either case she was right to -do so. If she were a mother, she was a good mother, though her -natural inclinations were not that way. All women can have children, -but all women are not fond of children for all that, and Brulette -ought therefore to have the more credit for taking back her own in -spite of her love for company, and the questions she thus raised as -to the truth. - -All things considered, I did not see, even in what I might suppose -the worst of my cousin's conduct, anything that lowered my friendship -for her. Only I felt she had been so contradictory in her statements -that I no longer knew how to rely on them. If she loved Joseph then -she had certainly been artful; but if she did not love him, she had -been too lively in spirits and forgetful of what had happened, for a -person who was resolved to do her duty. - -If she had not been so ill-treated by the community, I might have -lessened my visits, for these doubts certainly lowered my confidence -in her; but on the contrary, I controlled myself and went to the -house every day, taking pains not to show her the least distrust. -For all this, I was continually surprised at the difficulty with -which she broke herself in, as it were, to the duties of a mother. -In spite of the weight of care I believed she had on her mind, there -were times when all her beauty and youth came back to her. She wore -neither silk nor laces, that is true, but her hair was silky, her -stockings well-fitting, and her pretty little feet were itching for a -dance wherever she saw a bit of greensward or heard the sound of the -bagpipes. Sometimes at home, when the thought of a Bourbonnais reel -came over her, she would put Charlot on her grandfather's knee and -make me dance it with her, singing and laughing and carrying herself -jauntily, as if all the parish were there to see her; but a minute -later, if Charlot cried or wanted to go to bed, or to be carried, or -to be fed when he wasn't hungry, or given drink that he didn't want, -she would take him in her arms with tears in her eyes, like a dog who -is being chained up, and then, with a sigh, she would croon him a -tune or pamper him with a bit of cake. - -Seeing how she regretted her gay life, I offered her my sister's -services in taking care of the little one, while she went to the -fêtes at Saint-Chartier. I must tell you that in those days there -lived in the old castle (of which nothing is now left but the shell) -an old maiden lady, who was very good-natured and gave balls to all -the country round. Tradesmen and noblemen, peasants and artisans, as -many as liked, went there. You saw gentlemen and ladies going along -the abominable roads in mid-winter, mounted on horses and donkeys, -and wearing silk stockings, silver shoe-buckles, and powdered wigs as -white as the snow on the trees along the road. Nothing deterred the -company, rich or poor, for they amused them hugely and were well -entertained from midday till six at night. - -The lady of Saint-Chartier, who had noticed Brulette dancing in the -market-place the year before, and was always anxious to have pretty -girls at her daylight balls, invited her, and by my advice, she went -once. I thought it was good advice, for she seemed to be getting -depressed and to make no effort to raise her spirits. She was always -so sweet to look at, and so ready with the right thing to say, that I -never thought it possible people wouldn't receive her kindly, -especially when she dressed so well and looked so handsome. - -When she entered on my arm, whisperings went round, but no one dared -to do more. She danced first with me, and as she had that sort of -charm that everybody yields to, others came and asked her, possibly -intending to show her some freedom, but not daring to risk it. All -went well till a party of rich folks came into the room where we -were; for the peasantry, I should tell you, had their ballroom apart -and did not mix with the rich till nearly the end, when the ladies, -deserted by their partners, would come and mingle with the country -girls, who attracted people of all kinds by their lively chatter and -their healthy looks. - -Brulette was at first stared at as the handsomest article of the -show, and the silk stockings paid such attention to the woollen -stockings that no one could get near her. Then, in the spirit of -contradiction, all those who had been tearing her to pieces for the -last six months became frantically jealous all at once, and more in -love than they had ever been. So then it was a struggle who should -invite her first; in fact, they were almost ready to fight for the -kiss that opened the dance. - -The ladies and the young ladies were provoked; and our class of women -complained to the lads for not keeping up their ill-will; but they -might as well have talked to the winds; one glance of a pretty girl -has more sweetness than the tongue of an ugly one has venom. - -"Well, Brulette," I said, on our way home, "Wasn't I right to tell -you to shake off your low spirits? You see the game is never lost if -you know how to play it boldly." - -"Thank you, cousin," she replied; "you are my best friend; indeed, I -think, you are the only true and faithful friend I have ever had. I -am glad to have got the better of my enemies, and now, I think I -shall never be dull at home again." - -"The devil! how fast you change! Yesterday it was all sulks, and -to-day it is all merriment! You'll take your place as queen of the -village." - -"No," she said, "you don't understand me. This is the last ball I -mean to go to so long as I keep Charlot; for, if you want me to tell -you the truth, I haven't enjoyed myself one bit. I put a good face -on it to please you, and I am glad, now it is over, to have done it; -but all the while I was thinking of that poor baby. I fancied him -crying and howling, no matter how kind your sister might be to him; -he is so awkward in making known his wants, and so annoying to -others." - -Brulette's words set my teeth on edge. I had forgotten the little -wretch when I saw her laughing and dancing. The love she no longer -concealed for him brought to my mind what seemed to be her past lies, -and I began to think she must be an utter deceiver, who had now grown -tired of restraining herself. - -"Then you love him as your own flesh and blood?" I cried, not -thinking much of the words I used. - -"My own flesh and blood?" she repeated, as if surprised. "Well, yes, -perhaps we love all children that way when we think of what we owe -them. I never pretended, as some girls do when they are craving to -get married, that my instincts were those of a brooding hen. Perhaps -my head was too giddy to deserve a family in my young days. I know -girls who can't sleep for thinking about it before they are sixteen. -But I have got to be twenty, without feeling that I am rather late. -If it is wrong, it is not my fault. I am as God made me, and I have -gone along as he pushed me. To tell the truth, a baby is a hard -task-master, unreasonable as a crazy husband and obstinate as a -hungry animal. I like justice and good sense, and I should much -prefer quieter and more sensible company. Also I like cleanliness; -you have often laughed at me for worrying about a speck of dust on -the dresser and letting a fly in the milk turn my stomach. Now a -baby is always getting into the dirt, no matter how you may try to -prevent it. And then I am fond of thinking, and dreaming, and -recollecting things; but a baby won't let you think of anything but -his wants, and gets angry if you pay no attention to him. But all -that is neither here nor there, Tiennet, when God takes the matter in -hand. He invented a sort of miracle which takes place inside of us -when need be; and now I know a thing which I never believed until it -happened to me, and that is that a child, no matter how ugly and -ill-tempered it is, may be bitten by a wolf or trampled by a goat, -but never by a woman, and that he will end by managing her--unless -she is made of another wood than the rest of us." - -As she said this we were entering my house, where Charlot was playing -with my sister's children. "Well, I'm glad you have come," said my -sister to Brulette; "you certainty have the most ill-tempered child -that ever lived. He has beaten mine, and bitten them, and provoked -them, and one needs forty cartloads of patience and pity to get along -with him." - -Brulette laughed, and going up to Charlot, who never gave her any -welcome, she said, as she watched him playing after his fashion, and -as if he could understand what she said: "I knew very well you could -not make these kind people love you. There is no one but me, you -poor little screech-owl, who can put up with your claws and your -beak." - -Though Charlot was only eighteen months old it seemed as if he really -understood what Brulette was saying; for he got up, after looking at -her for a moment with a thoughtful air, and jumped upon her and -seized her hand and devoured it with kisses. - -"Hey!" cried my sister, "then he really has his good moments, after -all?" - -"My dear," said Brulette, "I am just as much astounded as you are. -This is the first time I have ever known him behave so." Then, -kissing Charlot on his heavy eyelids she began to cry with joy and -tenderness. - -I can't tell why I was overcome by the action, as if there were -something marvellous in it. But, in good truth, if the child was not -hers, Brulette at that moment was transformed before my eyes. This -girl, so proud-spirited that she wouldn't have shrunk before the king -six months ago, and who that very morning had had all the lads of the -neighborhood, rich and poor, at her knee, had gathered such pity and -Christianity into her heart that she thought herself rewarded for all -her trouble by the first kisses of an odious little slobberer, who -had no pleasant ways and indeed seemed half-idiotic. - -The tears were in my eyes, thinking of what those kisses cost her, -and taking Charlot on my shoulder, I carried him back with her to her -own door. - -Twenty times I had it on my tongue to ask her the truth; for if she -had done wrong as to Charlot, I was ready to forgive her the sin, but -if, on the contrary, she was bearing the burden of other people's -guilt, I desired to kiss her feet as the sweetest and most patient -winner of Paradise. - -But I dared not ask her any questions, and when I told my doubts to -my sister, who was no fool, she replied: "If you dare not question -her it is because in the depths of your heart you know her to be -innocent. Besides," she added, "such a fine girl would have -manufactured a better-looking boy. He is no more like her than a -potato is like a rose." - - - - -TWENTY-FIRST EVENING. - -The winter passed and the spring came, but Brulette never went back -to her amusements. She did not even regret them, having seen that -she could still be mistress of all hearts if she chose; but she said -that so many men and women had betrayed her friendship that now she -should care for quality only, not quantity. The poor child did not -then know all the wrong that had been done to her. Everybody had -vilified her, but no one had yet dared to insult her. When they -looked at her they saw virtue written on her face; but when her back -was turned they revenged themselves in words, for the respect which -they could not help feeling, and they yelped at her heels like a -cowardly dog that dares not spring at your face. - -Père Brulet was getting old; he grew deafer, and lived so much in -himself, like all aged people, that he paid no attention to the talk -of the town. Father and daughter were therefore less troubled than -people hoped to make them, and my own father, who was of a wise and -Christian spirit (as were the rest of my family), advised me, and -also set me the example, not to worry them about it, saying that the -truth would come to light some day and the wicked tongues be punished. - -Time, which is a grand sweeper, began, before long, to get rid of the -vile dust. Brulette, who disdained revenge, would take none but that -of receiving very coldly the advances that were made to her. It -happened, as it usually does, that she found friends among those who -had never been her lovers, and these friends, having no interest of -their own, protected her in a way that she was not aware of. I am -not speaking of Mariton, who was like a mother to her, and who, in -her inn bar-room, came very near flinging the jugs at the heads of -the drinkers when they ventured to sing out "Josette;" but I mean -persons whom no one could accuse of blindly supporting her, and who -shamed her detractors. - -Thus it was that Brulette had brought herself down, at first with -difficulty, then, little by little, contentedly, to a quieter life -than in the past. She was visited by sensible persons, and came -often to our house, bringing Charlot, whose swollen face had improved -during the preceding winter, while his temper had grown much more -amiable. The child was really not so ugly as he was coarse, and -after Brulette had tamed him by the winsome force of her gentleness -and affection we saw that his big black eyes were not without -intelligence, and that when his broad mouth was willing to smile it -was really more funny than hideous. He had passed through a drooling -illness, during which Brulette, formerly so easily disgusted, had -nursed him and wiped him and tended him carefully, till he was now -the healthiest little fellow, and the nicest and the cleanest in the -village. His jaws were still too heavy and his nose too short for -beauty, but inasmuch as health is the chief thing with the little -beggars, every one took notice of his size, his strength, and his -determined air. - -But the thing that made Brulette proudest of her handiwork was that -Charlot became every day prettier in speech and more generous in -heart. When she first had him he swore in a way to daunt a regiment; -but she had made him forget all that, and had taught him a number of -nice little prayers, and all sorts of amusing and quaint sayings, -which he employed in his own way to the entertainment of everybody. -He was not born affectionate and would never kiss any one willingly, -but for his darling, as he called Brulette, he showed such a violent -attachment that if he had done anything naughty,--such as cutting up -his pinafore to make cravats, or sticking his sabots into the -soup-pot, he would forestall all reproaches and cling to her neck -with such strength that she hadn't the heart to scold him. - -In May of that year we were invited to the wedding of a cousin at -Chassin, who sent over a cart the night before to fetch us, with a -message to Brulette that if she did not come and bring Charlot, it -would throw a gloom over the marriage day. - -Chassin is a pretty place on the river Gourdon, about six miles -distant from our village. The country reminded me slightly of the -Bourbonnais. Brulette, who was a small eater, soon left the noise of -the feast, and went to walk outside and amuse Charlot. "Indeed," she -said to me, "I should like to take him into some quiet, shady place; -for this is his sleeping-time, and the noise of the party keeps him -awake, and I am afraid he will be very cross this evening." - -As it was very hot, I offered to take her into a little wood, -formerly kept as a warren, which adjoins the old castle, and being -chokeful of briers and ditches, is a very sheltered and retired spot. -"Very good," she said, "the little one can sleep on my petticoat, and -you can go back and enjoy yourself." - -When we got there I begged her to let me stay. - -"I am not so devoted to weddings as I once was," I said to her. "I -shall amuse myself as well, if not better, talking with you. A party -is very tiresome if you are not among your own people and don't know -what to do." - -"Very well," she replied, "but I see plainly, my poor cousin, that I -am a weight upon your hands; and yet you take it with such patience -and good-will that I don't know how I shall ever do without it. -However, that time must come, for you are now of an age to settle, -and the wife you choose may cast an evil eye upon me, as so many do, -and might never be brought to believe that I deserve your friendship -and hers." - -"It is too soon to worry yourself about that," I replied, settling -the fat Charlot on my blouse, which I laid on the grass while she sat -down beside him to keep off the flies. "I am not thinking of -marriage, and if I were, I swear my wife should keep on good terms -with you or I would be on bad terms with her. She would have a -crooked heart indeed if she could not see that my regard for you is -the most honorable of all friendships, and if she couldn't comprehend -that having followed you through all your joys and all your troubles, -I am so accustomed to your companionship that you and I are one. But -how about you, cousin? are you thinking of marriage, or have you -sworn off on that subject?" - -"Oh! as for me, yes, I think so, Tiennet, if it suits the will of -God. I am all but of age, and I think I have waited so long for the -wish to marry that now I have let the time go by." - -"Perhaps it is only just beginning, dear. The love of amusement has -gone, and the love of children has come, and I see how you are -settling down to a quiet home life; but nevertheless you are still in -your spring-time, like the earth whose flowers are just blooming. -You know I don't flatter you, and so you may believe me when I tell -you that you have never been so pretty, though you have grown rather -pale--like Thérence, the girl of the woods. You have even caught a -sad little look like hers, which goes very well with your plain caps -and that gray gown. The fact is, I believe your inside being has -changed and you are going to be a sister of charity--if you are not -in love." - -"Don't talk about that, my dear friend," cried Brulette. "I might -have turned either to love or piety a year ago. I felt, as you say, -changed within. But now, here I am, tied to the cares of life -without finding either the sweetness of love or the strength of -faith. It seems to me that I am tied to a yoke and can only push -forward by my head, without knowing what sort of cart I am dragging -behind me. You see that I am not very sad under it and that I don't -mean to die of it; and yet, I own that I regret something in my -life--not what has been, but what might have been." - -"Come, Brulette," I said, sitting down by her and taking her hand, -"perhaps the time has come for confidence. You can tell me -everything without fear of my feeling grief or jealousy. I am cured -of wishing for anything that you can't give me. But give me one -thing, for it is my due,--give me your confidence about your -troubles." - -Brulette became scarlet and made an effort to speak, but could not -say a word. It almost seemed as if I were forcing her to confess to -her own soul, and she had foreborne so long that now she did not know -how to do it. - -She raised her beautiful eyes and looked at the country before us, -for we were sitting at the edge of the wood, on a grassy terrace -overlooking a pretty valley broken up into rolling ground green with -cultivation. At our feet flowed the little river, and beyond, the -ground rose rapidly under a fine wood of full-grown oaks, less -extensive but boasting as large trees as any we had seen in the -forest of Alleu. I saw in Brulette's eyes the thoughts she was -thinking, and taking her hand, which she had withdrawn from mine to -press her heart as if it pained her, I said, in a tone that was -neither jest nor mischief,-- - -"Tell me, is it Huriel or Joseph?" - -"It is not Joseph!" she replied, hastily. - -"Then it is Huriel; but are you free to follow your inclinations?" - -"How can I have any inclinations," she answered, blushing more and -more, "for a person who has doubtless never thought of me?" - -"That is no reason." - -"Yes it is, I tell you." - -"No, I swear it isn't. I had plenty of inclination for you." - -"But you got over it." - -"And you are trying hard to get over yours; that shows you are still -ill of it. But Joseph?" - -"Well, what of Joseph?" - -"You were never bound to him?" - -"You know that well enough!" - -"But--Charlot?" - -"Charlot?" - -As my eyes turned to the child, hers turned too; then they fell back -on me, so puzzled, so clear with innocence, that I was ashamed of my -suspicions as though I had offered her an insult. - -"Oh, nothing," I replied, hastily. "I said 'Charlot' because I -thought he was waking up." - -At that moment a sound of bagpipes reached us from the other side of -the river among the oaks, and Brulette trembled like a leaf in the -wind. - -"There!" said I, "the bride's dance is beginning, and I do believe -they are sending the music to fetch you." - -"No, no," said Brulette, who had grown very pale, "neither the air -nor the instrument belong to this region. Tiennet, Tiennet, either I -am crazy--or he who is down there--" - -"Do you see him?" I cried, running to the edge of the terrace and -looking with all my eyes; "can it be Père Bastien?" - -"I see no one," she said, having followed me, "but it was not Père -Bastien--neither was it Joseph--it was--" - -"Huriel, perhaps! that seems to me less certain than the river that -parts us. But let us go at any rate; we may find a ford, and if he -is there we shall certainly catch him, the gay muleteer, and find out -what he is thinking about." - -"No, Tiennet, I can't leave Charlot." - -"The devil take that child! Then wait for me here; I am going alone." - -"No, no, no! Tiennet," cried Brulette, holding me with both hands; -"it is dangerous to go down that steep place." - -"Whether I break my neck or not, I am going to put you out of your -misery." - -"What misery?" she exclaimed, still holding me, but recovering from -her first agitation by an effort of pride. "What does it matter to -me whether Huriel or some one else is in the wood? Do you suppose I -want you to run after a man who, knowing I was close by, wanted to -pass on?" - -"If that is what you think," said a soft voice behind us, "I think we -had better go away." - -We turned round at the first word, and there was Thérence, the -beautiful Thérence, before our eyes. - -At the sight Brulette, who had fretted so much at being forgotten by -her, lost all her nerve and fell into Thérence's arms with a great -burst of tears. - -"Well, well!" said Thérence, kissing her with the energy of a -daughter of the woods. "Did you think I had forgotten our -friendship? Why do you judge hardly of people who have never passed -a day without thinking of you?" - -"Tell her quickly if your brother is here, Thérence," I cried, -"for--" Brulette, turning quickly, put her hand on my lips, and I -caught myself up, adding, with a laugh, "for I am dying to see him." - -"My brother is over there," said Thérence, "but he does not know you -are so near. Listen, he is going farther off; you can hardly hear -his music now." - -She looked at Brulette, who had grown pale again, and added, -laughing: "He is too far off to call him; but he will soon turn and -come round by the ruined castle. Then, if you don't disdain him, -Brulette, and will not prevent me, I shall give him a surprise he -does not expect; for he did not think of seeing you till to-night. -We were on our way to your village to pay you a visit, and it is a -great happiness to me to have met you here and saved a delay in our -meeting. Let us go under the trees, for if he sees you from where he -is, he is capable of drowning himself in that river in trying to get -to you, not knowing the fords." - -We turned back and sat down near Charlot, Thérence asking, with that -grand, simple manner of hers, whether he was mine. "Not unless I -have been married a long time," I answered, "which is not so." - -"True," she said, looking closely at the child, "he is already a -little man; but you might have been married before you came to us." - -Then she added, laughing, that she knew little about the growth of -babies, never seeing any in the woods where she always lived, and -where few parents ever reared their children. "You will find me as -much of a savage as ever," she continued, "but a good deal less -irritable, and I hope my dear Brulette will have no cause to complain -of my ill-temper." - -"I do think," said Brulette, "that you seem gayer, and better in -health,--and so much handsomer that it dazzles my eyes to look at -you." - -The same thought had struck my mind on seeing Thérence. She had laid -in a stock of health and fresh clear color in her cheeks which made -her another woman. If her eyes were still too deep sunken, the black -brows no longer lowered over them and hid their fire; and though her -smile was still proud, there was a charming gayety in it at times, -which made her teeth gleam like dewdrops on a flower. The pallor of -fever had left her face, which the May sun had rather burned during -her journey, though it had made the roses bloom; and there was -something, I scarcely know what, so youthful, so strong, so valiant -in her face, that my heart jumped with an idea that came to me, -heaven knows how, as I looked to see if the velvety black mark at the -corner of her mouth was still in the same place. - -"Friends," she said, wiping her beautiful hair, which curled -naturally and which the heat had glued to her forehead, "as we have a -little time to talk before my brother joins us, I want to tell you my -story, without any false shame or pretences; for several other -stories hang upon it. Only, before I begin, tell me, Brulette, if -Tiennet, whom you used to think so much of, is, as I think he is, -still the same, so that I can take up the conversation where we left -it--a year ago come next harvest." - -"Yes, dear Thérence, that you may," answered my cousin, pleased at -her friend's tone. - -"Well, then, Tiennet," continued Thérence, with a valiant sincerity -all her own, which made the difference between her and the reserved -and timid Brulette, "I reveal nothing you did not know in telling you -that before your visit to us last year I attached myself to a poor -fellow, sick and sad in mind and body, very much as a mother is -attached to her child. I did not then know he loved another girl, -and he, seeing my regard for him, which I did not hide, had not the -courage to tell me it was not returned. Why Joseph--for I can name -him, and you see, dear friends, that I don't change color in doing -so--why Joseph, whom I had so often entreated to tell me the causes -of his grief, should have sworn to me it was nothing more than a -longing for his mother and his own country, I do not know. He must -have thought me base, and he did me great injustice; for, had he told -me the truth, I myself would have gone to fetch Brulette without a -murmur, and without making the great mistake of forming a low opinion -of her which I did, and which I now confess, and ask her to pardon." - -"You did that long ago, Thérence, and there is nothing to pardon -where friendship is." - -"Yes, dear," replied Thérence, "but the wrong which you forget, I -remember, and I would have given the world to repair it by taking -good care of Joseph, and showing him friendship and good-nature after -you left us. Remember, friends, that I had never said or done a -false thing; so that in my childhood, my father, who is a good judge, -used to call me Thérence the Sincere. When I last saw you, on the -banks of your own Indre, half-way to your village, I spoke privately -with Joseph for a moment, begging him to return to us and promising -there should be no change in my interest and care for his health and -well-being. Why, then, did he disbelieve me in his heart; and why, -promising with his lips to return (a lie of which I was not the -dupe),--why did he contemptuously leave me forever, as though I were -a shameless girl who would torment him with love-sick folly?" - -"Do you mean to say," I interrupted, "that Joseph, who stayed only -twenty-four hours with us, did not return to your woods,--if only to -tell you his plans and say good-bye? Since he left us that day we -have heard nothing of him." - -"If you have had no news of him," replied Thérence, "I have some to -give you. He did return--by night, like a thief who fears the -sunshine. He went to his own lodge and took his clothes and his -bagpipe, and went away without crossing the threshold of my father's -hut, or so much as glancing our way. I was awake and saw it all. I -watched every action, and when he disappeared in the woods, I felt I -was as rigid as death. My father warmed me in the rays of the good -God and his own great heart. He took me away to the open moor, and -talked to me all one day, and all the next night, till I was able to -pray and sleep. You know my father a little, dear friends, but you -cannot know how he loves his children, how he comforts them, how he -finds just the right thing to say to make them like himself, who is -an angel from heaven hidden under the bark of an old oak! My father -cured me. If it were not for him, I should despise Joseph; as it is, -I have only ceased to love him." - -Ending thus, Thérence again wiped her fine forehead, wet with -perspiration, drew a long breath, kissed Brulette, and held out to -me, laughing, her large and well-shaped white hand, and shook mine -with the frankness of a young man. - - - - -TWENTY-SECOND EVENING. - -I saw that Brulette was inclined to blame Joseph very severely, and I -thought I ought to defend him a little. "I don't approve of his -conduct so far as it shows ingratitude to you, Thérence," I said, -"but inasmuch as you are now able to judge him quite fairly, won't -you admit that at the bottom of his heart there was a sense of -respect for you and a fear of deceiving you? All the world is not -like you, my beautiful girl of the woods, and I think that very few -persons have a pure enough heart and courage enough to go straight to -the point and tell things just as they are. You have an amount of -strength and virtue in you of which Joseph, and many others in his -place, would be wholly incapable." - -"I don't understand you," said Thérence. - -"I do," said Brulette; "Joseph feared, perhaps, to put himself in the -way of being charmed by your beauty, and of loving you for that, -without giving you his whole heart as you deserved." - -"Oh!" cried Thérence, scarlet with wounded pride, "that is just what -I complain of. Say it boldly. Joseph feared to entice me into -wrong-doing. He took no account of my good sense or my honor. Well, -his respect would have consoled me; his fear is humiliating. Never -mind, Brulette, I forgive him, because I no longer suffer, and I feel -myself above him; but nothing can ever take out of my heart the sense -that Joseph was ungrateful to me, and took a low view of his duty. I -would ask you to let us say no more about it, if I were not obliged -to tell you the rest; but I must speak, otherwise you will not know -what to think of my brother's conduct." - -"Ah, Thérence!" said Brulette, "I long to know what were the -consequences of that misfortune which troubled us all so much over -there." - -"My brother did not do as we expected," replied Thérence. "Instead -of hiding his unfortunate secret in distant places, he retraced his -steps at the end of a week, and went to find the Carmelite friar in -his convent, which is over by Montluçon. 'Brother Nicolas,' he said -to him, 'I can't live with such a weight on my heart. You told me to -confess myself to God, but there is such a thing as justice on this -earth; it may not be practised, but it is none the less a law from -heaven. I must confess before men, and bear the blame and the -penalty I deserve.' 'One moment, my son,' answered the friar; 'men -invented the penalty of death, which God disapproves, and they might -kill you deliberately for having killed another unintentionally.' -'That is not possible,' said my brother; 'I never intended to kill -him, and I can prove it.' 'To prove it you must call witnesses,' -said the monk, 'and that will compromise your comrades and your -chief, who is my nephew, and no more a murderer than you in his -heart; you will expose them all to be harassed by the law, and you -will see them forced to betray the oaths of your fraternity. Come, -stay here in my convent, and wait for me. I will undertake to settle -the matter, provided you won't ask me too closely how I have done it.' - -"Thereupon the friar went to consult his abbé, who sent him to the -bishop, whom we call in our parts the chief priest, as they did in -the olden time, and who is the bishop of Montluçon. The chief -priest, who has a right to be heard by the chief judges, said and did -things we know nothing about. Then he sent for my brother and said -to him, 'My son, confess yourself to me as you would to God.' When -Huriel had told him the whole truth, from end to end, the bishop -said: 'Repent and do penance, my son. The matter is settled before -men; you have nothing to dread in future; but you must appease the -wrath of God, and in order to do that, I desire you to leave the -company and brotherhood of the muleteers, who are men without -religion and whose secret practices are contrary to the laws of -heaven and earth.' My brother having humbly remarked to him that -there were honest folk among them, the chief priest replied: 'So much -the worse; if those honest folk refused to take the oaths they -require, the society would cease to do evil, and would become a -corporation of working-men as respectable as any other.' My brother -thought over these words of the chief priest, and would have wished -to reform the practices of his fraternity rather than do away with -them altogether. He went to meet an assembly of muleteers and talked -to them very sensibly,--so they told me; but after listening to him -quietly, they answered that they neither could nor would change any -of their customs. Whereupon he paid his forfeit and sold his mules, -keeping only the _clairin_ for our use. So Brulette, you are not -going to see a muleteer, but a good, steady wood-cutter who works for -his father." - -"And who may find it very hard to get accustomed to such work," said -Brulette, hiding the pleasure this news gave her. - -"If he did find it hard to change his ways of life," answered -Thérence, "he is well consoled when he remembers how afraid you were -of the muleteers, and that in your country they are looked upon as an -abomination. But now that I have satisfied your impatience to know -how my brother got out of his troubles, I must tell you something -more about Joseph, which may make you angry, Brulette, though it will -also astonish you." - -As Thérence said that with a spice of malice and a laugh, Brulette -showed no uneasiness, and told her to explain. - -"You must know," continued Thérence, "that we have spent the last -three months in the forest of Montaigu, where we met Joseph, in good -health, but serious as usual, and still wrapped up in himself. If -you want to know where he now is, I will tell you that we have left -him there with my father, who is helping him to get admitted to the -association of bagpipers; for you know, or you don't know, that they -too, are a fraternity, and have secret practices which others know -nothing about. At first Joseph was rather embarrassed at seeing us. -He seemed ashamed to speak to me and might have avoided us altogether -if my father, after reproaching him for his want of confidence and -friendship, had not pressed him to remain,--for he knew he could -still be useful to him. When Joseph perceived that I was quite at my -ease and had no unkind recollections, he made bold to ask for the -return of our friendship, and he even tried to excuse his conduct; -but my father, who would not let him lay a finger on my wound, turned -the matter into a joke, and made him go to work, both in the woods -and at his music, so as to bring the matter to an end as soon as -possible. I was a good deal astonished that he never mentioned any -of you, and I questioned him without getting a word out of him. -Neither my brother nor I had heard anything of you (until last week, -when we came through the village of Huriel). We were much worried -about you, and my father told Joseph rather sharply that if he had -letters from his own people he ought at least to tell us whether you -were dead or alive. Joseph answered shortly, in a voice that sounded -very hollow: 'Everybody is well, and so am I.' My father, who never -beats about the bush, told him to speak out, but he answered stiffly, -'I tell you, master, that our friends over there are well and quite -contented, and if you will give me your daughter in marriage I shall -be contented too.' At first we thought he was crazy, and tried to -make a joke of it, though his manner made us rather uneasy. But he -returned to the subject two days later, and asked me if I had any -regard for him. I took no other revenge for his tardy offer than to -say, 'Yes, Joseph, I have as much regard for you as Brulette has.' -He drew in his lips, lowered his head, and did not say another word. -But my brother, having questioned him later, received this reply: -'Huriel, I no longer think of Brulette, and I beg you never to -mention her to me again.' We could get nothing more out of him -except that he was resolved, as soon as he should be received into -the fraternity of bagpipers, to begin his service for a time in his -own country, and prove to his mother that he was able to support her; -after which he intended to take her to live with him in La Marche or -the Bourbonnais, provided I would become his wife. This brought -about a grand explanation between my father, my brother, and myself. -Both tried to make me own that I might be induced to consent. But -Joseph had come back too late for me, and I had made too many -reflections about him. I quietly refused, feeling no longer any -regard for him, and conscious also that he had none for me. I am too -proud a girl to be taken as a remedy for disappointment. I supposed -you had written him to put an end to his hopes." - -"No," said Brulette, "I did not, and it is only by the mercy of God -that he has forgotten me. Perhaps it was that he began to know you -better, my Thérence." - -"No, no," cried the girl of the woods, resolutely, "If it was not -disappointment at your refusal, it was pique at my cure. He only -cared for me because I had ceased to care for him. If that is his -love, it is not mine, Brulette. All or nothing; yes for life, in all -frankness; or no for life, with all freedom. There's that child -waking up," she continued, interrupting herself, "and I want to take -you to my new abode for a moment; it is in the old castle of Chassin." - -"But won't you tell us," said Brulette, who was very much puzzled by -all she heard, "how and why you are in this part of the country?" - -"You are in too much of a hurry to know," replied Thérence; "I want -you to see first." - -Taking Brulette round the neck with her beautiful bare arm, well -browned by the sun, she led her away without giving her time to take -Charlot, whom she herself caught up like a bundle under her other -arm, although he was now as heavy as a little calf. - -The fief of Chassin was once a castle, as I have heard say, with -seignorial rights and laws; but at the time of which I am telling, -nothing remained of the building but the porch, which was a structure -of some importance, heavily built, and so arranged that there were -lodging-rooms on both sides of it. It seemed that the part of the -building which I have called a porch, the use of which is difficult -to explain at the present time (on account of its peculiar -construction), was really a vaulted chamber leading to other -buildings; for as to those that still remain around the courtyard, -which are only miserable stables and dilapidated barns, I don't know -what uses they could have been put to, or what comfort could have -been found in them. There were still, at the time of which I am -speaking, three or four unfurnished rooms which seemed quite ancient, -but if any great lord ever took his pleasure in them he must have -wanted very little of that article. - -And yet it was among these ruins that happiness was awaiting some of -those whose history I am telling you; and, as if there were something -within each human being which tells him in advance of coming -blessings, neither Brulette nor I saw anything sad or ugly in this -old place. The grassy courtyard, surrounded on two sides by the -ruins and on the other two by the moat and the little wood through -which we passed; the great hedge, where I saw with surprise shrubs -which are seen only in the gardens of the wealthy (showing that the -place had once known care and beauty); the clumsy gateway, choked up -with rubbish, where stone benches could still be seen, as if in -former days some warder had had charge of this barrack then -considered precious; the long brambles which ran from end to end of -this squalid enclosure,--all these things, which made the whole place -resemble a prison, closed, deserted, and forgotten, seemed as -cheerful to our eyes as the springtide sun which was forcing its way -in through the crevices and drying up the dampness. Perhaps, too, -the sight of our old acquaintance, the _clairin_, who was feeding on -the turf, gave us warning of the coming of a true friend. I think he -recognized us, for he came up to be stroked, and Brulette could not -refrain from kissing the white star on his forehead. - -"This is my château," said Thérence, taking us into a room where her -bed and other bits of furniture were already installed; "and there -you see Huriel's room and my father's on the other side." - -"Your father! then he is coming!" I cried, jumping for joy. "I am so -glad, for there is no man under the sun I like better." - -"And right you are," said Thérence, tapping my ear in sign of -friendship. "And he likes you. Well, you will see him if you come -back next week, and even--but it is too soon to speak of that. Here -is the master." - -Brulette blushed, thinking it was Huriel that Thérence meant; but it -was only the foreign dealer who had bought the timber of the forest -of Chassin. - -I say "forest" because, no doubt, there were forests there once, -which joined the small but beautiful growth of lofty trees that we -saw beyond the river. As the name remains, it is to be supposed it -was not bestowed for nothing. The conversation which ensued between -Thérence and the wood-merchant explained to us very quickly the whole -thing. He came from the Bourbonnais, and had long known the -Head-Woodsman and his family as hard-working people who kept their -word. Being in quest, through his business, of some tall masts for -the king's navy, he had discovered these remains of a virgin forest -(very rare indeed in our country), and had given the work of felling -and trimming the trees to Père Bastien; and the latter had taken it -all the more willingly because his son and daughter, knowing the -place to be in our neighborhood, were delighted with the idea of -spending the whole summer and perhaps part of the winter near us. - -The Head-Woodsman was allowed the selection and management of his -workmen under a contract with forfeiture between himself and the -purchaser of the timber; and the latter had induced the owner of the -estate to cede him the use, gratis, of the old castle, where he, a -well-to-do tradesman, would have thought himself very ill-lodged, but -where a family of wood-cutters might be far better off as the season -grew late than in their usual lodges of logs and heather. - -Huriel and his sister had arrived that morning; the one had -immediately begun to install herself, the other had been making -acquaintance with the wood, the land, and the people of the -neighborhood. - -We overheard the purchaser reminding Thérence, who talked business as -well as any man, of a condition in his agreement with Père -Bastien,--namely, that he would employ none but Bourbonnais workmen -to prepare the trunks, inasmuch as they alone understood the work and -would not spoil the finest pieces, like the laborers of our part of -the country. "Very good," replied the woodland girl; "but for the -branches and light-wood we shall employ whom we please. We do not -think it wise to take all the work away from the people of the -neighborhood, who might be annoyed and molest us in consequence. -They are already ill-inclined to all who are not of their parish." - -"Now listen, my dear Brulette," she said, when the dealer had -departed, "it is my opinion that, if nothing detains you in your -village, you might persuade your grandfather to employ his time very -pleasantly here this summer. You have told me that he is still a -good workman, and he would have to do with a good master,--I mean my -father, who would let him work at his ease. You could lodge here at -no expense and we would share the housekeeping together." - -Then, while Brulette was burning with the desire to say yes, but not -daring to betray herself, Thérence added, "If you hesitate, I shall -think your heart is given in your own village and that my brother has -come too late." - -"Too late!" cried a ringing voice which came from the ivy-covered -window. "God grant that those words be false!" - -And Huriel, handsome and fresh-looking as he always was when the -charcoal no longer concealed him, sprang into the room and caught -Brulette in his arms to kiss her on the cheeks; for he wouldn't stand -on ceremony, and he had no notion of the rather icy behavior of the -people in our parts. He seemed so glad, and talked so loud, and -laughed so heartily that she could not be angry with him. He kneaded -me like a bit of dough and jumped about the room as if joy and -friendship had the effect of new wine. - -All of a sudden he spied Charlot and stopped short, tried to look -away, forced himself to say a few words which had no connection with -the child, then sat down on his sister's bed and turned so pale that -I thought he was going to faint away. - -"What's the matter with him?" cried Thérence, amazed. Then, touching -his head, she said, "Good heavens, it is a cold sweat! Do you feel -ill?" - -"No, no," said Huriel, rising and shaking himself. "It is joy--the -sudden excitement--it is nothing." - -Just then the mother of the bride came to ask why we had left the -wedding, and whether Brulette or the child were ill. Seeing that we -were detained by the company of strangers, she very politely invited -Huriel and Thérence to come with us to the feast and to the dance. -This woman, who was my aunt, being the sister of my father and -Brulette's deceased father, seemed to me to know the secret of -Charlot's birth; for she had asked no questions and had taken great -care of him when brought to her house. I had even heard of her -saying that he was a relative, and the people of Chassin had no -suspicion about the child. - -As Huriel, who was still troubled in mind, merely thanked my aunt -without giving any decided answer, Thérence roused him with the -remark that Brulette was obliged to go back to the wedding, and that -if he did not go he might lose his opportunity of bringing about what -they both desired. Huriel, however, was still uneasy and hesitating, -when Brulette said to him, "Do you really not wish to dance with me -to-day?" - -"Do you speak true, Brulette?" he said, looking her in the eye. "Do -you wish me for a partner?" - -"Yes," she said, "for I remember how well you dance." - -"Is that the only reason why you wish for me?" - -Brulette was embarrassed, thinking that the fellow was too much in a -hurry, yet not daring to play off her former coquettish little airs, -so fearful was she of seeing him hurt or disappointed again. But -Thérence tried to help her out by reproaching Huriel for asking too -much the first day. - -"You are right, sister," he answered. "And yet I cannot behave -differently. Hear me, Brulette, and forgive me. You must promise to -have no other partner but me at this wedding, or I cannot go at all." - -"What a funny fellow!" cried my aunt, who was a lively little woman -and took all things for the best. "A lover of yours, my Brulette? I -see that plainly; and no half-hearted one either! But, my lad," she -added, turning to Huriel, "I would have you know that it is not the -custom in these parts to show all you feel; and no one dances several -times running with a girl unless there has been promise of heart and -hand." - -"It is here as it is with us, my good dame," replied Huriel; -"nevertheless, with or without promise of her heart, Brulette must -now promise me her hand for the whole dance." - -"If she wishes it, I shall not prevent her," said my aunt, "she is a -sensible girl, who knows very well how to behave. I have done my -duty in warning her that she will be talked about." - -"Brother," said Thérence, "I think you are crazy. Is that the way to -do with Brulette, whom you know to be so reserved, and who has never -yet given you the rights you claim?" - -"Yes, I may be mad, and she may be shy," said Huriel, "but all the -same my madness must gain the day and her shyness lose it, and at -once. I ask nothing more of her than to allow me to dance with her -to the end of this wedding. If after that she does not wish to hear -of me again, she is mistress of her actions." - -"That is all very well," said my aunt, "but the harm will then have -been done, and if you withdraw from her then who will repair it?" - -"She knows that I shall not withdraw," said Huriel. - -"If you know that," said my aunt to Brulette, "why don't you explain -yourself? I really can't understand this matter at all. Did you -engage yourself to this lad in the Bourbonnais?" - -"No," said Huriel, without giving Brulette time to answer. "I have -never asked her, never! What I now ask of her she, and she alone, -without consulting any one, must decide to grant or not, as she -chooses." - -Brulette, trembling like a leaf, had turned to the wall and was -hiding her face in her hands. If she was glad to find Huriel so -resolute about her, she was also annoyed that he had no compassion -for her natural hesitation and timidity. She was not made, like -Thérence, to speak out a noble "yes" before all the world; so being, -and not knowing how else to get out of the matter, she took refuge in -her eyes and began to cry. - - - - -TWENTY-THIRD EVENING. - -"You are a downright bashaw, my friend," said my aunt to Huriel, -giving him a push away from Brulette, whom he had approached in much -excitement. Then, taking her niece's hands, she soothed her and -asked her very gently to tell her the real meaning of it all. - -"If your grandfather were here," she said, "he would explain what -there is between you and this stranger lad, and we could then leave -the matter to his judgment; but since I am here now as father and -mother both, you must confide in me. Do you wish me to put an end to -this pursuit? Shall I, instead of inviting this brute, or this -rogue,--for I don't know which to call him,--tell him that he must -let you alone?" - -"Exactly," said Huriel, "that's what I want. I want her to say what -she wishes, and I will obey her without anger, and she shall still -retain my friendship and respect. If she thinks me a brute or a -rogue let her pack me off. Speak, Brulette; I shall always be your -friend and servant,--you know that very well." - -"Be what you will," said Brulette at last, rising and giving him her -hand; "you protected me in danger, and you have suffered such -troubles on my account that I neither can nor will refuse so little a -thing as to dance with you as much as you like." - -"But think what your aunt has said," replied Huriel, holding her -hand. "You will be talked of, and if nothing good comes of it -between us, which on your side may still be, any plan you may have -for another marriage would be destined or delayed." - -"Well, that is a less danger than the one you threw yourself into on -my account," said Brulette. "Aunt, please excuse me," she added, "if -I cannot explain matters just now; but believe that your niece loves -and respects you, and will never give you reason to blush for her." - -"I am certain of that," said my aunt; "but what answer am I to give -to the questions they will be sure to ask?" - -"None at all, aunt," said Brulette, resolutely. "I can afford to put -up with all their talk; you know I am in the habit of doing so." - -"Thank you, darling of my heart!" cried Huriel, kissing her hand six -or seven times. "You shall never repent what you have granted to me." - -"Are you coming, you obstinate fellow?" said my aunt; "I can't stay -away any longer, and if I don't carry Brulette down there at once, -the bride is capable of leaving the wedding and coming after her." - -"Go down, Brulette!" cried Thérence, "and leave the baby with me; I -promise I will take care of him." - -"Won't you come, too, my handsome Bourbonnaise?" said my aunt, who -could not keep her eyes off Thérence, "I count upon you." - -"I will go later, my good woman," replied Thérence. "But just now I -want to give my brother suitable clothes in which to do honor to your -invitation; for, as you see, we are still in our travelling things." - -My aunt carried off Brulette, who wanted to take Charlot; but -Thérence insisted on keeping him, wishing to leave her brother free -with his darling without the trouble and annoyance of a small child. -This was not at all satisfactory to Charlot, who set up a yell when -he saw that Brulette was leaving him, and fought with all his -strength in Thérence's arms; but she, looking at him with a grave and -determined manner, said quietly:-- - -"You must be quiet, my boy; you must, you know." - -Charlot, who had never been ordered in his life, was so astonished at -her tone that he gave in immediately; but as I saw that Brulette was -distressed at leaving him with a girl who had never in her life -touched a baby, I promised to bring him to her myself if there should -be the least trouble, and persuaded her to go with our good little -aunt who was getting impatient. - -Huriel, urged by his sister, went off to his room to shave and dress, -and I, left alone with Thérence, helped her to unpack her boxes and -shake out the clothes, while Charlot, quite subdued, stood, with open -mouth, looking on. When I had carried Huriel the clothes which -Thérence piled on my arms, I returned to ask if she didn't mean to -dress herself too, and to offer to take the child to walk while she -did so. - -"As for me," she said, laying out her finery on her bed, "I will go -if Brulette worries after me; but I will admit that if she would only -forget me for a time, I would prefer to stay quietly here. In any -case, I can be ready in a minute, and I need no one to escort me. I -am accustomed to hunt up and get ready our lodgings in travelling, -like a regular quartermaster on a campaign, and nothing disturbs me -wherever I am." - -"Then you don't like dancing?" I said; "or is it shyness at making -new acquaintances that makes you wish to stay at home?" - -"No, I don't like dancing," she replied; "nor the racket, nor the -suppers, and particularly not the waste of time which brings -weariness." - -"But one doesn't love dancing for dancing's sake only. Do you fear, -or dislike, the attentions the young men pay to the girls?" - -"No, I have neither fear nor repugnance," she said, simply. "It does -not amuse me, that is all. I am not witty, like Brulette. I don't -know how to answer patly, nor how to make other people talk, and I -can't be amusing. I am stupid and dreamy, and I am as much out of -place in a lively company as a wolf or a fox at a dance." - -"You don't look like a wolf nor any other villanous beast, and you -dance as gracefully as the willow branches when the breeze caresses -them--" - -I don't know what more I was going to say, when Huriel came out of -his room, handsome as the sun and more in a hurry to get off than I -was, for I should have been just as satisfied to stay with his -sister. She kept him a moment to straighten his cravat and to tie -his garters at the knee, apparently not thinking him jaunty enough to -dance through the wedding with Brulette, and as she did so she said: -"Tell me, why were you so jealous of her dancing with any one but -you? Were not you afraid of frightening her with such masterful -orders?" - -"Tiennet!" exclaimed Huriel, stopping short in what he was doing, and -taking Charlot, whom he placed on the table and gazed at with all his -eyes, "Whose child is this?" - -Thérence, astonished, first asked him what he meant by the question, -and then asked me why I did not answer it. - -We looked each other in the eyes, like three dolts, and I would have -given all I had to know how to answer, for I saw that a sword was -hanging over our heads. At last, recollecting the virtue and truth I -had seen that very afternoon in my cousin's eyes when I had pretty -nigh asked her the same question, I plucked up courage and going -straight to the point I said to Huriel, "Comrade, if you ask that -question in our village many persons will tell you he is Brulette's -child--" - -He did not let me say more; but picking up the boy, he felt him and -turned him over as a hunter examines a head of game. Fearing his -anger, I tried to take the child from him; but he held him firmly, -saying:-- - -"No fear for the poor innocent thing; my heart is not bad, and if I -saw any resemblance to her I might not be able to refrain from -kissing him, though I should hate the fate that brought me to it. -But there is no such resemblance; my blood runs neither the hotter -nor the colder with this child in my arms." - -"Tiennet, Tiennet, answer him," cried Thérence, as if waking from a -dream. "Answer me, too, for I don't know what all this means, and it -makes me wild to think of it. There is no stain on our family and if -my father believed--" - -Huriel cut her short. "Wait, sister," he said; "a word too much is -soon said. It is for Tiennet to speak. Come, Tiennet, you who are -an honest man, tell me--one--two--whose child is that?" - -"I swear to God I don't know," I answered. - -"If it were hers, you would know?" - -"I think she could not have hidden it from me." - -"Did she ever hide anything else?" - -"Never." - -"Does she know the parents of the child?" - -"Yes, but she will not even let me question her about them." - -"Does she deny the child is hers?" - -"No one has ever dared to ask her." - -"Not even you?" - -Thereupon I related in a few words what I knew, and what I believed, -and finished by saying: "I can find no proof for or against Brulette; -but, for the life of me, I cannot doubt her." - -"Nor I either!" said Huriel, and kissing Charlot, he set him on the -floor. - -"Nor I either!" exclaimed Thérence, "but why should this idea have -come into people's heads? Why into yours, brother, as soon as you -looked at the child? I did not even think of asking whether it were -Brulette's nephew or cousin; I thought it must belong to the family, -and seeing it in her arms made me wish to take it in mine." - -"I see I must explain," said Huriel, "though the words will scorch my -mouth. But no," he added, "I would rather tell it! it will be the -first and the last time, for my mind is made up, whatever the truth -may be, and whatever happens. You must know, Thérence, that three -days ago, when we were parting with Joseph at Montaigu--and you know -with what a light heart I left him! he was cured, he gave her up, he -asked you in marriage, and Brulette was still free! He knew she was, -and said so, and when I spoke of her he answered, 'Do what you like, -I no longer love her; you can love her without hurting me.' Well, -sister, at the very moment we were parting, Joseph caught me by the -arm as you were getting into the cart, and said, 'Is it true, Huriel, -that you are going into our parts; and that you mean to court the -girl I loved so well?'" - -"Yes," I answered, "since you ask me, that is my intention; and you -have no right to change your mind, or I shall think you were tricking -us when you asked for my sister in marriage." - -"'I was not,'" replied Joseph, "'but I should feel I was deceiving -you now if I allowed you to leave without telling you a miserable -thing. God is my witness that these words should never have left my -lips against a person whose father brought me up, if you were not on -the point of taking a false step. But your father has also brought -me up, educating my mind just as the other fed and clothed my body, -and I am forced to tell you the truth. Huriel, at the time when I -left Brulette with my heart full of love, she had already, without my -knowledge, loved another man, and to-day there is a living proof of -it which she does not even take the trouble to hide. Now, then, do -as you please; I shall think no more about her.' So saying, Joseph -turned his back on me and went into the woods. He looked so wild -that I, with my heart full of faith and love, accused him in my -thoughts of madness and wicked anger. You remember, sister, that you -thought me ill as we drove that day to the village of Huriel. When -we got there you found two letters from Brulette, and I found three -from Tiennet, which our friends there had neglected to send on in -spite of their promises. Those letters were so simple, so -affectionate, and showed such truth in every word, that I said to -myself, 'I will go!' and Joseph's words went out of my mind like a -bad dream. I was ashamed for him, and would not remember them. And -then, just now, when I saw Brulette, with that look of hers, so -gentle, so modest, that charmed me so in the old days, I swear to God -I had forgotten all as though it had never happened. The sight of -the child killed me! And that was why I was resolved to know if -Brulette were free to love me. She is; because she has promised to -expose herself for my sake to the criticisms and neglect of others. -Well, as she is now tied to no one--even if there be a fault in -her--whether I believe it a little or not at all--whether she -confesses or explains it--it is all one; I love her!" - -"Would you love a degraded girl?" cried Thérence. "No, no, think of -your father, of your sister! Don't go to this wedding; wait till we -know the truth. I don't distrust Brulette, I don't believe in -Joseph. I am sure that Brulette is spotless, but she must say so; -she must do more, she must prove it. Go and fetch her, Tiennet. Let -her explain this thing at once, before my brother takes one of those -steps from which an honest man cannot back down." - -"You shall not go, Tiennet," said Huriel, "I forbid you. If, as I -believe, Brulette is as innocent as my sister Thérence, she shall not -be subjected to the insult of that question before I have openly -pledged my word to her." - -"Think it over, brother," said Thérence, again urging him. - -"Sister," said Huriel, "you forget one thing; if Brulette has done a -wrong thing, I have committed a crime; if love betrayed her into -bringing a child into the world, anger betrayed me into sending a man -out of it." Then as Thérence still remonstrated, he added, kissing -her and pushing her aside, "Enough, enough; I need pardon before I -judge of others; did I not kill a man?" - -So saying he rushed off without waiting for me, and I saw him running -towards the bride's house, where the smoke of the chimney and the -uproar within bespoke the wedding feast. - -"Ah!" said Thérence, following him with her eyes, "My poor brother -cannot forget his misfortune, and perhaps he will never be comforted." - -"He will be comforted, Thérence," I replied, "when he sees how the -girl he loves loves him; I'll answer for her loving him, and in times -past, too." - -"I think so too, Tiennet; but suppose she were unworthy of him?" - -"My beautiful Thérence, are you so stern that you would think it a -mortal sin if a misfortune happened to a mere child,--and, who knows? -perhaps ignorantly or by force?" - -"It is not the misfortune or the fault I should blame so much as the -lies told and acted, and the behavior that followed. If at the first -your cousin had said openly to my brother, 'Do not court me, for I -have been betrayed,' I could understand that he might have forgiven -all to such an honest confession. But to let him court her and -admire her so much without saying a word! Come, Tiennet, tell me, do -you really know nothing about it? Can't you at least guess or -imagine something to set my mind at ease? I do so love Brulette that -I haven't the courage to condemn her. And yet, what will my father -say if he thinks I might have saved Huriel from such a danger?" - -"Thérence, I know nothing and can tell you nothing, except that now, -less than ever, do I doubt Brulette; for, if you wish me to tell you -the only person whom I could possibly suspect of abusing her, and on -whom public suspicion fell with some slight appearance of reason, I -must honestly say it was Joseph, who now seems to me, after what your -brother told us, to be as white as the driven snow. Now there is but -one other person who, to my knowledge, was, I will not say capable, -but in a position to use his friendship for Brulette to lead her -wrong. And that is I. Do you believe I did, Thérence? Look me in -the eyes before you answer. No one has accused me of it, that I know -of, but I might be the sinner all the same, and you don't know me -well enough yet to be sure of my honesty and good faith. That is why -I say to you, look in my face and see if falsehood and cowardice are -at home there." - -Thérence did as I told her, and looked at me, without showing the -least embarrassment; then she said:-- - -"No, Tiennet, it is not in you to lie like that. If you are -satisfied about Brulette, I will be too. Come, my lad, now go off to -the dance; I don't want you here any longer." - -"Yes, you do," I said; "that child is going to plague you. He is not -amiable with persons he does not know, and I would like either to -carry him off or help you to take care of him." - -"Not amiable, isn't he?" said Thérence, taking him on her knee. -"Bah! what difficulty is therein managing a little monkey like that? -I never tried, but I don't believe there is much art in it. Come, my -young man, what do you want? Don't you want something to eat?" - -"No," said Charlot, who was sulky without daring to show it. - -"Well, just as you like. When you want your broth you can ask for -it. I'll give you all you want, and even play with you, if you get -tired. Say, do you want me to play with you?" - -"No," said Charlot, frowning fiercely. - -"Very good; then play alone," said Thérence, quietly, setting him on -the floor. "I am going into the courtyard to see the pretty little -black horse." - -She moved to go; Charlot wept; Thérence pretended not to hear him -till he came to her. "Dear me! what's the matter?" she said, as if -surprised; "make haste and tell me, for I am going,--I can't wait." - -"I want to see the pretty little black horse," sobbed Charlot. - -"Then come along; but stop crying, for he runs away when he hears -children cry." - -Charlot choked down his sobs, and went off to stroke and admire the -_clairin_. - -"Should you like to get on him?" asked Thérence. - -"No, I'm afraid." - -"I'll hold you." - -"No, I'm afraid." - -"Very good, then don't get on." - -In a minute more he wanted to. - -"No," said Thérence, "you'll be afraid." - -"No." - -"Yes, you will." - -"No, no!" said Charlot. - -She put him on the horse and led it along, holding the child very -carefully. After watching them a little while, I saw that Charlot's -whims could not hold out against so quiet a will as Thérence's. She -had discovered the way to manage a troublesome child at her first -attempt, though it had taken Brulette a year of patience and -weariness; but it really seemed as if the good God had made Thérence -a mother without an apprenticeship. She had guessed the astuteness -and decision needed, and practised them without worrying herself, or -feeling surprised or impatient at anything. - -Charlot, who had thought himself master of everybody, was much -astonished to find that with her he was only master of the power to -sulk, and as she did not trouble herself about that, he soon saw it -was trouble wasted. At the end of half an hour he became quite -pleasant, asking for what he wanted, and making haste to accept -whatever was offered to him. Thérence gave him something to eat; and -I admired how, out of her own judgment, she knew just what quantity -to give him, not too much nor yet too little, and how to keep him -occupied beside her while she was occupied in her own affairs, -talking with him as if he were a reasonable being, and treating the -imp with such confidence that, without seeming to question him, he -soon ran over all his little tales, which he usually required much -begging to do when others tried to make him. He even took such -pleasure in her and was so proud of knowing how to converse that he -got impatient at not knowing the words he wanted, and so invented -some to express his meaning,--and they were not at all silly or -meaningless either. - -"What are you doing here, Tiennet?" she said to me suddenly, as if to -let me know she thought I had been there long enough. - -As I had already invented about fifty little reasons for staying on, -her question took me short, and I could think of nothing to say -except that I was occupied in looking at her. "Does that amuse you?" -she exclaimed. - -"I don't know," I answered; "You might as well ask the wheat if it -likes to grow in the sunshine." - -"Oh, oh! so you are getting mischievous and turning compliments, are -you? but please remember it is lost time with me, for I know nothing -about them and can't make any reply." - -"I don't know anything about them either, Thérence. All that I meant -to say was that to my mind there is nothing so beautiful and saintly -as a young girl taking pleasure in a child's prattle." - -"Is not that natural?" said Thérence. "It seems to me that I get to -the truth of the things of the good God when I look at that little -fellow and talk with him. I feel that I do not live, usually, as a -woman ought to like to live; but I did not choose my own lot, and the -wandering life I lead is my duty, because I am the support and -happiness of my dear father. Therefore I never complain, and never -wish for a life which would not be his; only I can understand the -happiness of others; for instance, that of Brulette with her Charlot, -whether he be her own or just the good God's, would be very sweet to -me. I have not often had a chance to enjoy such amusement, so I take -it when I find it. Yes, I like the company of this little man, and I -had no idea he was so clever and knew so much." - -"And yet, dear, Charlot is only tolerable because Brulette has taken -such pains with him; he will have to improve very much before he is -as amiable as the children God sends good into the world." - -"You surprise me," said Thérence. "If there are nicer children than -he it must be very pleasant to live with them. But now, that's -enough, Tiennet. Go away; or they will send after you, and then they -will ask me to go too; and that would, I confess, annoy me, for I am -tired, and would much rather stay quietly here with the little one." - -I had to obey; and I departed with my heart full, and topsy-turvy -with ideas that suddenly came into my head about that girl. - - - - -TWENTY-FOURTH EVENING. - -It was not only Thérence's extreme beauty which filled my thoughts, -but a something, I don't know what, which made her seem to be above -all others. I was surprised that I had loved Brulette, who was so -unlike her, and I kept asking myself if the one were too frank, or -the other too coy. I thought Brulette the most amiable; for she had -always something kind to say to her friends, and she knew how to keep -them about her with all sorts of little orders; which flatter young -fellows, for they like to fancy themselves of use. On the other -hand, Thérence showed you frankly that she did not want you, and even -seemed surprised and annoyed if you paid her any attention. Both -knew their own value, however; but whereas Brulette took the trouble -to make you feel it, the other seemed only to wish for the same sort -of regard as that she gave you. I don't know how it was that the -spice of pride hidden under all this seemed to me an allurement which -brought temptation as well as fear. - -I found the dance at its height, and Brulette was skimming like a -butterfly in Huriel's arms. Such ardor was in their faces, she was -so intoxicated within and he without, that it really seemed as if -neither could hear or see anything about them. The music carried -them away, and I do believe that their feet did not touch the earth -and that their souls were dancing in paradise. Now, among those who -lead a reel, there are seldom any who have neither love nor some -other wild fancy in their heads, and therefore no attention was paid -to this pair; and there was so much wine, noise, dust, music, and -lively talk in the heated air of the wedding feast that night came on -before any one took much notice of the actions of others. - -Brulette merely asked me about Charlot, and why Thérence did not come -and dance; my answers satisfied her, and Huriel did not give her time -to say much about the boy. - -I did not feel inclined to dance, for I could not see any pretty -girls; I believe there were plenty, but not one that compared with -Thérence; and I could not get Thérence out of my head. I stood in a -corner to watch her brother, so as to have something to tell her if -she questioned me. Huriel had so completely forgotten his troubles -that he was all youth and happiness. He was well-mated with -Brulette, for he loved pleasure and racket as much as she did when he -was in it, and he carried the day against the other lads, for he -never got tired of dancing. All the world knows, for it is so in all -lands, that women can floor the men at a reel, and can keep -themselves going while we poor fellows are dying of heat and thirst. -Huriel never cared for eating or drinking, and you would really have -thought he had sworn to surfeit Brulette with her choice amusement; -but I could see beneath the surface that he was doing it for his own -pleasure, and that he would gladly have gone round the world on one -foot could he have kept his airy partner in his arms. - -At last, however, some of the youths, beginning to get annoyed that -Brulette refused them, took notice that a stranger had cut them out, -and talk began about it round the tables. I must tell you that -Brulette, not expecting much amusement, and rather inclined to -despise the young men of that neighborhood on account of their -ill-natured speeches, was not dressed with her usual daintiness. She -looked more like a little nun than the queen of our parts; and as -others had come to the wedding in gala costumes, she did not produce -the great effect of former days. Still, she was so animated in -dancing that the company were forced to admit that no one compared -with her; and as those who did not know her questioned those who did, -a great deal of evil as well as good was talked around me. - -I listened, wishing to make sure of what was being said, and not -revealing that she was my relation. I heard the whole story of the -monk and the child, and of Joseph and the Bourbonnais; it was also -told that Joseph was probably not the father of the child, but more -likely that tall fellow, who seemed so sure of his rights that no one -else was allowed to approach her. - -"Well," said one, "if it was he and he comes to make reparation, -better late than never." - -"Faith!" cried another, "she didn't choose badly. He is a splendid -fellow, and seems good company." - -"After all," said a third, "they make a fine couple, and when the -priest has said his say, their home will be as good as any." - -All of which let me know that a woman is never lost if she has good -protection; but it must be the honest and lasting protection of one -man, not the support of hundreds, for the more who meddle in the -matter, the more there are to pull her down. - -Just then my aunt took Huriel apart, and bringing him close into my -neighborhood said to him, "I want you to drink a glass of wine to my -health, for it does my heart good to see your fine dancing, which -stirred up the company and made the wedding go off so well." - -Huriel seemed not to like to leave Brulette even for a moment, but -the mistress of the house was very peremptory, and he could not help -showing her civility. They sat down at an empty table, with a candle -between them, face to face. My aunt Marghitonne was, as I told you, -a very small woman who had never been a fool. She had the drollest -little face you ever saw, very fair and very rosy, though she was in -the fifties and had brought fourteen children into the world. I have -never seen such a long nose as hers, with very small eyes sunken each -side of it, sharp as gimlets, and so bright and mischievous that one -couldn't look into them without wishing to laugh and chatter. - -I saw, however, that Huriel was on his guard and was cautious about -the wine she poured out for him. He seemed to feel there was -something quizzical and inquisitive about her, and without knowing -why, he put himself on the defence. My aunt, who since early morning -had not stopped talking and moving about, had a very pretty taste for -good wine, and had scarcely drunk a glass or two when the end of her -long nose grew as red as a haw, and her broad mouth, with its rows of -narrow white teeth (enough to furnish three ordinary mouths), began -to smile from ear to ear. However, she was not at all upset as to -judgment, for no woman could be gay without freedom and mischievous -without spite better than she. - -"Well, now, my lad," she said, after some general talk which served -only to lead up to her object, "here you are, for good and all, -pledged to our Brulette. You can't go back now, for what you wished -has happened; everybody is talking, and if you could hear, as I do, -what is being said on all sides you would find that they have saddled -you with the past as well as the future of my pretty niece." - -I saw that the words drove a knife into Huriel's heart, and knocked -him from the stars into the brambles; but he put a good face upon the -matter and answered, laughing: "I might wish, my good lady, to have -had her past, for everything about her is beautiful and good; but as -I can have her future only I expect to share it with the good God." - -"And right you are," returned my aunt, laughing still and looking -closely at him with her little green eyes, which were very -near-sighted, so that she seemed about to prick his forehead with the -sharp end of her nose. "When people love they should love right -through, and not be repelled by anything." - -"That is my intention," said Huriel, in a curt tone, which did not -disconcert my aunt. - -"And that's all the more to your credit," she continued, "because -poor Brulette has more virtue than property. You know, I suppose, -that you could put her dowry into that glass, and there are no louis -d'or to her account." - -"Well, so much the better," said Huriel, "the reckoning is the sooner -made; I don't like to spend my time doing sums." - -"And besides," said my aunt, "a child already weaned is less trouble -in a household, especially if the father does his duty, as I'll -warrant he will in this case." - -Poor Huriel went hot and cold; but thinking it was meant as a test, -he stood it well, and answered:-- - -"I'll warrant, too, that the father will do his duty; for there will -be no other father than I for all the children born or to be born." - -"Oh! as for that!" she returned, "you won't be the master, I give you -my word." - -"I hope I shall," he said, clenching his glass as though he would -crush it in his hand. "He who abandons his property has no right to -filch it back; and I am too faithful a guardian to allow marauders -about." - -my aunt stretched out her skinny little hand and passed it over -Huriel's forehead. She felt the sweat, though he was very pale, and -then, suddenly changing her look of elfish mischief to one that -expressed the goodness and kindness of her heart, she said: "My lad, -put your elbows on the table and bring your face quite close to my -mouth; I want to give you a good kiss upon your cheek." - -Huriel, surprised at her softened manner, obeyed her fancy. She -raised his thick hair and saw Brulette's token, which he still wore -and which she probably recognized. Then, bringing her big mouth -close to his ear as if she meant to bite him, she whispered three or -four words into its orifice, but so low that I couldn't catch a -sound. Then she added out loud, pinching his ear:-- - -"Here's a faithful ear! but you must admit, it is well-rewarded." - -Huriel made but one bound right over the table, knocking over the -glasses and candle before I had time to catch them; in a second he -was sitting by my little aunt and kissing her as if she had been the -mother that bore him; in short, he behaved like a crazy man, -shouting, and singing, and waving his glass, while my aunt, laughing -like a jack-daw, cried as she clinked her glass to his:-- - -"To the health of the father of your child! All of which proves," -she said, turning to me, "that the cleverest folk are often those who -are thought the greatest fools; just as the greatest fools are those -who have thought themselves so clever. You can say that too, my -Tiennet,--you with your honest heart and your faithful cousinship; I -know that you behaved to Brulette as if you had been her brother. -You deserve to be rewarded, and I rely on the good God to see that -you get your dues; some day or other he will give you, too, your -perfect contentment." - -Thereupon she went off, and Huriel, clasping me in his arms, cried -out: "Your aunt is right; she is the best of women. You are not in -the secret, but that's no matter. You are only the better friend for -it. Give me your word, Tiennet, that you will come and work here all -summer with us; for I have got an idea about you, and please God to -help me, you shall thank me for it fine and good." - -"If I understand what you mean," I replied, "you have just been -drinking your wine pure, and my aunt has taken the fly out of your -cup; but any idea of yours about me seems more difficult to carry -out." - -"Friend Tiennet, happiness can be earned; and if you have no ideas -contrary to mine--" - -"I am afraid they are only too like; but ideas won't suffice." - -"Of course not; but nothing venture nothing have. Are you such a -Berrichon that you dare not tempt fate?" - -"You set me too good an example to let me be a coward," I answered, -"but do you think--" - -Brulette here came up and interrupted us, and we saw by her manner -that she had no suspicion of what had occurred. - -"Sit here," said Huriel, drawing her to his knee, as we do in our -parts without any thought of harm, "and tell me, my dear love, if you -have no wish to dance with some one besides me? You gave me your -word and you have kept it. That was all I needed to take a -bitterness out of my heart; but if you think people will talk in a -way to hurt your feelings, I will submit to your pleasure and not -dance with you again till you command me." - -"Is it because you are tired of my company, Maître Huriel," replied -Brulette, "and that you want to make acquaintance with the other -girls at the wedding?" - -"Oh! if you take it that way," cried Huriel, beside himself with joy, -"so much the better! I don't even know if there are other girls here -besides you, and I don't want to know." - -Then he offered her his glass, begging her to touch it with her lips -and then drinking its contents with a full heart; after which he -dashed it to pieces, so that no one should use it again, and carried -off his betrothed, leaving me to think over the matter he had -suggested, about which I felt I'm sure I don't know how. - -I had not yet felt myself all over about it; and it had never seemed -to me that my nature was ardent enough to fall in love lightly, -especially with so grave a girl as Thérence. I had escaped all -annoyance at not being able to please Brulette, thanks to my lively -nature, which was always willing to be diverted; but somehow, I could -not think of Thérence without a sort of trembling in the marrow of my -bones, as if I had been asked to make a sea-voyage,--I, who had never -set foot on a river boat! - -"Can it be," thought I, "that I have fallen in love to-day without -knowing it? Perhaps I ought to believe it, for here is Huriel urging -me on, and his eye must have seen it in my face. Still I am not -certain, because I feel half-suffocated, and love certainly ought to -be a livelier thing than that." - -Thinking over all this, I reached, I couldn't tell you how, the -ruined castle. That old heap of stones was sleeping in the moonlight -as mute as those who built it; but a tiny light, coming from the room -which Thérence occupied on the courtyard, showed that the dead were -not the only guardians of the building. I went softly to the window, -which had neither glass nor woodwork, and looking through the leaves -that shaded it, I saw the girl of the woods on her knees saying her -prayers beside the bed, where Charlot was sleeping soundly with his -eyes tightly closed. - -I might live a thousand years and I should never forget her face as -it was at that moment. It was that of a saint; as peaceful as those -they carve in stone for the churches. I had just seen Brulette, -radiant as the summer sun, in the joy of her love and the whirl of -the dance; and here was Thérence, alone, content, and white as the -moonlight of the springtide sky. Afar I heard the wedding music; but -that said nothing to the ear of the woodland girl; I think she was -listening to the nightingale as it sang its tender canticle in the -neighboring covert. - -I don't know what took place within me; but, all of a sudden, I -thought of God,--a thought that did not often come to me in those -days of youth and carelessness; but now it bent my knees, as by some -secret order, and filled my eyes with tears which fell like rain, as -though a great cloud had burst within my head. - -Do not ask me what prayer I made to the good angels of the sky. I -know it not myself. Certainly I did not dare to ask of God to give -me Thérence, but I think I prayed him to make me worthier of so great -an honor. - -When I rose from the ground I saw that Thérence had finished her -prayer and was preparing for the night. She had taken off her cap, -and I noticed that her black hair fell in coils to her feet; but -before she had taken the first pin from her garments, believe me if -you will, I had fled as though I feared to be guilty of sacrilege. -And yet I was no fool either, and not at all in the habit of making -faces at the devil. But Thérence filled my soul with respect as -though she were cousin of the Holy Virgin. - -As I left the old castle, a man, whom I had not seen in the shadow of -the great portal, surprised me by saying: - -"Hey, friend! tell me if this is, as I think it is, the old castle of -Chassin?" - -"The Head-Woodsman!" I cried, recognizing the voice. And I kissed -him with such ardor that he was quite astonished, for, naturally, he -did not remember me as I did him. But when he did recollect me he -was very friendly and said:-- - -"Tell me quick, my boy, if you have seen my children, or if you know -whether they are here." - -"They came this morning," I said, "and so did I and my cousin -Brulette. Your daughter Thérence is in there, very quiet and -tranquil, and my cousin is close by, at a wedding with your dear good -son Huriel." - -"Thank God, I am not too late!" said Père Bastien. "Joseph has gone -on to Nohant expecting to find them there together." - -"Joseph! Did he come with you? They did not expect you for five or -six days, and Huriel told us--" - -"Just see how matters turn out in this world," said Père Bastien, -drawing me out on the road so as not to be overheard. "Of all the -things that are blown about by the wind, the brains of lovers are the -lightest! Did Huriel tell you all that relates to Joseph?" - -"Yes, everything." - -"When Joseph saw Thérence and Huriel starting for these parts, he -whispered something in Huriel's ear. Do you know what he told him?" - -"Yes, I know, Père Bastien, but--" - -"Hush! for I know, too. Seeing that my son changed color, and that -Joseph rushed into the woods in a singular way, I followed him and -ordered him to tell me what secret he had just told Huriel. -'Master,' he replied, 'I don't know if I have done well or ill; but I -felt myself obliged to do it; this is what it is, for I am also bound -to tell you.' Thereupon he told me how he had received a letter from -friends telling him that Brulette was bringing up a child that could -only be her own. After telling me all this, with much suffering and -anger, he begged me to follow Huriel and prevent him from committing -a great folly and swallowing a bitter shame. When I questioned him -as to the age of the child and he had read me the letter he carried -with him, as though it were a remedy for his wounded love, I did not -feel at all sure that it was not written to plague him,--more -especially as the Carnat lad, who wrote the letter (in answer to a -proposal of Joseph's to be properly admitted as a bagpiper in your -parts), seemed to have an ill-natured desire to prevent his return. -Besides, remembering the modesty and proper behavior of that little -Brulette, I felt more and more persuaded that injustice was being -done her; and I could not help blaming and ridiculing Joseph for so -readily believing such a wicked story. Doubtless I should have done -better, my good Tiennet, to have left him in the belief that Brulette -was unworthy of his love; but I can't help that; a sense of justice -guided my tongue, and prevented me from seeing the consequences. I -was so displeased to hear an innocent young girl defamed that I spoke -as I felt. It had a greater effect upon Joseph than I expected. He -went instantly from one extreme to the other. Bursting into tears -like a child, he let himself drop on the ground, tearing his clothes -and pulling out his hair, with such anger and self-reproach that I -had great trouble in pacifying him. Luckily his health has grown -nearly as strong as yours; for a year sooner such despair, seizing -him in this manner, would have killed him. I spent the rest of the -day and all that night in trying to compose his mind. It was not an -easy thing for me to do. On the one hand, I knew that my son had -fallen in love with Brulette in a very earnest way from the day he -first saw her, and that he was only reconciled to life after Joseph -had given up a suit which thwarted his hopes. On the other hand, I -have always felt a great regard for Joseph, and I know that Brulette -has been in his thoughts since childhood. I had to sacrifice one or -the other, and I asked myself if I should not do a selfish deed in -deciding for the happiness of my own son against that of my pupil. -Tiennet, you don't know Joseph, and perhaps you have never known him. -My daughter Thérence may have spoken of him rather severely. She -does not judge him in the same way that I do. She thinks him -selfish, hard, and ungrateful. There is some truth in that; but what -excuses him in my eyes cannot excuse him in those of a young girl -like Thérence. Women, my lad, only want us to love them. They take -into their hearts alone the food they live on. God made them so; and -we men are fortunate if we are worthy to understand this." - -"I think," I remarked to the Head-Woodsman, "that I do now understand -it, and that women are very right to want nothing else of us but our -hearts, for that is the best thing in us." - -"No doubt, no doubt, my son," returned the fine old man; "I have -always thought so. I loved the mother of my children more than -money, more than talent, more than pleasure or livery talk, more, -indeed, than anything in the world. I see that Huriel is tarred with -the same brush, for he has changed, without regret, all his habits -and tastes so as to fit himself to be worthy of Brulette. I believe -that you feel in the same way, for you show it plainly enough. But, -nevertheless, talent is a thing which God likewise values, for he -does not bestow it on everybody, and we are bound to respect and help -those whom he has thus marked as the sheep of his fold." - -"But don't you think that your son Huriel has as much mind and more -talent for music than José?" - -"My son Huriel has both mind and talent. He was received into the -fraternity of the bagpipers when he was only eighteen years old, and -though he has never practised the profession, he has great knowledge -and aptitude for it. But there is a wide difference, friend Tiennet, -between those who acquire and those who originate; there are some -with ready fingers and accurate memory who can play agreeably -anything they learn, but there are others who are not content with -being taught,--who go beyond all teaching, seeking ideas, and -bestowing on all future musicians the gift of their discoveries. -Now, I tell you that Joseph is one of them; in him are two very -remarkable natures: the nature of the plain, as I may say, where he -was born, which gives him his tranquil, calm, and solid ideas, and -the nature of our hills and woods, which have enlarged his -understanding and brought him tender and vivid and intelligent -thoughts. He will one day be, for those who have ears to hear, -something more than a mere country minstrel. He will become a true -master of the bagpipe as in the olden time,--one of those to whom the -great musicians listened with attention, and who changed at times the -customs of their art." - -"Do you really think, Père Bastien, that José will become a second -Head-Woodsman of your craft?" - -"Ah! my poor Tiennet," replied the old minstrel, sighing, "you don't -know what you are talking about, and I should have hard work to make -you understand it." - -"Try to do so, at any rate," I replied; "you are good to listen to, -and it isn't good that I should continue the simpleton that I am." - - - - -TWENTY-FIFTH EVENING. - -"You must know," began Père Bastien, very readily (for he was fond of -talking when he was listened to willingly), "that I might have been -something if I had given myself wholly up to music. I could have -done so had I made myself a fiddler, as I thought of doing in my -youth. I don't mean that one improves a talent by fiddling three -days and nights at a wedding, like that fellow I can hear from here, -murdering the tune of our mountain jig. When a man has no object -before his mind but money, he gets tired and rusty; but there's a way -for an artist to live by his body without killing the soul within -him. As every festival brings him in at least twenty or thirty -francs, that's enough for him to take his ease, to live frugally, and -travel about for pleasure and instruction. That's what Joseph wants -to do, and I have always advised him to do it. But here's what -happened to me. I fell in love, and the mother of my dear children -would not hear of marrying a fiddler without hearth or home, always -a-going, spending his nights in a racket and his days in sleeping, -and ending his life with a debauch; for, unhappily, it is seldom that -a man can keep himself straight at that business. She kept me tied -to the woodsman's craft, and that's the whole story. I never -regretted my talent as long as she lived. To me, as I told you, love -is the divinest music. When I was left a widower with two young -children, I gave myself wholly to them; but my music got very rusty -and my fingers very stiff by dint of handling axe and shears; and, I -confess to you, Tiennet, that if my two children were happily -married, I should quit this burdensome business of slinging iron and -chopping wood, and I would be off, happy and young again, to live as -I liked, seeking converse with angels, until old age brought me back, -feeble but satisfied, to my children's hearth. And then, too, I am -sick of felling trees. Do you know, Tiennet, I love them, those -noble old companions of my life, who have told me so many things by -the murmur of their leaves and the crackling of their branches. And -I, more malignant than the fire from heaven, I have thanked them by -driving an axe into their hearts and laying them low at my feet like -so many dismembered corpses! Don't laugh at me, but I have never -seen an old oak fall, nor even a young willow, without trembling with -pity or with fear, as an assassin of the works of God. I long to -walk beneath their shady branches, repulsed no longer as an ingrate, -and listening at last to the secrets I was once unworthy to hear." - -The Head-Woodsman, whose voice had grown impassioned, stopped short -and thought a moment; and so did I, amazed not to think him the -madman I should have thought another in his place,--perhaps because -he had managed to put his ideas into me, or possibly because I myself -had had some such ideas in my own head. - -"No doubt you are thinking," he resumed, "that we have got a long way -from Joseph. But you are mistaken, we are all the nearer; and now -you shall understand how it was that I decided, after some -hesitation, to treat the poor fellow's troubles sternly. I have -often said to myself, and I have seen, in the way his grief affected -him, that he could never make a woman happy, and also that he would -never be happy himself with any woman, unless she could make him the -pride of her life. For it must be admitted that Joseph has more need -of praise and encouragement than of love and friendship. What made -him in love with Brulette in the first instance was that she listened -to his music and urged him on; what kept him from loving my daughter -(for his return to her was only pique) was that Thérence requires -affection more than knowledge, and treated him like a son rather than -a man of great talent. I venture to say that I have read the lad's -heart, and that his one idea has been to dazzle Brulette some day -with his success. So long as Brulette was held to be the queen of -beauty and dignity in her own country he would, thanks to her, enjoy -a double royalty; but Brulette smirched by a fault, or merely -degraded by the suspicion of one, was no longer his cherished dream. -I, who knew the heart of my son Huriel, I knew he would never condemn -Brulette without a hearing, and that if she had not done anything -wrong he would love her and protect her all the more because she was -misjudged. So that decided me, finally, to oppose Joseph's love, and -to advise him to think no longer of marriage. Indeed, I tried to -make him understand that Brulette prefers my son, which is what I -believe myself. He seemed to give in to my arguments, but it was -only, I think, to get rid of them; for yesterday morning, before it -was light, I saw him making his preparations for departure. Though -he thought himself cleverer than I, and expected to get off without -being seen, I kept with him until, losing patience, he let out the -whole truth. I saw then that his anger was great, and that he meant -to follow Huriel and quarrel with him about Brulette, if he found -that Brulette was worth it. As he was still uncertain on the latter -point, I thought best to blame him and even to ridicule a love like -his which was only jealousy without respect,--gluttony, as one might -say, without appetite. He confessed I was right; but he went off all -the same, and by that you can judge of his obstinacy. Just as he was -about to be received into the guild of his art (for an appointment -was made for the competition near Auzances) he abandoned everything, -though certain to lose the opportunity, saying he could get himself -admitted willingly or unwillingly in his own country. Finding him so -determined that he even came near getting angry with me, I decided to -come with him, fearing some bad action on his part and some fresh -misfortune for Huriel. We parted only a couple of miles from here at -the village of Sarzay, where he took the road to Nohant, while I came -on here, hoping to find Huriel and reason with him, thinking that if -necessary my legs could still take me to Nohant to-night." - -"Luckily, you can rest them to-night," I said; "to-morrow will be -time enough to discuss matters. But are you really anxious for what -may happen if the two gallants meet? Joseph was never quarrelsome, -to my knowledge; in fact, I have always seen him hold his tongue when -people showed him their teeth." - -"Yes, yes," answered Père Bastien; "but that was in the days when he -was a sickly child and doubted his strength. There is no more -dangerous water than still water; it is not always healthy to stir -the depths." - -"Don't you want to come in to your new abode and see your daughter?" - -"No, you said she was resting; I am not anxious about her, I am much -more desirous to know the truth about Brulette; for, though my heart -defends her, still my reason tells me that there may have been some -little thing in her conduct which lays her open to blame; and I feel -I ought to know more before going too far." - -I was about to tell him what had happened an hour before, under my -very eyes, between Huriel and my aunt, when Huriel himself appeared, -sent by Brulette, who was afraid Thérence might be unable to get -Charlot to sleep. Father and son had an explanation, in which -Huriel, begging his father not to ask for a secret he was bound not -to tell, and which Brulette herself was not aware that he knew, swore -on his baptism that Brulette was worthy of his father's blessing. - -"Come and see her, dear father," he added; "you can do it very easily -because we are now dancing out of doors, and you need no invitation -to be present. By the very way she kisses you, you will know that no -girl so sweet and amiable was ever more pure in heart." - -"I do not doubt it, my son; and I will go to please you, and also for -the pleasure of seeing her. But wait a moment, for I want to speak -to you of Joseph." - -I thought I had better leave them alone, so I went off to tell my -aunt of Père Bastien's arrival, knowing she would welcome him -heartily and not let him stay outside. But I found no one in the -house but Brulette. The whole wedding party, with the music at their -head, had gone to carry the roast to the newly married couple, who -had retired to a neighboring house, for it was past eleven o'clock at -night. It is an ancient custom, which I have never thought very -nice, to shame a young bride by a visit and joking songs. Though the -other girls had all gone, with or without malicious intention, -Brulette had had the decency to stay in the chimney-corner, where I -found her sitting, as if keeping watch in the kitchen, but really -taking the sleep she so much needed. I did not care to disturb her -nor to deprive her of the fine surprise she would feel on waking, at -sight of the Head-Woodsman. - -Very tired myself, I sat down at a table, laid my arms on it and my -head on my arms, as you do when you mean to take a five minutes' nap; -but I thought of Thérence and did not sleep. For a moment only my -thoughts were hazy, and just then a trifling noise made me open my -eyes without lifting my head, and I saw a man enter and walk up to -the chimney. Though the candles had all been carried off for the -visit to the bride, the fire of fagots which flamed on the hearth -gave light enough to enable me to recognize at once who it was. It -was Joseph, who no doubt had met some of the wedding guests on his -way to Nohant, and finding where we were, had retraced his steps. He -was dusty with his journey and carried a bundle on the end of his -stick, which he threw into a corner and then stood stock still like a -mile-stone, looking at Brulette asleep, and taking no notice of me. - -The year during which I had not seen him had made as great a change -in him as it had in Thérence. His health being better than it ever -was, it was safe to call him a handsome man, whose square shoulders -and wiry figure were more muscular than thin. His face was sallow, -partly from a bilious constitution and partly from the heat of the -sun; and this swarthy tint went singularly well with his large light -eyes, and his long straight hair. It was still the same sad and -dreamy face; but something bold and decided, showing the harsh will -so long concealed, was mingled in it. - -I did not move, wishing to observe the manner in which he approached -Brulette and so judge of his coming meeting with Huriel. No doubt he -did study the girl's face seeking for truth; and perhaps beneath the -eyelids, closed in quiet slumber, he perceived her peace of heart; -for the girl was sweetly pretty seen at that moment in the blaze from -the hearth. Her complexion was still bright with pleasure, her mouth -smiled with contentment, and the silken lashes of her closed eyes -cast a soft shadow on her cheeks, which seemed to quiver beneath them -like the sly glances that girls cast on their lovers. But Brulette -was sound asleep, dreaming no doubt of Huriel, and thinking as little -of alluring Joseph as of repelling him. - -I saw that he felt her beauty so much that his wrath hung by a -thread, for he leaned over her and, with a courage I did not give him -credit for, he put his lips quite close to hers and would have -touched them if I, in a sudden rage, had not coughed violently and -stopped the kiss on its way. - -Brulette woke up with a start; I pretended to do the same, and Joseph -felt a good deal of a fool between the pair of us, who both asked -what he was doing, without any appearance of confusion on Brulette's -part or of malice on mine. - - - - -TWENTY-SIXTH EVENING. - -Joseph recovered himself quickly, and showing plainly that he did not -mean to be put in the wrong, he said to Brulette, "I am glad to find -you here. After a year's absence don't you mean to kiss an old -friend?" - -He approached her again, but she drew back, surprised at his singular -manner, and said, "No, José, it is not my way to kiss any lad, no -matter how old a friend he is or how glad I am to see him." - -"You have grown very coy!" he said, in an angry and scoffing tone. - -"I don't think I have ever been coy with you, Joseph; you never gave -me any reason to be; and as you never asked me to be familiar, I -never had occasion to forbid your kissing me. Nothing is changed -between us and I do not know why you should now lay claim to what has -never entered into our friendship." - -"What an amount of talk and wry faces, all about a kiss," said -Joseph, his anger rising. "If I never asked for what you were ready -enough to give others it was because I was a young fool. I thought -you would receive me better now that I am neither a ninny nor a -coward." - -"What is the matter with him?" asked Brulette, surprised and even -frightened, and coming close up to me. "Is it really he, or some one -who looks like him? I thought I saw our José, but this is not his -speech nor his face nor his friendship." - -"How have I changed, Brulette?" began José, a little disconcerted and -already repentant. "Is it that I now have the courage I once lacked -to tell you that you are to me the loveliest in the world, and that I -have always longed for your good graces? There's no offence in that, -I hope; and perhaps I am not more unworthy of them than others whom -you allow to hang round you." - -So saying, with a return of his vexation, he looked me in the face, -and I saw he was trying to pick a quarrel with whoever would take him -up. I asked nothing better than to draw his first fire. "Joseph," I -said, "Brulette is right in thinking you changed. There is nothing -surprising in that. We know how we part, but not how we meet again. -You need not be surprised, either, if you find a little change in me. -I have always been quiet and patient, standing by you in all your -difficulties and consoling your vexations; but if you have grown more -unjust than you used to be, I have grown more touchy, and I take it -ill that you should say to my cousin before me that she is prodigal -of her kisses and allows too many young men about her." - -Joseph eyed me contemptuously, and put on a really devilish look of -malice as he laughed in my face. Then he said, crossing his arms, -and looking at me as though he were taking my measure, "Well, is it -possible, Tiennet? Can this be you? However, I always did doubt -you, and the friendship you professed--to deceive me." - -"What do you mean by that, José?" said Brulette, much affronted and -fancying he had lost his mind. "Where did you get the right to blame -me, and why are you trying to see something wrong or ridiculous -between my cousin and me? Are you ill or drunken, that you forget -the respect you owe me and the affection that you know I deserve?" - -Joseph drew in his horns, and taking Brulette's hand in his, he said -to her, with his eyes full of tears, "I am to blame, Brulette; yes, -I'm irritable from fatigue and the desire to get here; but I feel -nothing but devotion for you, and you ought not to take it in bad -part. I know very well that your manners are dignified and that you -exact the respect of everybody. It is due to your beauty, which, I -see, is greater, not less, than ever. But you surely will allow that -you love pleasure, and that people often kiss each other when -dancing. It is the custom, and I shall think it a very good one when -I profit by it; which will be now, for I have learned how to dance -like others, and for the first time in my life I am going to dance -with you. I hear the bagpipes returning. Come, you shall see that -all my ill-humor will clear off under the happiness of being your -sweetheart." - -"José," replied Brulette, not more than half pleased at this speech, -"you are very much mistaken if you think I still have sweethearts; I -may have been coquettish,--that's my way, and I am not bound to give -account of my actions; but I have also the right and the will to -change my ways. I no longer dance with everybody, and to-night I -shall not dance again." - -"I should have thought," said Joseph, piqued, "that I was not -'everybody,' as you say, to an old friend with whom I made my first -communion, and under whose roof I lived." - -The music and the wedding guests returning with a great racket, cut -short their words, and Huriel, also entering, full of eagerness and -taking no notice of Joseph, caught Brulette on his arm and carried -her like a feather to his father, who was waiting outside, and who -kissed her joyously, to the great annoyance of Joseph, who clenched -his fists as he watched her paying the old man the filial attentions -of a daughter. - -Creeping up to the Head-Woodsman I whispered that Joseph was there, -in a bad temper, and I proposed that he should draw Huriel aside -while I persuaded Brulette to go to bed. Joseph, who was not invited -to the wedding, would thus be obliged to go off and sleep at Nohant -or at some other house in Chassin. The Head-Woodsman thought the -suggestion good, and pretending not to see Joseph, who kept in the -background, he talked apart with Huriel, while Brulette went away to -see in what part of the house she could stow herself for the night. -But my aunt, who had counted on lodging us, did not expect that -Brulette would take it into her head to go to bed before three or -four in the morning. The young men never go to bed at all on the -first night of a wedding, and do their best to keep up the dance for -three days and three nights running. If one of them gets tired, he -goes into the hayloft and takes a nap. As to the girls and women, -they all retire into one room; but generally it is only the old women -and the ugly ones who abandon the dance. - -So, when Brulette went up to the room where she expected to find a -place next to some of her relatives, she came upon a crowd of -snorers, among whom not a corner as big as the palm of her hand was -vacant; and the few who woke up told her to come again towards -morning, when they would be ready to go down and serve the tables. -She came back to us and told her difficulty. - -"Well, then," said Père Bastien, "you must go and sleep with -Thérence. My son and I will spend the night here so that no talk can -be made about it." - -I declared that in order to avoid giving a pretext for Joseph's -jealousy Brulette could easily slip out with me without saying a -word; and Père Bastien going up to him and plying him with questions, -I took my cousin to the old castle by a back way through my aunt's -garden. - -When I returned I found the Head-Woodsman, Joseph, and Huriel at -table together. They called me, and I sat down to supper with them, -eating, drinking, talking, and singing to avoid an explosion of anger -which might follow on any talk about Brulette. Joseph, seeing us -determined to keep the peace, controlled himself at first, and even -seemed gay; but he could not help biting as he caressed, and every -joke he made had a sting at the end of it. The Head-Woodsman tried -to keep down his bile with a measure of wine, and I think Joseph -might willingly have yielded in order to forget himself, if it were -not that wine never affected him. He drank four times as much as the -rest of us, who had no reason to wish to drown our intelligence, and -yet his ideas were all the clearer and his speech, too. - -At last, after some particularly spiteful remarks on the slyness of -women and the treachery of friends, Huriel, striking his fist on the -table and grasping his father's elbow, which for some time past had -been nudging him to keep quiet, said in a decided tone:-- - -"No, father, excuse me, but I cannot stand any more of this, and it -is much better to say so openly. I know very well that Joseph's -teeth will be as sharp a year hence as they are now, and though I -have closed my ears to his sayings up to this time, it is right that -they should open now to his unjust remarks and reproaches. Come, -Joseph, for the last hour I have seen what you mean; you have wasted -a great deal of wit. Talk plain, I'm listening; say what you have on -your mind, with the whys and the wherefores. I will answer you -frankly." - -"Well, so be it; come to an explanation," said the Head-Woodsman, -reversing his glass and deciding the situation, as he well knew how -to do when it became necessary; "we will have no more drinking if it -is not to be in friendship, for it is ill mixing the devil's venom -with the good God's wine." - -"You surprise me, both of you," said Joseph, who had grown yellow to -the whites of his eyes, though he still continued to laugh -vindictively. "What the devil are you angry about, and why do you -scratch yourselves when nothing is biting you? I have nothing -against anybody; only I happen to be in the humor to jeer at -everything, and I don't think you are likely to rid me of it." - -"Perhaps I could," said Huriel, provoked. - -"Try," said Joseph, sneering. - -"That's enough!" said the Head-Woodsman, striking the table with his -heavy hand, "Hold your tongues, both of you, and as there is no -frankness in you, Joseph, I shall have enough for the two. You -misjudged in your heart the woman you wished to love; that is a wrong -that God can pardon, for it is not always easy for a man to be -trustful or distrustful in his friendships; but it is, unfortunately, -a wrong that cannot be repaired. You fell into that blunder; you -must accept the consequences and submit to them." - -"Why so, master?" said Joseph, setting up his back like an angry cat, -"who will tell the wrong to Brulette? she has not known or suffered -from it." - -"No one," said Huriel, "I am not a blackguard." - -"Then who will tell it?" demanded Joseph. - -"Yourself," said Père Bastien. - -"What can make me?" - -"The consciousness of your love for her. Doubt never comes singly. -You may get over the first twinge, but there comes a second, which -will issue from your lips at the first words you say to her." - -"In fact, I think it has happened already, Joseph," said I, "for this -very evening you offended the person we are speaking of." - -"Perhaps I did," he said haughtily, "but that is between her and me. -If I choose that she shall return to me what makes you think she will -not return? I remember my master's song,--the music is beautiful and -the words are true,--'Gifts are for those who pray.' Well, Huriel, -go ahead. Ask in words and I will ask in music, and we will see -whether or no I can't win her back again. Come, play fair, you who -blame what you call my crooked ways. The game is between us, and -we'll have no shuffling. A fine house has more than one door, and -we'll each knock at the one that suits us." - -"I am willing," said Huriel, "but you will please to remember one -thing. I will stand no more fault-finding, whether in jest or -earnest. If I overlook the past, my good-nature does not go so far -as to allow any more of it." - -"What do you mean by that?" demanded Joseph, whose bile interfered -with his memory. - -"I forbid you to ask," said the Head-Woodsman, "and I command you to -bethink yourself. If you fight my son you will be none the more -innocent for that, and it will not add to your credit if I withdraw -the forgiveness which, without a word of explanation, my heart has -already granted you." - -"Master!" cried Joseph, hot with excitement, "if you think you have -anything to forgive I thank you for your forgiveness; but, in my -opinion, I have done you no wrong. I never dreamed of deceiving you; -and if your daughter had said yes, I should not have backed down from -my offer. She is a girl without an equal for sense and uprightness; -I should have loved her, ill or well, but at any rate sincerely and -without betraying her. She might perhaps have saved me from much -evil and much suffering; but she did not think me worthy of her. -Therefore I am at liberty to court whom I will; and I consider that -the man I trusted and who promised me his help has made haste to take -advantage of my momentary pique to supplant me." - -"Your momentary pique lasted a month, Joseph," said Huriel; "be fair -about it,--one month, during which you asked my sister in marriage -three times. I am forced to believe that you held her in derision; -if you wish to clear yourself of that insult you must admit that I -was not to blame in the matter. I believed your word; that is the -only wrong I have done; don't give me reason to think it is one I -must repent of." - -Joseph kept silence; then, rising, he said, "Yes, you are good at -argument; you are both cleverer than I at that; I have spoken and -acted like a man who does not know what he wants; but you are greater -fools than I if you don't know that, without being mad, we may wish -for two opposite things. Leave me to be what I am, and I will leave -you to be what you wish to be. If your heart is honest, Huriel, I -shall soon know it, and if you win the game fairly, I will do you -justice and withdraw without resentment." - -"How can you tell if my heart is honest when you have been unable to -judge it rightly hitherto?? - -"I can tell by what you now say of me to Brulette," replied Joseph. -"You are in a position to prejudice her against me and I cannot do -the same by you." - -"Stop!" I said to Joseph, "don't blame any one unjustly. Thérence -has already told Brulette that you asked her in marriage not a -fortnight ago." - -"But nothing further has been or will be told," added Huriel; -"Joseph, we are better than you think us. We do not want to deprive -you of Brulette's friendship." - -The words touched Joseph, and he put out his hand as if to take -Huriel's; but the good intention stopped half-way, and he went off -without another word to any one. - -"A hard heart!" cried Huriel, who was too kind himself not to suffer -from this ingratitude. - -"No, an unhappy one," said his father. - -Struck by the words, I followed Joseph to either scold him or console -him, for he looked as if death were in his eyes. I was quite as much -displeased with him as Huriel was, but the old habit of pitying and -protecting him was so strong that it carried me after him whether I -would or no. - -He walked so rapidly along the road to Nohant that I soon lost sight -of him; but he stopped at the edge of the Lajon, a little pond on a -barren heath. The place is very dreary, and without shade, except -that of a few stunted trees ill-fed in the poor soil; but the swampy -land around the pond abounded with wild-flowers, and as the white -water-lily and other marsh plants were now in bloom, the place smelt -as sweet as a garden. - -Joseph had flung himself down among the reeds, and not knowing that -he was followed but believing himself all alone, he was groaning and -growling at the same time, like a wounded wolf. I called him, merely -to let him know I was there, for I knew he would not answer me, and I -went straight up to him. - -"This is not the right thing at all," I said to him; "you ought to -take counsel with yourself; tears are not reasons." - -"I am not weeping, Tiennet," he answered, in a steady voice. "I am -neither so weak nor so happy that I can find comfort that way. It is -seldom, in my worst moments, that a tear gets out of my eyes, and it -is fire, not water, that is forcing its way now, for it burns like -live coal. But don't ask me why; I can't tell why, and I don't want -to seek for the cause of it. The day of trusting in others is over -with me. I know my strength, and I no longer need their help. It -was only given out of pity, and I want no more of it; I can rely in -future on myself. Thank you for your good intentions. Thank you, -and please leave me." - -"But where are you going to spend the night?" - -"I am going to my mother's." - -"It is very late, and it is so far from here to Saint-Chartier." - -"No matter," he said, rising, "I can't stay here. We shall meet -to-morrow, Tiennet." - -"Yes, at home; we go back tomorrow." - -"I don't care where," he said. "Wherever she is--your Brulette--I -shall find her, and perhaps it will be seen that she has not made her -final choice!" - -He went off with a determined air, and seeing that his pride -supported him I offered no further consolation. Fatigue, and the -pleasure of seeing his mother, and a day or two for reflection might, -I hoped, bring him to reason. I planned, therefore, to advise -Brulette to stay at Chassin over the next day, and making my way back -to the village with this idea in my head I came upon the -Head-Woodsman and his son, in a corner of the field through which I -was making a short cut. They were preparing what they called their -bed-clothes; in other words, making ready to sleep on the ground, not -wishing to disturb the two girls in the castle, and really preferring -to lie under the stars at this sweet season of the year. I liked the -idea, too, for the fresh grass seemed much nicer than the hay of a -barn heated by the bodies of a score of other fellows. So I -stretched myself beside Huriel, looked at the little white clouds in -the clear sky, smelt the hawthorn odors, and fell asleep, thinking of -Thérence in the sweetest slumber I ever had in my life. - -I have always been a good sleeper, and in my youth I seldom wakened -of myself. My two companions, who had walked a long distance the day -before, let the sun rise without their knowing it, and woke up -laughing to find him ahead of them, which didn't happen very often. -They laughed still more to see how cautious I was not to tumble out -of bed when I opened my eyes and looked about to see where I was. - -"Come, up, my boy!" said Huriel; "we are late enough already. Do you -know something? It is the last day of May, and it is the fashion in -our parts to tie a nosegay to our sweetheart's door when there was no -chance to do it on the first of the month. There is no fear that any -one has got ahead of us, because, for one thing, no one knows where -my sister and your cousin are lodging, and for another, it isn't the -custom in this part of the country to leave, as we say, the -_call-again_ bunch. But we are so late I fear the girls are up, and -if they leave their rooms before the May-bunch is hung to the door -they will cry out upon us for laziness." - -"As cousin," I answer, laughing, "I permit you to hang your bunch, -and, as brother, I ask your permission to hang mine; but perhaps the -father won't hear of it with your ears." - -"Yes, he will," said Père Bastien. "Huriel said something to me -about it. There's no difficulty in trying; succeeding is another -thing. If you know how to manage it, so much the better, my lad. It -is your affair." - -Encouraged by his friendliness, I rushed into the adjoining copse -with a light heart, and cut off the whole branch of a wild -cherry-tree in full bloom, while Huriel, who had already provided -himself with one of those beautiful silk and gold ribbons which the -women of his country wear beneath their lace coifs, gathered a bunch -of white hawthorn and a bunch of pink and tied them in a nosegay that -was worthy of a queen. - -We made but three strides from the field to the castle, where the -silence assured us that the beauties still slept,--no doubt from -having talked half the night. But imagine our amazement when, on -entering the courtyard, our eyes lighted on a superb nosegay, decked -with silver and white ribbons, hanging to the door we intended to -garland. - -"The devil!" cried Huriel, preparing to tear away the offending -bunch, and looking askance at his dog whom he had stationed in the -courtyard. "Is this the way you guard the house, master Satan? Have -you made acquaintances already? why didn't you bite the legs of this -Mayday prowler?" - -"Stop," said the Head-Woodsman, preventing his son from taking down -the nosegay. "There is but one person in these parts whom Satan -knows and who also knows our custom of the call-again bunch, for he -has seen it practised among us. Now, you pledged your word to that -person not to interfere with him. You must be satisfied to make -yourself acceptable and not undermine him; respect his offering, just -as he, no doubt, would have respected yours." - -"Yes, father," replied Huriel, "if I were sure it was he; but it may -be some one else, and the bunch may be intended for Thérence." - -I remarked that no one knew Thérence or had even seen her, and -looking closer at the flowers I saw that a mass of white pond-lilies -had been freshly gathered and tied in bunches, and I remembered that -these plants were not common in the neighborhood and grew only in the -Lajon, on the banks of which I had found Joseph lying. No doubt, -instead of going to Saint-Chartier he had returned upon his steps; -and he must even have waded into the water on the shifting sand of -the pond, which is dangerous, before he could gather such an armful. - -"Well, the battle has begun," said Huriel, sighing, as he fastened -his May-bunch to the door with an anxious look that seemed to me very -modest, for he might well have felt sure of success and feared no -one. I wished I could feel as certain of his sister, and I hung up -my cherry-bough with a beating heart, as if she were just behind the -door all ready to fling it in my face. - -And pale I was when the door opened; but it was Brulette who came -first, and gave a kiss for good-morning to Père Bastien, a hand-shake -to me, and a rosy blush of pleasure to Huriel, though she did not -venture to speak to him. - -"Oh, father!" cried Thérence, following her and clasping the -Head-Woodsman in her arms; "have you been playing the young man all -night? Come, come in, and let me give you some breakfast. But -first, let me look at those nosegays. Three, Brulette! oh, what a -girl you are! is the procession to last all day?" - -"Only two for Brulette," said Huriel; "the third is for you, sister;" -and he gave her my cherry-bough, so full of bloom that it had rained -a white shower all round the door. - -"For me?" said Thérence, surprised. "Then you did it, brother, to -prevent my being jealous of Brulette?" - -"Brothers are not so gallant," said Père Bastien. "Have you no -suspicion of a timid and discreet lover who keeps his mouth shut -instead of declaring himself?" - -Thérence looked all round her as if she were trying to see some one -beside me, and when at last her black eyes rested on my discomfited -and idiotic face I thought she was going to laugh, which would have -stabbed me to the heart. But she did nothing of the kind, and even -blushed a little. Then, holding out her hand she said: "Thank you, -Tiennet; you have shown that you remember me, and I accept the gift -without giving it other meaning than belongs to a nosegay." - -"Well," said Père Bastien, "if you accept it, my daughter, you must -follow the usual custom, and fasten a spray of it to your coif." - -"No," said Thérence, "that might displease some of the girls -hereabouts, and I don't want my good Tiennet to repent of having done -me a kindness." - -"Oh, that won't displease anybody," I cried; "if it does not annoy -you, it would hugely please me." - -"So be it!" she said, breaking off a little twig of my flowers, which -she fastened with a pin to her head. "We are here in the Chassin, -Tiennet; if we were in your part of the country I should be more -careful, for fear of getting you into trouble with some compatriot." - -"You can get me into trouble with all of them, Thérence," I said; "I -ask nothing better." - -"As for that," she replied, "you go too fast. I don't know you well -enough, Tiennet, to say if it would be well for either of us." Then -changing the subject with that forgetfulness of herself which came so -naturally to her, she said to Brulette: "It is your turn, darling; -what return are you going to make for your two May bunches? which of -them is to deck your cap?" - -"Neither, till I know where they came from," replied my prudent -cousin. "Tell me, Huriel, and keep me from making a mistake." - -"I can't tell you," said Huriel, "except that this is mine." - -"Then I shall carry it whole," she said, taking it down, "and as to -that bunch of water-flowers, they must feel very much out of place on -a door. I think they will be happier in the moat." - -So saying, she adorned her cap and the front of her dress with -Huriel's flowers, and took the rest into her room; then, returning, -she was about to throw the lilies into the old moat which separated -the courtyard from the park, when Huriel, unwilling that such an -insult should be offered to his rival, stopped her hand. At this -moment the sound of a bagpipe came from the shrubbery which closed -the little court in front of us, and some one, who had been near -enough to hear every word that had passed, played Père Bastien's air -of the "Three Woodsmen." - -He played it first as we knew it, next a little differently, in a -softer and sadder way, then changing it throughout, varying the keys, -adding music of his own, which was not less beautiful, and even -seemed to sigh and to entreat in so tender a manner that we who heard -it could hardly help being touched with compassion. At last the -player took a stronger and louder tone,--as though it were a song of -reproach and authority, and Brulette, who had gone to the edge of the -moat intending to ding away the lilies, drew back as if terrified by -the anger which was expressed in the sounds. Then Joseph, shoving -aside the bushes with his feet and shoulders, appeared on the other -side of the moat, still piping, his eyes blazing, and seeming, both -by his looks and by his music, to threaten Brulette with some great -disaster if she did not desist from the insult she was about to offer -him. - - - - -TWENTY-SEVENTH EVENING. - -"Noble music and a fine player," cried Père Bastien, clapping his -hands when the sounds ceased. "That is both good and beautiful, -Joseph; it is easy to console yourself for everything when you have -the ball at your feet in that way. Come over here, and let us -compliment you." - -"Nothing consoles for an insult, master," replied Joseph; "and for -the rest of my days there will be a ditch full of thorns between -Brulette and me if she throws my offering into that moat." - -"Heaven forbid," cried Brulette, "that I should make such an ill -return for the beautiful nosegay. Come over here, José; there need -be no thorns between us but those you plant yourself." - -Joseph sprang into the courtyard, bursting like a wild boar through -the line of thick-set brambles which divided him from the moat, and -darting across the green slime which filled the bottom of it; then -snatching the flowers from Brulette's hand, he pulled out several, -which he tried to fasten on her head beside Huriel's pink and white -hawthorn-blossoms. He did it with an air of authority, as though he -had a right to exercise his will. But Brulette stopped him, saying:-- - -"One moment, Joseph; I have an idea of my own, and you must submit to -it. You will soon be received into the bagpipers' guild; now God has -given me a sense of music, enough to let me understand something of -it without ever having learned. I've a fancy to have a competition -here, and to reward the one who plays best. Give your bagpipe to -Huriel, and let him make his trial just as you have now made yours." - -"Yes, yes, I agree to that entirely," cried Joseph, whose face shone -with defiance. "It is your turn, Huriel; make the buck-skin warble -like the throat of a nightingale, if you can!" - -"That was not in our agreement, Joseph," answered Huriel. "You -agreed that I should speak, and I have spoken. I agreed to leave -music, in which you excel me, to you. Take back your bagpipe, and -speak again in your own language; no one here will weary of hearing -you." - -"As you own yourself vanquished," returned Joseph, "I shall play no -more, unless Brulette requests it." - -"Play," she said; and while he played in a marvellous way, she wove a -garland of white lilies and tied it with the silver ribbon that bound -the bunch. When the music ended she went up to Joseph and twisted -the wreath about the pipe of his instrument, saying,-- - -"José, noblest piper, I receive thee into the guild, and give thee -the prize. May this wreath bring thee happiness and glory, and prove -to thee the high esteem in which I hold thy great talents." - -"Yes, that's all very well," said Joseph. "Thank you, my Brulette; -now complete my happiness and make me prouder still by wearing one of -the flowers you give me. Select the finest and put it next your -heart, if you will not wear it on your head." - -Brulette smiled and blushed, beautiful as an angel; then she looked -at Huriel, who turned pale, thinking it was all over with him. - -"Joseph," she answered, "I have granted you the first of all -triumphs, that of music. You must be satisfied, and cease to ask for -that of love, which is not won by strength or knowledge, but by the -will of the good God." - -Huriel's face lighted, Joseph's darkened. - -"Brulette," he cried, "God's will must be as my will!" - -"Gently," she said, "He alone is master; and here is one of his -little angels, who must not hear words against our holy religion." - -As she spoke she took Charlot, who came bounding after her like a -lamb to its mother, into her arms. Thérence, who returned to her -room while Joseph was playing, had just taken him up, and the child, -without letting himself be dressed, had run out half-naked to kiss -his darling, as he called Brulette, with a jealous and masterful air -which contrasted amusingly with that of the lovers. - -Joseph, who had forgotten his suspicions, concluding he was duped by -young Carnat's letter, drew back on seeing Charlot as though the -child were a snake; and as he watched him kissing Brulette eagerly -and calling her "mamma" and "Charlot's darling," a mist came over his -eyes and he well-nigh swooned away; but almost immediately he sprang -in a burst of anger toward the child, and clutching him brutally, -cried out in a choking voice: "Here's the truth at last! This is the -trick that has been played upon me, and the mastery of love that has -defeated me!" - -Brulette, frightened by Joseph's violence and Charlot's cries, tried -to rescue the child; but Joseph, quite beside himself, pulled him -away, laughing savagely and saying he wanted to look at him with all -his eyes and see the resemblance; so doing he nearly choked the -child, without meaning it, to Brulette's horror, and she, not daring -to add to the boy's danger by attempting to rescue him, turned back -to Huriel, crying,-- - -"My child, my child! he is killing my poor child!" - -Huriel made but one stride; catching Joseph by the nape of the neck, -he held him so tightly and firmly that his arms relaxed and I caught -Charlot from him and gave the half unconscious child back to Brulette. - -Joseph nearly fainted too, as much from the violence of his anger as -from the way in which Huriel had handled him. A fight would -certainly have followed (and the Head-Woodsman had already flung -himself between them) if Joseph had understood what was happening; -but he was unable to consider anything except that Brulette was a -mother, and that both she and we had deceived him. - -"You no longer hide it?" he said to her, in a choking voice. - -"What are you saying to me?" asked Brulette, who was sitting on the -grass, all in tears, and trying to ease the bruises on Charlot's -arms; "you are a wicked madman, I know that. Don't come near me, and -never harm this child again or God will curse you." - -"One word, Brulette," said Joseph; "if you are his mother, confess -it. I will pity and forgive you; in fact, I will even defend you, if -necessary. But if you can only deny it by a lie--I shall despise -you, and forget you." - -"His mother? I, his mother?" cried Brulette, springing up as if to -cast off Charlot. "You think I am his mother?" she said again, -taking back the poor child, the cause of all the trouble, and -pressing him to her heart. Then she looked about her with a -bewildered air, and her eyes sought Huriel. "Can it be possible," -she cried, "that any one could think such a thing of me?" - -"The proof that no one thinks it," cried Huriel, going up to her and -kissing Charlot, "is that we love the child whom you love." - -"Say something better than that, brother," cried Thérence, eagerly. -"Say what you said to me yesterday: 'Whether the child is hers or -not, he shall be mine, if she will be mine.'" - -Brulette flung both arms round Huriel's neck and hung there like a -vine to an oak. - -"Be my master, then," she said; "I never had, and I never will have -another than you." - -Joseph watched this sudden understanding, of which he was the cause, -with an anguish and regret that were terrible to see. The cry of -truth in Brulette's words had convinced him, and he fancied he had -dreamed the wrong he had just done her. He felt that all was over -between them, and without a word he picked up his bagpipe and fled -away. - -Père Bastien ran after him and brought him back, saying:-- - -"No, no, that is not the way to part after a lifelong friendship. -Bring down your pride, Joseph, and ask pardon of this honest girl. -She is my daughter, their word is now pledged, and I am glad of it; -but she must remain your sister. A woman forgives a brother for what -she could never pardon in a lover." - -"She may pardon me if she can and if she will," said Joseph; "but if -I am guilty, I can receive no absolution but my own. Hate me, -Brulette; that may be best for me. I see I have done the one thing -that was needed to lose your regard. I can never get it back; but if -you pity me, don't tell me so. I ask nothing further of you." - -"All this would not have happened," said Brulette, "if you had done -your duty, which was to go and see your mother. Go now, Joseph; but, -above all, don't tell her what you have accused me of. She would die -of grief." - -"My dear daughter," said the Head-Woodsman, still detaining Joseph, -"I think we do better not to scold children until their minds are -quiet. Otherwise, they take things crookedly and do not profit by -rebuke. To my thinking Joseph has times of aberration; and if he -does not make honorable amends as readily as others do, it is perhaps -because he feels his wrong-doing and suffers more from his own -self-blame than from the blame of others. Set him an example of good -sense and kindness. It is not difficult to forgive when we are -happy, and you ought to be content to be loved as you are here. More -love you could not have; for I now know things of you which make me -hold you in such esteem that here are a pair of hands that will wring -the neck of whoever insults you deliberately. But that was not the -nature of Joseph's insult, which came from excitement, not -reflection, and shame followed so swiftly that his heart is now -making you full reparation. Come, Joseph, add your word to mine; I -ask no more than that of you; and Brulette too, will be satisfied, -will you not, my daughter?" - -"You don't know him, father, if you think he will say that word," -replied Brulette; "but I won't exact it, because I want, above all -things, to satisfy you. And so, Joseph, I forgive you, though you -don't care much about that. Stay and breakfast with us, and talk -about something else; what has happened is forgotten." - -Joseph said not a word, but he took off his hat and laid down his -stick as if meaning to stay. The two girls re-entered the house to -prepare the meal, and Huriel, who took great care of his horse, began -to groom and currycomb him. I looked after Charlot, whom Brulette -handed over to my keeping; and the Head-Woodsman, wishing to divert -Joseph's mind, talked music, and praised the variations he had given -to his song. - -"Never speak to me of that song again," said Joseph; "it can only -remind me of painful things, and I wish to forget it." - -"Well then," said Père Bastien, "play me something of your own -composition, here and now, just as the thought comes to you." - -Joseph led the way into the park, and we heard him in the distance -playing such sad and plaintive airs that his soul seemed really -prostrate with contrition and repentance. - -"Do you hear him?" I said to Brulette; "that is certainly his way of -confessing, and if sorrow is a reparation, he gives you of his best." - -"I don't think there is a very tender heart beneath that rough pride -of his," replied Brulette. "I feel, just now, like Thérence; a -little tenderness is more attractive to me than much talent. But I -forgive him; and if my pity is not as great as Joseph wants to make -it by his music, it is because I know he has a consolation of which -my indifference cannot deprive him,--I mean the admiration which he -and others feel for his talents. If Joseph did not care for that -more than for love or friendship, his tongue would not now be dumb -and his eye dry to the reproof of friendship. He is quite capable of -asking for what he wants." - -"Well," said the Head-Woodsman, returning alone from the park, "did -you hear him, my children? He said all he could and would say, and, -satisfied to have drawn tears from my old eyes, he has gone away -tranquillized." - -"But you could not keep him to breakfast," said Thérence, smiling. - -"No," answered her father; "he played too well not to be three parts -comforted; and he prefers to go away in that mood, rather than after -some folly he might be led into saying or doing at table." - - - - -TWENTY-EIGHTH EVENING. - -We ate our meal in peace, feeling relieved of the apprehensions of -the night before as to the quarrel between Joseph and Huriel: and, as -Thérence plainly showed, both in Joseph's presence and in his -absence, that she had no feeling, good or ill, about the past, I -indulged, as did Huriel and Fere Bastien, in tranquil and joyous -thoughts. Charlot, finding that everybody petted him, began to -forget the man who had frightened and bruised him. Every now and -then he would start and look behind him at some trifling noise, but -Thérence laughingly assured him the man was safely gone and would not -return. We seemed like a family party, and I thought to myself, -while courting Thérence with the utmost deference, that I would make -my love less imperious and more patient than Joseph's. - -Brulette seemed anxious and overcome, as though cut to the heart by a -foul blow. Huriel was uneasy about her, but the Head-Woodsman, who -knew the human soul in all its windings, and who was so good that his -face and his words poured balm into every wound, took her little -hands in his and drew her pretty head to his breast, saying, at the -end of the meal:-- - -"Brulette, we have one thing to ask of you, and though you look so -sad and distressed, my son and I will venture to make our request -now. Won't you give us a smile of encouragement?" - -"Tell me what it is, father, and I will obey you," answered Brulette. - -"Well, my daughter, it is that you will present us to-morrow to your -grandfather, so that he may be asked to accept Huriel as a grandson." - -"Oh, it is too soon, father," cried Brulette, shedding a few more -tears, "or rather, it is too late; if you had told me to do so an -hour ago, before Joseph uttered those words, I would gladly have -consented. But now, I confess, I should be ashamed to accept so -readily the love of an honest man, when I find I am no longer -supposed to be an honest girl. I knew I had been blamed for -coquetry. Your son himself twitted me about it a year ago. Thérence -blamed me,--though, for all that, she gave me her friendship. So, -seeing that Huriel had the courage to leave me without asking for -anything, I made a great many reflections in my own mind. The good -God helped me by sending me this child, whom I did not like at first -and might possibly have rejected, if my sense of duty had not been -mixed with a sort of idea that I should be better worthy of being -loved through a little suffering and self-denial than for my chatter -and my pretty clothes. I thought I could atone for my thoughtless -years and trample my love for my own little person underfoot. I knew -that I was criticised and neglected, but I consoled myself with the -thought: 'If he comes back to me he will know that I do not deserve -to be blamed for getting serious and sensible.' But now I have heard -something very different, partly through Joseph's conduct, partly by -Thérence's remark. It was not Joseph only who thought I had gone -astray, but Huriel also, or his great heart and his strong love would -have had no need to say to his sister yesterday: 'Guilty or not -guilty, I love her, and will take her as she is.' Ah, Huriel! I -thank you; but I will not let you marry me till you know me. I -should suffer too much to see you blamed, as you doubtless would be, -on my account. I respect you too much to let it be said that you -take upon yourself the paternity of a foundling. I must indeed have -been light in my behavior, or such an accusation could never have -been made against me! Well, I wish you to judge me now by my -every-day conduct; I want you to be sure that I am not only a gay -dancer at a wedding but the good guardian of my duty in my home. We -will come and live here, as you desire it; and in a year from now, if -I am not able to prove to you that my care of Charlot need not cause -me to blush, I shall at least have given you by my actions a proof -that I am reasonable in mind and sound in conscience." - -Huriel snatched Brulette from his father's arms, and reverently -kissed the tears that were flowing from her beautiful eyes; then he -gave her back to Père Bastien, saying:-- - -"Bless her, my father; for you can now judge if I told you false when -I said she was worthy of your blessing. The dear golden tongue has -spoken well, and there is no answer to make to it, unless it be that -we want neither year nor day of trial, but desire to go this very -evening and ask her of her grandfather; for to pass another night -still doubtful of his consent is more than I can bear, and to get it -is all I need to make me sovereign of the world." - -"See what has happened to you by asking for a respite," said Père -Bastien to Brulette. "Instead of asking your grandfather to-morrow, -it seems it must be to-night. Come, my child, you must submit; it is -the punishment of your naughty conduct in times gone by." - -Contentment overspread her sweet face, and the hurt she had received -from Joseph was forgotten. However, just as we left the table, -another hesitation seized her. Charlot, hearing Huriel address the -Head-Woodsman as father, called him so himself, and was kissed and -fondled for it, but Brulette was a trifle vexed. - -"Wouldn't it be best," she said, "to take the trouble to invent -parents for the poor child; every time he calls me mother it seems -like a stab to those I love." - -We were beginning to reassure her on this point when Thérence said: -"Speak low; some one is listening to us;" and following her glance -toward the porch, we saw the end of a stick resting on the ground, -and the bulging side of a full sack, showing that a beggar was there, -waiting till some one took notice of him, and hearing things that he -ought not to hear. - -I went up to the intruder and recognized Brother Nicolas, who came -forward at once and admitted without hesitation that he had been -listening for the last quarter of an hour, and had been very well -pleased with what he had heard. - -"I thought I knew Huriel's voice," he said, "but I so little expected -to find him on my rounds that I should not have been certain, my dear -friends, that it was he, but for some things which you have been -saying, in which, as Brulette knows, I have a right to intrude." - -"We know it too," said Huriel. - -"Do you?" exclaimed the monk. "Well, that's as it should be." - -"And the reason is," said Huriel to Brulette, "that your aunt told me -everything last night. So you see, dearest, I don't deserve all the -credit you give me." - -"Yes," said Brulette, much comforted, "but yesterday morning! Well, -since everything is known," she added, turning to the monk, "what do -you advise me to do, Brother Nicolas? You have been employed on -Charlot's account; can't you find some story to spread about to cover -the secret of his parentage and repair the harm done to my -reputation?" - -"Story?" said the friar. "I, advise and abet a lie? I am not one of -those who damn their souls for the love of the young girls, my little -one. I should gain nothing by it. You must be helped some other -way; and I have already been working at it more than you think. Have -patience; all will come out right, as it did in another matter, -where, as Maître Huriel knows, I have not been a bad friend to him." - -"I know that I owe you the peace and safety of my life," said Huriel. -"People may say what they like of monks, I know one, at least, for -whom I would be drawn and quartered. Sit down, Brother, and spend -the day with us. What is ours is yours, and the house we are in is -yours too." - -Thérence and the Head-Woodsman were showing their hospitality to the -good friar, when my aunt Marghitonne came hurrying up, and would not -let us stay anywhere but with her. She said the wedding party were -going to perform the "cabbage ceremony;" which is an old-fashioned -foolery practised the day after the marriage; the procession, she -said, was already forming and was coming round our way. The company -drank, and sang, and danced at each stopping-place. It was -impossible for Thérence now to keep aloof, and she accepted my arm to -go and meet the crowd, while Huriel escorted Brulette. My aunt took -charge of the little one, and the Head-Woodsman marched off with the -monk, who was easily persuaded into joining a jovial company. - -The fellow who played the part of gardener, or as we still say among -us, the pagan, seated on a hand-barrow, was decorated in a style that -astonished everybody. He had picked up near the park a beautiful -garland of waterlilies tied with a silver ribbon, which he had bound -about his flaxen poll. It didn't take us much time to recognize -Joseph's bunch, which he had dropped or thrown away on leaving us. -The ribbons were the envy of all the girls of the party, who -deliberated how to get possession of them unspoiled; at last, -flinging themselves on the pagan, they snatched them away from him -and divided the booty, though in defending himself he managed to kiss -more than one with a mouth that was covered with foam. So scraps of -Joseph's ribbon glittered all day in the caps of the prettiest girls -in the neighborhood, and came to a much better end than their owner -thought for when he left his bunch in the dust of the road. - -This farce, played from door to door through the village, was as -crazy as usual, ending with a fine repast and dancing till twilight. -After which, we all took leave, Brulette and I, the Head-Woodsman, -Thérence, and Huriel, and started for Nohant, with the monk at our -head, leading the _clairin_, on which Charlot was perched, tipsy with -excitement at what he had seen, laughing like a monkey, and trying to -sing as he had heard others do all that day. - -Though the young people of the present age have degenerated wofully, -you must often have seen girls in their teens tramping fifteen miles -in the morning and as much more in the evening in the hottest -weather, for a day's dancing, and so you can easily believe that we -arrived at home without fatigue. Indeed, we danced part of the way -along the road, we four; the Head-Woodsman playing his bagpipe, and -the friar declaring we were crazy, but clapping his hands to excite -us on. - -We reached Brulette's door about ten at night, and found Père Brulet -sound asleep in his bed. As he was quite deaf and slept hard, -Brulette put the baby to bed, served us a little collation, and -consulted with us whether to wake him before he had finished his -first nap. However, turning over on his side, he saw the light, -recognized his granddaughter and me, seemed surprised at the others, -and sitting up in bed as sober as a judge, listened to a statement -the Head-Woodsman made to him in a few words, spoken rather loud but -very civilly. The monk, in whom Père Brulet had the utmost -confidence, followed in praise of the Huriel family, and Huriel -himself declared his wishes and all his good intentions both present -and to come. - -Père Brulet listened without saying a word, and I began to fear he -had not understood; but no such thing; though he seemed to be -dreaming, his mind was really quite clear, and he presently answered -discreetly that he recognized in the Head-Woodsman the son of a -former friend; that he held the family in much esteem, and considered -Brother Nicolas as worthy of all confidence; and, above all, he -trusted in the sense and good judgment of his granddaughter. Then he -went on to say that she had not delayed her choice and refused the -best offers of the neighborhood to commit a folly in the end, and -that if she wished to marry Huriel, Huriel would certainly be a good -husband. - -He spoke in a collected manner: yet his memory failed him on one -point, which he recalled soon after, as we were about to take leave, -namely, that Huriel was a muleteer. - -"That is the only thing that troubles me," he said. "My girl will be -so lonely at home by herself for three-quarters of the year." - -We satisfied him at once with the news that Huriel had left the craft -and become a woodsman; and thereupon he readily agreed to the plan of -working in the woods of Chassin during the summer months. - -We parted, all well pleased with one another. Thérence stayed with -Brulette, and I took the others to my own house. - -We learned the next evening, through the monk, who had been begging -about all day, that Joseph had not gone near the village of Nohant, -but had spent an hour with his mother at Saint-Chartier, after which -he started to go round the neighborhood and collect all the bagpipers -for a meeting, at which he would demand a competition for admission -to the craft and the right to practise the calling. Mariton was much -troubled by this determination, believing that the Carnats, father -and son, and all the bagpipers of the country round, who were already -more in number than were needed, would oppose it and cause him both -trouble and injury. But Joseph would not listen to her, still saying -that he was resolved to get her out of service and take her to some -distant place to live with him, though she seemed not as much -inclined to that idea as he had hoped. - -On the third day, all our preparations having been made, and Huriel -and Brulette's first banns published in the parish church, we started -to return to Chassin. It was like departing on a pilgrimage to the -ends of the earth. We were obliged to carry furniture, for Brulette -was determined that her grandfather should lack for nothing; so a -cart was hired and the whole village opened its eyes very wide to see -the entire contents of the house going off, even to the baskets. The -goats and the hens went too, for Thérence was delighted at the idea -of taking care of them; never having known how to manage animals, she -wanted to learn, as she said, when the opportunity offered. This -gave me the chance to propose myself in jest for her management, as -the most docile and faithful animal of the flock. She was not -annoyed, but gave me no encouragement to pass from jest to earnest. -Only, it did seem to me that she was not displeased to find me -cheerfully leaving home and family to follow her; and that if she did -little to attract me she certainly did still less to repulse me. - -Just as old Brulet and the women, with Charlot, were getting into the -cart (Brulette very proud of going off with such a handsome lover, in -the teeth of all the lovers who had misjudged her), the friar came up -to say good-bye, adding for the benefit of inquisitive ears: "As I am -going over to your parts, I'll ride a bit of the way with you." - -He got up beside Père Brulet, and at the end of the third mile, in a -shady road, he asked to be set down. Huriel was leading the -_clairin_, which was a good draught horse as well as a pack horse, -and the Head-Woodsman and I walked in front. Seeing that the cart -lagged behind, we turned back, thinking there might have been an -accident, and found Brulette in tears, kissing Charlot, who clung to -her screaming because the friar was endeavoring to carry him off. -Huriel interceded against it, for he was so troubled at Brulette's -tears that he came near crying himself. - -"What is the matter?" said Père Bastien. "Why do you wish to send -away the child, my daughter? Is it because of the notion you -expressed the other day?" - -"No, father," replied Brulette, "his real parents have sent for him, -and it is for his good to go. The poor little fellow can't -understand that; and even I, though I do understand it, my heart -fails me. But as there are good reasons why the thing should be done -without delay, give me courage instead of taking it away from me." - -Though talking of courage she had none at all against Charlot's tears -and kisses, for she had really come to love him with much tenderness; -so Thérence was called in to help her. Every look and tone of the -woodland girl conveyed such a sense of her loving-kindness that the -stones themselves would have been persuaded, and the child felt it, -though he did not know why. She succeeded in pacifying him, making -him understand that Brulette was leaving him for a short time only, -so that Brother Nicolas was able to carry him off without using -force; and the pair disappeared to the tune of a sort of rondo which -the monk sang to divert his charge, though it was more like a church -chant than a song. But Charlot was pleased, and when their voices -were lost in the distance that of the monk had drowned his expiring -moans. - -"Come, Brulette, start on," said Père Bastien. "We love you so well -we can soon console you." - -Huriel jumped on the shaft to be near her, and talked to her so -gently all the way that she said to him just before we arrived: -"Don't think me inconsolable, my true friend. My heart failed me for -a second; but I know where to turn the love I felt for that child, -and where I shall find the happiness he gave me." - -It did not take us long to settle down in the old castle and even to -feel at home in it. There were several habitable chambers, though -they hardly looked so, and at first we thought them likely to fall -about our heads. But the ruins had so long been shaken by the wind -without collapsing that we felt they might outlast our time. - -Aunt Marghitonne, delighted to have us near her, furnished the -household with the various little comforts to which we were -accustomed, and which the Huriel family were coaxed with some -difficulty into sharing with us, for they were not used to such -things and cared very little for them. The Bourbonnais wood-cutters, -whom the Head-Woodsman had engaged, arrived duly, and he hired others -in the neighborhood. So that we made quite a colony, quartered -partly in the village and partly in the ruins, working cheerfully -under the rule of a just man, who knew what it was to spare over-work -and to reward the willing workman, and assembling every night in the -courtyard for the evening meal; relating stories and listening to -them; singing and frolicking in the open air, and dancing on Sundays -with all the lads and lasses of the neighborhood, who were glad -enough to get our Bourbonnais music, and who brought us little gifts -from all parts, showing us a deal of attention. - -The work was hard on account of the steep slopes on which the forest -grew, which rose straight from the river, and made the felling a very -dangerous matter. I had had experience of the quick temper of the -Head-Woodsman in the woods of Alleu. As he was employing none but -choice workmen for the felling, and the choppers understood the -cutting up, nothing happened to irritate him; but I was ambitious to -become a first-class chopper in order to please him, and I dreaded -lest my want of practice should once more make him call me unhandy -and imprudent, which would have mortified me cruelly in presence of -Thérence. So I begged Huriel to take me apart and show me how to -work and to let me watch him at the business. He was quite willing -to oblige me, and I went at it with such a will that before long I -surprised the master himself by my ability. He praised me, and even -asked me before his daughter why I took hold so valiantly of a -business I had no occasion for in my own country. "Because," I -replied, "I am not sorry to know how to earn my living wherever I am. -Who knows what may happen? If I loved a woman who wanted me to live -in the depths of the woods, I could follow her, and support her there -as elsewhere." - -To prove to Thérence I was not so self-indulgent as perhaps she -thought, I practised sleeping on the bare ground, and living -frugally; trying to become as hardy a forester as the rest of them. -I did not find myself any the worse for it; in fact I felt that my -mind grew more active and my thoughts clearer. Many things that I -did not at first understand without long explanations, unravelled -themselves little by little, of their own accord, so that Thérence -had no longer any occasion to smile at my stupid questions. She -talked to me without getting weary and appeared to feel confidence in -my judgment. - -Still, a full fortnight went by before I felt the slightest hope of -success; though when I bemoaned myself to Huriel that I dared not say -a word to a girl who seemed so far above me that she could never so -much as look at me, he replied,-- - -"Don't worry, Tiennet; my sister has the truest heart in existence; -and if, like all young girls, she has her fanciful moments, there is -no fancy in her head which will not yield to the love of a noble -truth and an honest devotion." - -His father said the same, and together they lent me courage; and -Thérence found me so good an attendant, I watched so closely that no -pain, fatigue, or annoyance should touch her from any cause within my -power to control, and I was so careful never to look at another -girl,--indeed I had little desire to,--in short, I behaved myself -with such honest respect, showing her plainly on what a pinnacle I -set her, that her eyes began to open; and several times I saw her -watch how I went beforehand of her wishes with a softened, reflective -look, and then reward me with thanks of which, I can tell you, I was -proud enough. She was not accustomed, like Brulette, to have her -wishes anticipated, and would never have known, like her, how to -encourage it prettily. She seemed surprised that any one thought of -her; and when it did happen, she showed such a sense of obligation -that I never felt at my ease when she said to me with her serious air -and guileless frankness, "Really, Tiennet, you are too kind," or -perhaps, "Tiennet, you take too much trouble for me; I wish I could -take as much for you some day." - -One morning she was speaking to me in this way before a number of -woodcutters, and one of them, a handsome Bourbonnais lad, remarked in -a low tone that she showed a deal of interest in me. - -"Certainly I do, Leonard," she replied, looking at him with a -confident air. "I feel the interest that is due to him for all his -kindness and friendship to me and mine." - -"Don't you know that every one would do as he does," remarked -Leonard, "if they thought they would be paid in the same coin?" - -"I would try to be just to everybody," she replied, "if I felt a -liking or a need for everybody's attentions. But I don't; and to one -of my disposition the friendship of one person suffices." - -I was sitting on the turf beside her as she said this, and I took her -hand in mine, without daring to retain it more than a second. She -drew it away, but as she did so she let it rest a moment on my -shoulder in sign of confidence and relationship of soul. - -However, things still went on in this way, and I began to suffer -greatly from the reserve between us,--all the more because the lovers -Huriel and Brulette were so tender and happy, and the contrast -grieved my heart and troubled my spirit. Their day of joy was -coming, but mine was not within sight. - - - - -TWENTY-NINTH EVENING. - -One Sunday--it was that of the last publication of Brulette's -banns--the Head-Woodsman and his son, who had seemed all day to be -consulting privately, went off together, saying that a matter -connected with the marriage called them to Nohant. Brulette, who -knew all about the arrangements for her wedding, was a good deal -surprised at their sudden activity, and still more that they told her -nothing about it. She was even inclined to pout at Huriel, who said -he should be absent for twenty-four hours; but he would not yield, -and managed to pacify her by letting her think he was only going on -her business and planning to give her some pleasant surprise. - -But Thérence, whom I watched narrowly, seemed to me to make an effort -to hide her uneasiness, and as soon as her father and Huriel had -started, she carried me off into the little park and said:-- - -"Tiennet, I am worried to death, and I don't know what can be done to -remedy matters. Listen to what has happened, and tell me if we can -do anything to prevent harm. Last night as I lay awake I heard my -father and brother agreeing to go and protect Joseph, and from what -they said I made out that Joseph, though very ill-received by the -bagpipers of your parts, to whom he applied for admission to the -guild, is determined to insist on admittance,--a thing that they dare -not refuse him openly without having put his talents to the test. It -appears that the younger Carnat has also applied for admittance in -place of his father, who retires; and his trial was to take place -before the corporation this very day; so that Joseph has put himself -forward to interfere with a claim that was not to be contested, and -which was promised and half-granted in advance. Now, some of our -wood-cutters who frequent the wine-shops have overheard certain -wicked plans which the bagpipers of your neighborhood are making; for -they are resolved to eject Joseph, if they can, by sneering at his -music. If there was no greater risk than his having to bear -injustice and defeat, I should not be so uneasy as you see me; but my -father and brother, who belong to the guild and have a voice in all -proceedings, feel it their duty to be present at this competition -solely to protect Joseph. And, more than that, there was something I -could not make out, because the guild have certain secret terms among -themselves which my father and brother used, and which I did not -understand. But however one looks at it, I am sure they are going -into danger, for they carried under their blouses those little -single-sticks, the harm of which you have already seen, and they even -sharpened their pruning-hooks and hid them under their clothes, -saying to each other early this morning, 'The devil is in that lad; -he can neither be happy himself nor let others be. We must protect -him, however; though he is obstinately rushing among the wolves, -without thinking of his own skin or that of others.' My brother -complained, saying he did not want to break anybody's head or have -his own broken just as he was going to be married. To which my -father replied that there was no use in anticipating evil; what one -had to do was to go where humanity required us to help our neighbor. -As they named Leonard among those who had overheard the malicious -talk, I questioned him hastily just now, and he told me that Joseph, -and consequently those who support him, have been threatened for a -week or more, and that your bagpipers talk of not only refusing him -admittance at this competition, but also of depriving him of the wish -and the power to try again. I know, from having heard it spoken of -as a child when my brother was admitted, that the candidates must -behave boldly and endure all sorts of trials of their strength and -courage. With us, the bagpipers lead a wandering life and do not -make their music so much of a business as yours do; therefore they -don't stand in each other's way and never persecute the candidates. -It seems, from what Leonard told me and from my father's -preparations, that here it is different, and that such matters end in -fights which last till one or the other side gives up. Help me, -Tiennet, for I am half-dead with fear and anxiety. I dare not rouse -our wood-cutters; if my father thought I had overheard and betrayed -the secrets of the guild he would deny me all trust and confidence in -future. He expects me to be as brave as any woman can be in danger; -but ever since that dreadful Malzac affair, I own to you I have no -courage at all, and that I am tempted to fling myself into the middle -of the fight, so much do I dread the results for those I love." - -"And you call that want of courage, my brave girl?" I replied. "Now -don't be troubled and leave me to act. The devil will be very -cunning if I can't discover for myself, without suspicion falling on -you, what those bagpipers are about; and if your father blames me, if -he even drives me away and refuses the happiness I have been hoping -to win,--I shall not care, Thérence! So long as I bring him or send -him safe back to you, and Huriel also, I shall have my reward even if -I never see you again. Good-bye; don't give way to anxiety; say -nothing to Brulette, for she would lose her head. I know what should -be done. Look as if you knew nothing. I take it all on my -shoulders." - -Thérence flung herself on my breast and kissed me on both cheeks with -the innocence of a pure girl; so, filled to the brim with courage and -confidence, I went to work. - -I began by finding Leonard, whom I knew to be a good fellow, very -bold and strong, and much attached to Père Bastien. Though he was -rather jealous of me on the score of Thérence, he entered into my -scheme, and I questioned him as to the number of bagpipers who were -to meet for the competition, and the place where we could watch the -assembly. He could not tell me anything under the first head; as to -the second he knew that the trial was not to be in secret, and the -place appointed was Saint-Chartier, in Benoît's tavern, an hour after -vespers. The deliberation on the merits of the candidates was all -that was to be held in secret, and even that was to be in the same -house, and the decision was to be rendered in public. - -I thought of half a dozen resolute lads fully able to keep the peace -if, as Thérence feared, the matter should end in a quarrel; and I -felt that justice being on our side, plenty of other fellows would -come forward to support us. So I chose four who consented to follow -me,--making, with Leonard and myself, six in all. They hesitated -only on one point,--the fear of displeasing their master, the -Head-Woodsman, by giving him help he had never asked for; but I swore -to them that he should never know that they gave it deliberately, for -we could easily pretend we were there by accident, and then, if any -one were blamed, they could throw it all on me, who had asked them -there to drink without their knowing what was going on. - -So it was all agreed, and I went to tell Thérence that we were fully -prepared against every danger. After which we started, each carrying -a stout cudgel, and reached Saint-Chartier at the hour named. - -Benoît's wine-shop was so full there was no turning round in it, and -we were obliged to take a table outside. Indeed I was not sorry to -leave my contingent there (exhorting them not to get drunk), and to -slip myself into the shop, where I counted sixteen professional -bagpipers, without reckoning Huriel and his father, who were sitting -at table in a dark corner with their hats over their eyes, and all -the less likely to be recognized because few of those present had met -them in our parts. I pretended not to see them, and speaking so that -they could hear me, I asked Benoît what this meeting of bagpipers was -for, as if I had not heard a word about it, and did not understand -its object. - -"Why, don't you know," said the host, who was getting over his -illness but was pallid and much reduced, "that your old friend -Joseph, the son of my housekeeper, is going to compete with Carnat's -son? I must say it is great folly on his part," added Benoît, -lowering his voice. "His mother is much distressed, and fears the -ill-will that grows out of these competitions. Indeed, she is so -troubled that she has lost her head, and the customers are -complaining, for the first time, that she does not serve them -properly." - -"Can I help you?" I said, glad to get a reason for staying inside and -going about among the tables. - -"Faith, my boy," he replied, "if you really mean it, you can do me -good service; for I don't deny that I am still pretty weak, and I -can't stoop to draw the wine without getting giddy. Here is the key -of the cellar. Take charge of filling and bringing in the jugs. I -hope that Mariton and her scullions can do the rest." - -I didn't need telling twice; I ran out for an instant to tell my -companions of the employment I had taken for the good of the cause, -and then I went to work as tapster, which enabled me to see and hear -everything. - -Joseph and the younger Carnat were at either end of a long table -feasting the guild, each taking the guests half-way down. There was -more noise than pleasure going on. The company were shouting and -singing to avoid talking, for they were all on the defensive, and it -was easy to feel the jealousies and self-interests heaving below. I -soon observed that all the bagpipers were not, as I had feared, in -favor of the Carnats against Joseph; for, no matter how well a guild -is managed, there are always old grudges which set members by the -ears. But I also saw, little by little, that there was no comfort -for Joseph in this, because those who did not want his rival, wanted -him still less, and hoped to get the number of professional bagpipers -lessened by the retirement of old Carnat. I even fancied that the -greater number thought in this way, and I concluded that both -candidates would be rejected. - -After feasting for about two hours, the competition began. Silence -was not demanded; for bagpipes in a room are instruments that don't -trouble themselves about other noises, and the shouters and talkers -soon gave up the contest. A crowd of people pressed in from outside. -My five comrades climbed on the open window sill, and I went and -stood near them. Huriel and his father did not stir from their -corner. Carnat, who drew the lot to begin, mounted the bread-box -and, encouraged by his father, who could not restrain himself from -beating time with his sabots, played for half an hour on the -old-fashioned bagpipe of the country with its narrow wind-bag. - -He played very badly, being much agitated, and I saw that this -pleased the greater part of the bagpipers. They kept silence, as -they always did, so as to seem solemn and important, but others -present kept silence too. This hurt the poor fellow, who had hoped -for a little encouragement, and his father began to growl, and to -show his revengeful and malicious nature. - -When Joseph's turn came, he tore himself away from his mother, who -was still entreating him in a low voice not to compete. He, too, -mounted the box, holding his great Bourbonnaise bagpipe with great -ease, the which quite dazzled the eyes of all present with its silver -ornaments, its bits of looking-glass, and the great length of its -pipes. Joseph carried himself proudly, looking round contemptuously -on those who were to hear him. Everyone noticed his good looks, and -the young fellows about asked if he could really be "José the -dullard," whom they had once thought so stupid, and seen so puny. -But his haughty air disgusted everybody, and as soon as the sound of -his instrument filled the room there was more fear than pleasure in -the curiosity he excited. - -Nevertheless, there were present persons who knew good music, -particularly the choir of the parish church and the hemp-spinners, -who are great judges, and even elderly women, guardians of the good -things of the past; and among such as these Joseph's music was -quickly accepted, as much for the easy manner in which he used his -instrument as for the good taste he displayed and the correct -rendering which he gave to the new and very beautiful airs he played. -A remark being made by the Carnats that his bagpipe, having a fuller -sound, gave him an advantage, he unscrewed it and used only the -chanter, which he played so well that the music was even more -delightful than before. Finally, he took Carnat's old fashioned -bagpipe, and played it so cleverly that any one would have said it -was another instrument than the one first used. - -The judges said nothing; but all others present trembled with -pleasure and applauded vehemently, declaring that nothing so fine had -ever been heard in our parts; and old mother Bline de la Breuille, -who was eighty-seven years old and neither deaf nor dumb, walked up -to the table and rapping it with her distaff said to the bagpipers, -with the freedom her age warranted:-- - -"You may make faces as much as you like and shake your heads, but -there's not one of you can play against that lad; he'll be talked of -two hundred years hence; but all your names will be forgotten before -your carcasses are rotten in the earth." - -Then she left the room, saying (as did all present) that if the -bagpipers rejected Joseph it would be the worst injustice that was -ever done, and the wickedest jealousy that could be confessed. - -The conclave of bagpipers now ascended to an upper room, and I -hurried to open the door, hoping to gather something by overhearing -what they said to each other in going up the stairs. The last to -enter were the Head-Woodsman and his son; as they did so, Père -Carnat, who recognized Huriel from having seen him with us at the -midsummer bonfire, asked what they wanted and by what right they came -to the council. - -"The right of membership in your guild," answered Père Bastien; "and -if you doubt it, ask us the usual questions, or try us with any music -you like." - -On this they were allowed to enter and the door was shut. I tried to -listen, but every one spoke in a low voice, and I could not be sure -of anything, except that they recognized the right of the two -strangers to be present, and that they were deliberating about the -competition without either noise or dispute. Through a crack in the -door I could see that they divided into parties of five or six, -exchanging opinions in a low voice before they began to vote. But -when the time for voting came, one of the bagpipers looked out to see -if any one were listening, and I was forced to disappear in a hurry -lest I should be caught in a position which would put me to shame -without an excuse; for I certainly could not say that my friends were -in danger in such a peaceful conclave. - -I found my young fellows below, sitting at table with others of our -acquaintance, who were toasting and complimenting Joseph. Carnat the -younger was alone and gloomy in a corner,--forgotten and mortified. -The monk was there, too, in the chimney-corner, inquiring of Mariton -and Benoît what was going on. When told all about it he came up to -the long table, where they were drinking with Joseph, and asking him -where and from whom he had got his teaching. - -"Friend Joseph," said he, "we know each other, you and I, and I wish -to add my voice to the applause you are now, of good right, -receiving. But permit me to point out that it is generous as well as -wise to console the vanquished, and that in your place, I should make -friendly advances to young Carnat, whom I see over there all alone -and very sad." - -The monk spoke so as to be heard only by Joseph and a few others who -were near him, and I thought he did so as much out of -kind-heartedness as by instigation of Joseph's mother, who wanted the -Carnats to get over their aversion to her son. - -This appeal to Joseph's generosity flattered his vanity. "You are -right, Brother Nicolas," he said; then, in a loud voice, he called to -young Carnat:-- - -"Come, François, don't sulk at your friends. You did not play as -well as you know how to, I am quite sure. But you shall have your -revenge another time; besides, judgment is not given yet. So, -instead of turning your back on us, come and drink, and let us be as -quiet together as a pair of oxen yoked to a cart." - -Everybody approved of this speech, and Carnat, fearing to seem -jealous, accepted the offer and sat down near him. So far so good, -but Joseph could not keep from showing his opinion that his art was -far above that of others, and in offering civilities to his rival he -put on such a patronizing manner that Carnat was more hurt than ever. - -"You talk as if you were already elected," he said, "and it is no -such thing. It is not always for the skill of the fingers and the -cleverest compositions that those who know what they are about select -a man. Sometimes they choose him for being the best-known and most -respected player in the country, for that makes him a good comrade to -the rest of the guild." - -"Oh! I expect that," returned Joseph. "I have been long absent, and -though I pique myself on deserving as much respect as any man, yet I -know they will try to fall back on the foolish reason that I am -little known. Well, I don't care for that, François! I did not -expect to find a company of good musicians among you, capable of -judging me or my merits, and lovers enough of true knowledge to -prefer my talent to their own interests and that of their -acquaintances. All that I wanted was to be heard and judged by my -mother and friends,--by intelligent ears and reasonable beings. For -the rest, I laugh at your screaming and bellowing bagpipes, and I -must say, God forgive me! that I shall be prouder of being rejected -than accepted." - -The monk remarked gently that he was not speaking judiciously. "You -should not challenge the judges you demanded of your own free-will," -he said; "pride spoils the highest merit." - -"Leave him his pride," said Carnat; "I am not jealous of what he can -show. He ought to have some talent, to cover his other misfortunes. -Remember the old saying: 'Good player, good dupe.'" - -"What do you mean by that?" said Joseph, setting down his glass and -looking the other in the eye. - -"I am not obliged to tell you," said Carnat; "all the others -understand it." - -"But I don't understand it, and as you are speaking to me I'll call -you a coward if you dare not explain yourself." - -"Oh, I can tell you to your face," returned Carnat; "it is something -that need not offend you at all, for perhaps it is no more your fault -to be unlucky in love than it is mine to be unlucky to-night in -music." - -"Come, come!" said one of the young men who were present; "let -_Josette_ alone. She has found some one to marry her, and that's -enough; it is nobody's business." - -"It is my opinion," said another, "that it was not Joseph who was -tricked in that affair, but the other who is going to shoulder his -work." - -"Whom are you speaking of?" cried Joseph, as if his head were -reeling. "Who is it you call _Josette_? What wicked nonsense are -you trying on me?" - -"Hold your tongues!" cried Mariton, turning scarlet with anger and -grief, as she always did when Brulette was attacked. "I wish your -wicked tongues were torn out and nailed to the church door." - -"Speak lower," said one of the young men; "you know that Mariton -won't allow a word against her José's fair friend. All beauties -uphold each other, and Mariton is not yet so old but what she has a -voice in the chapter." - -Joseph was puzzling his brains to know whether they were blaming or -ridiculing him. - -"Explain it to me," he said, pulling me by the arm. "Don't leave me -without a word to say." - -I was just going to meddle, though I had vowed I wouldn't get into -any dispute in which Père Bastien and his son were not concerned, -when François Carnat cut me short. "Nonsense!" he said to Joseph, -with a sneer; "Tiennet can't tell you more than what I wrote you." - -"That is what you are talking of, is it?" said Joseph. "Well, I -swear you lie! and that you have written and signed false witness. -Never--" - -"Bravo!" cried Carnat. "You knew how to make your profit out of my -letter! and if, as people think, you are the author of that child, -you have not been such a fool, after all, in getting rid of your -property to a friend,--a faithful friend, too, for there he is -upstairs, looking after your interests in the council. But if, as I -now think, you came into these parts to assert your right to the -child, which was refused, that accounts for a queer scene which I saw -from a distance at the castle of Chassin--" - -"What scene?" said the monk. "Let me tell you, young man, that I too -may have witnessed it, and I want to know how truly you relate the -things that you see." - -"As you please," returned Carnat. "I will tell you what I saw with -my own eyes, without hearing a word that was said; and you may -explain it as you can. You are to know, the rest of you, that on the -last day of last month Joseph got up early in the morning to hang his -May bunch on Brulette's door; and seeing a baby about two years old, -which of course was his, he wanted no doubt to get possession of it, -for he seized it, as if to go off with it; and then began a sharp -dispute, in which his friend the Bourbonnais wood-cutter (the same -that is upstairs now with his father, and who is to marry Brulette -next Sunday) struck him violently and then embraced the mother and -child; after which Joseph was gently shoved out of the door and did -not show his face there again. I call that one of the queerest -histories I ever knew. Twist it as you will, it still remains the -tale of a child claimed by two fathers, and of a girl who, instead of -giving herself to the first seducer, kicks him away as unworthy or -incapable of bringing up the child of their loves." - -Instead of answering, as he had proposed to do, Brother Nicolas -returned to the chimney, and talked in a low voice, but very eagerly, -with Benoît. Joseph was so taken aback at the interpretation put -upon a matter of which, after all, he did not know the real meaning, -that he looked all round him for assistance, and as Mariton had -rushed from the room like a crazy woman, there was no one but me to -put down Carnat. The latter's speech had created some astonishment, -but no one thought of defending Brulette, against whom they still -felt piqued. I began to take her part; but Carnat interrupted me at -the first word:-- - -"Oh! as for you," he said, "no one accuses you. I dare say you -played your part in good faith, though it is known that you were used -to deceive people by bringing the child from the Bourbonnais. But -you are so simple, Tiennet, you may never have suspected -anything.--The devil take me!" he continued, addressing the company, -"if that fellow isn't as stupid as a basket. He is capable of being -godfather to a child believing all the while they were christening a -clock. He probably went into the Bourbonnais to fetch this godson of -his, who, they told him, was found in a cabbage, and he brought it -back in a pilgrim's sack. In fact he is such a slave and good cousin -to the girl, that if she had tried to make him believe the boy was -like him he would have thought so too." - - - - -THIRTIETH EVENING. - -There was no use in protesting and getting angry; the company were -more inclined to laugh than to listen, for it is always a great -delight to misbehaving fellows to speak ill of a poor girl. They -make haste to plunge her in the mire, reserving the right to deny it -if they find she is innocent. - -In the midst of their slanderous speeches, however, a loud voice, -slightly weakened by illness but still capable of drowning every -other in the room, made itself heard. It was that of the master of -the tavern, long accustomed to quell the dissensions of wine and the -hubbub of junketing. - -"Hold your tongues," he said, "and listen to me, or I'll turn you out -this moment, if I never open the house again. Be silent about an -honest girl whom you decry because you have all found her too -virtuous. As to the real parents of the child who has given rise to -these tales, tell them to their face what fault you find with them, -for here they are before you. Yes," he continued, drawing Mariton, -who was holding Charlot in her arms and weeping, up to him, "here is -the mother of my heir, and this is my son whom I recognize by my -marriage to this good woman. If you ask me for exact dates, I shall -tell you to mind your own business; nevertheless, to any who have the -right to question me, I will show deeds which prove that I have -always recognized the child as mine, and that his mother was my -legitimate wife before his birth, though the matter was kept secret." - -The silence of astonishment fell on everybody; and Joseph, who had -risen at the first words, stood stock still like a stone image. The -monk who noticed the doubt, shame, and anger in his eyes, thought -best to add further explanations. He told us that Benoît had been -unable to make his marriage public because of the opposition of a -rich relative, who had lent him money for his business, and who might -have ruined him by demanding it back. As Mariton feared for her -reputation, specially on account of her son Joseph, they had -concealed Charlot's birth and had put him to nurse at Saint-Sevère; -but, at the end of a year Mariton had found him so ill-used that she -begged Brulette to take charge of him, thinking that no one else -would give him as much care. She had not foreseen the harm this -would do to the young girl, and when she did find it out, she wished -to remove the child, but Benoît's illness had prevented her doing so, -and moreover Brulette had become so attached to Charlot that she -would not part with him. - -"Yes!" cried Mariton, "poor dear soul that she is, she proved her -courage for me. 'You will have trouble enough,' she said to me, 'if -you lose your husband; and, perhaps your marriage will be questioned -by the family. He is too ill to trouble him now about declaring it. -Have patience; don't kill him by talking of your affairs. Everything -will come right if God grant that he recovers.'" - -"And if I have recovered," added Benoît, "it is by the care of this -good woman, my wife, and the kindheartedness of the young girl in -question, who patiently endured both blame and insult rather than -cause me injury at that time by exposing our secrets. And here is -another faithful friend," he added, pointing to the monk,--"a man of -sense, of action, and of honest speech, an old school friend of mine -in the days when I was educating at Montluçon. He it was who went -after my old devil of an uncle, and who at last, no later than this -morning, persuaded him to consent to my marriage with my good -housekeeper; and when my uncle had given his word to make me heir to -his whole property, Brother Nicolas told him the priest had already -joined Mariton and me, and showed him that fat Charlot, whom he -thought a fine boy and very like the author of his existence." - -Benoît's satisfaction revived the lost gayety of the party; every one -was struck with the resemblance, which, however, no one had yet -noticed,--I as little as any. - -"So, Joseph," continued the innkeeper, "you can and ought to love and -respect your mother, just as I love and respect her. I take my oath -here and now that she is the bravest and most helpful Christian woman -that ever a sick man had about him; and I have never had a moment's -hesitation in my resolve to declare sooner or later what I have -declared to-day. We are now very well off in our worldly affairs, -thank God, and as I swore to her and to God that I would replace the -father you lost, I will agree, if you will live here with us, to take -you into partnership and to give you a good share of the profits.' So -you needn't fling yourself into bagpiping, in which your mother sees -all sorts of ills for you and anxieties for her. Your notion was to -get her a home. That's my affair now, and I even offer to make hers -yours. Come, you'll listen to us, won't you, and give up that damned -music? Why can't you live in your own country and stay at home? You -needn't blush at having an honest innkeeper for a step-father." - -"You are my step-father, that's very certain," replied Joseph, not -showing either pleasure or displeasure, but remaining coldly on the -defensive; "you are an honest man, I know, and rich, I see, and if my -mother is happy with you--" - -"Yes, yes, Joseph, as happy as possible; above all to-day," cried -Mariton, kissing him, "for I hope you will never leave me again." - -"You are mistaken, mother," answered Joseph; "you no longer have any -need of me, and you are contented. All is well. You were the only -thing that brought me back into this part of the country; you were -all I had to love, for Brulette--and it is well that all present -should hear this from my own mouth--for Brulette never had any -feeling but that of a sister for me. Now I am free to follow my -destiny; which is not a very kindly one, but it is so plainly mine -that I prefer it to all the money of innkeeping and the comfort of -family life. Farewell, mother, God bless those who make you happy; -as for me, I want nothing in these parts, not even admission to the -guild which evil-intentioned fools are trying to deny me. My inward -thoughts and my bagpipe go with me wherever I am; and I know I can -always earn my living, for wherever my music is heard I shall be -welcome." - -As he spoke the door to the staircase opened and the whole company of -bagpipers entered in silence. Père Carnat requested the attention of -those present, and in a firm and cheerful manner, which surprised -everybody, he said:-- - -"François Carnat, my son, after careful examination of your merits -and full discussion of your rights, you are declared too much of a -novice for present admission. You are advised to study a while -longer, without discouragement, so as to present yourself for -competition later when circumstances may be more favorable. And you, -Joseph Picot, of the village of Nohant, the decision of the masters -of this part of the country is that you be, by reason of your -unparalleled talents, received into the first class of the guild; and -this decision is unanimous." - -"Well," replied Joseph, who seemed wholly indifferent to his victory -and to the applause with which it was received, "as the matter has -turned out this way, I accept the decision, although, not expecting -it, I hardly care for it." - -Joseph's haughty manner displeased everybody, and Père Carnat -hastened to sav, with an air which I thought showed disguised -malignity: "Does that mean, Joseph, that you wish for the honor and -the title, and do not intend to take your place among the -professional bagpipers in these parts?" - -"I don't know yet," said Joseph, evidently by way of bravado, and not -wishing to satisfy his judges. "I'll think about it." - -"I believe," said young Carnat to his father, "that he has thought -about it already, and his decision is made, for he hasn't the courage -to go on with the matter." - -"Courage?" cried Joseph, "courage for what, if you please?" - -Then the dean of the bagpipers, old Paillou of Verneuil, said to -Joseph:-- - -"You are surely not ignorant, young man, that something more than -playing an instrument is required, to be received into our guild; -there is such a thing as a musical catechism, which you must know and -on which you will be questioned, if you feel you have the knowledge -and also the boldness to answer. Moreover, there are certain oaths -to be taken. If you feel no repugnance to these things, you must -decide at once to submit to them, so that the matter may be settled -to-morrow morning." - -"I understand you," said Joseph. "The guild has secret oaths, and -tests and trials. They are all great folly, as far as I know, and -music has no part in them, for I defy you to reply to any musical -question which I might put to you. Consequently, the questions you -address to me on a subject you know less about than the frogs in the -pond, are no better than old women's gabble." - -"If you take it that way," said Renet, the Mers bagpiper, "we are -willing you should think yourself a great genius and the rest of us -jackasses. So be it. Keep your secrets, and we will keep ours. We -are not anxious to tell them to those who despise us. But remember -one thing: here is your certificate as a master bagpiper, which we -now hand to you, signed and sealed by all, including your friends the -Bourbonnais bagpipers, who agree that all is done in good order. You -are free to exercise your talents where you please and where you can; -except in the parishes where we play and which number one hundred and -fifty, according to the distribution we make among ourselves, the -list of which will be handed to you; in those parishes you are -forbidden to play. We give notice that if you break this rule it -will be at your own risk and peril, for we shall put a stop to it, if -need be, by main force." - -Here Mariton spoke up. - -"You needn't threaten him," she said, "it is safe to leave him to his -own fancy, which is to play his music and look for no profit. He has -no need to do that, thank God, and besides, his lungs are not strong -enough for your business. Come, Joseph, thank them for the honor -have done you, and don't keep them anxious about their interests. -Let the matter be settled now, and here's my man who will pay the -pipers with a good quartern of Sancerre or Issoudun wine, at the -choice of the company." - -"That's all right," said old Carnat. "We are quite willing the -matter should end thus. It is best, no doubt, for your son; for one -needn't be either a fool or a coward to shrink from the tests, and I -do think the poor fellow is not cut out to endure them." - -"We will see about that!" cried Joseph, falling into the trap that -was set for him, in spite of the warnings Père Bastien was giving him -in a low voice. "I demand the tests; and as you have no right to -refuse them after delivering to me the certificate, I intend to -practise your calling if I choose, or, at any rate, to prove that I -am not prevented from doing so by any of you." - -"Agreed!" said the dean, showing plainly, as did Carnat and several -others, the malignant pleasure Joseph's words afforded them. "We -will now prepare for your initiation, friend Joseph. Remember there -is no going back, and that you will be considered a milk-sop or a -braggart if you change your mind." - -"Go on, go on!" cried Joseph. "I'll await you on a firm foot." - -"It is for us to await you," said old Carnat in his ear, "at the -stroke of midnight." - -"Where?" said Joseph, coolly. - -"At the gate of the cemetery," replied the dean, in a low voice. -Then, without accepting the wine which Benoît offered them, or giving -heed to the remonstrances of his wife, they went off in a body, -threatening evil to all who followed them or spied upon their -mysteries. - -The Head-Woodsman and Huriel went with them without a word to Joseph, -by which I plainly saw that, although the pair were opposed to the -spirit of the other bagpipers, they thought it none the less their -duty not to warn Joseph, nor to betray in the slightest degree the -secrets of the guild. - -In spite of the threats which were made, I was not deterred from -following them at a distance, without other precaution than -carelessly sauntering down the same road, with my hands in my -pockets, and whistling as if I were paying no attention to them or -their affairs. I knew they would not let me get near enough to -overhear their plots, but I wanted to make sure in what direction -they meant to lie in wait, so as to get there later, if possible, -unobserved. With that notion in my head, I signed to Leonard to keep -the others at the tavern until I returned to call them. But my -pursuit was soon ended. The inn stood on a street which ran -down-hill to the river, and is now the mail route to Issoudun. In -those days it was a breakneck little place, narrow and ill-paved, -lined with old houses with pointed gables and stone mullions. The -last of these houses was pulled down a year ago. From the river, -which ran along the wall below the inn of the Bœuf Couronné, a -steep ascent led to the market-place, which was then, as it is now, -that long unevenly paved space, planted with trees, bordered on the -left by old houses, on the right by the broad moat, full of water, -and the great wall (then unbroken) of the castle. The church closes -the market-place at the further end, and two alleys lead down from -it, one to the parsonage, the other past the cemetery. The bagpipers -turned down the latter path. They were about a gunshot in advance of -me, that is to say, just time enough to pass along the path by the -cemetery and out into the open country by the postern of the English -tower, unless they chose to stop at this particular spot; which was -not very convenient, for the path--which ran between the moat of the -castle on one side and the bank of the cemetery on the other--was -only wide enough for one person at a time. - -When I judged that the bagpipers must have reached the postern, I -turned the corner of the castle under an arcade which in those days -was used as a footpath by the gentry on their way to the parish -church. I found I was all alone when I entered the path by the -churchyard, a place few Christian men would set foot in alone after -nightfall,--not only because it led past the cemetery, but because -the north flank of the castle had a bad name. There was talk of I -don't know how many persons drowned in the moat in the days of the -English war; and some folks swore they had heard the cocadrillos -whistle on that particular path when epidemics were about. - -You know of course that the cocadrillo is a sort of lizard, which -sometimes seems no bigger than your little finger, and sometimes -swells to the size of an ox and grows five or six yards long. This -beast, which I have never seen, and whose existence I couldn't -warrant, is supposed to vomit a venom which poisons the air and -brings the plague. Now, though I did not believe much of this, I was -not over-fond of going along this path, where the high wall of the -castle and the tall trees of the cemetery shut out every speck of -light. On this occasion I walked fast, without looking to the right -or left, and passed through the postern of the English gate, of -which, by the bye, not one stone upon another remains to the present -day. - -Once there, and notwithstanding that the night was fine and the moon -clear, I could not see, either far or near, the slightest trace of -the eighteen persons I was after. I looked in every direction; I -even went as far as Père Begneux's cottage, the only house they could -have entered. The occupants were all asleep, and nowhere about was -there any noise, or trace, or sign, of a living person. I therefore -concluded that the missing bagpipers had entered the cemetery to -perform some wicked conjuring, and--though far from liking to do so, -but determined to risk all for Thérence's relations--I returned -through the postern and along the accursed path, stepping softly, -skirting the bank so close that I touched the tombstones, and keeping -my ears open to the slightest sound. I heard the screech-owl hooting -in the casemates, and the adders hissing in the black water of the -moat, but that was all. The dead slept in the ground as tranquilly -as the living in their beds. I plucked up courage to climb over the -cemetery bank and to give a glance round the field of death. All was -quiet,--no signs whatever of the bagpipers. - -Then I walked all round the castle. It was locked up, and as it was -after ten o'clock masters and servants slept like stones. - -Then I returned to the inn, not being able to imagine what had become -of the guild, but determined to station my comrades in the path -leading to the English gate, from which we could see what happened to -Joseph when he reached the rendezvous at midnight at the gate of the -cemetery. I found them on the bridge debating whether or not they -should start for home, and declaring they could see no danger to the -Huriels, because it was evident they had agreed amicably with the -other bagpipers in the matter of the competition. As for what -concerned Joseph, they cared little or nothing, and tried to prevent -me from interfering. I told them that to my thinking the danger for -all three would be when the tests were applied, for the evil -intentions of the bagpipers had been plainly shown, and the Huriels, -I knew, were there to protect Joseph. - -"Are you already sick of the enterprise?" I said. "Is it because we -are only eight to sixteen, and you haven't a heart for two inside of -you?" - -"How do you count eight?" asked Leonard. "Do you think the -Head-Woodsman and his son would go with us against their -fellow-members?" - -"I did count wrong;" I answered; "for we are really nine. Joseph -won't let himself be fleeced if they make it too hot for him, and as -both the Huriels carry arms, I feel quite sure they mean to defend -him if they can't be heard otherwise." - -"That's not the point," returned Leonard. "We are only six, and they -are twenty; but there's another thing which pleases us even less than -a fight. People have been talking in the inn, and each had a story -to relate of these tests. The monk denounced them as impious and -abominable; and though Joseph laughed at what was said, we don't feel -certain there is nothing in it. They told of candidates nailed on a -bier, and furnaces into which they were tripped, and red-hot iron -crosses which they were made to clasp. Such things seem hard to -believe; and if I were certain that that was all I'd like to punish -the fellows who are bad enough to ill-treat a neighbor in that way. -Unfortunately--" - -"There, there!" said I, "I see you have let yourself be scared. What -is behind it all? Tell the whole, and let's either laugh at it or -take warning." - -"This is it," said one of the lads, seeing that Leonard was ashamed -to own his fears. "None of us have ever seen the devil, and we don't -want to make his acquaintance." - -"Ho, ho!" I cried, seeing that they were all relieved, now the words -were out. "So it is Lucifer himself that frightens you! Well, I'm -too good a Christian to be afraid of him; I give my soul to God, and -I'll be bound I'll take him by the horns, yes I myself, alone against -the enemy of mankind, as fearlessly as I would take a goat by the -beard. He has been allowed to do evil to those who fear him long -enough, and it is my opinion that an honest fellow who dared to -wrench off his horns could deprive him of half his power, and that -would be something gained at any rate." - -"Faith!" said Leonard, ashamed of his fears, "if you look at it that -way I won't back down, and if you'll smash his horns I'll try to pull -out his tail. They say it is fine, and we'll find out if it is gold -or hemp." - -There is no such remedy against fear as fun, but I don't deny that -though I took the matter on that tone, I was not at all anxious to -pit myself against "Georgeon," as we call the devil in our parts. I -wasn't a bit more easy in mind than the rest, but for Thérence's sake -I felt ready to march into the jaws of hell. I had promised her, and -the good God himself couldn't have turned me back now. - -But that's an ill way to talk. The good God, on the contrary, gave -me strength and confidence, and the more anxiety I felt all that -night, the more I thought on him and asked his aid. - -When our other comrades saw that our minds, Leonard's and mine, were -made up, they followed us. To make the affair safer, I went back to -the inn to see if I could find other friends who, without knowing -what we were after, would follow us for fun, and, if occasion came, -would fight with us. But it was late, and there was no one at the -Bœuf Couronné but Benoît, who was supping with the monk, Mariton, -who was saying her prayers, and Joseph, who had thrown himself on a -bed and was sound asleep with, I must own, a tranquillity that put us -to shame. - -"I have only one hope," said Mariton, as she got off her knees; "and -that is that he will sleep over the time and not wake up till -morning." - -"That's just like all women!" cried Benoît, laughing, "they want life -at the price of shame. But I gave my word to her lad to wake him -before midnight, and I shall not fail to do so." - -"Ah, you don't love him!" cried the mother. "We'll see if you push -our Charlot into danger when his turn comes." - -"You don't know what you are talking about, wife," replied the -innkeeper; "go to bed and to sleep with my boy; I promise you I'll -not fail to wake yours. You would not wish him to blame me for his -dishonor?" - -"Besides," said the monk, "what danger do you suppose there is in the -nonsense they are going to perform? I tell you you are dreaming, my -good woman. The devil doesn't get hold of anybody; God doesn't allow -it, and you have not brought your boy up so ill that you need fear -that he will get himself damned for his music. I tell you that the -villanous tests of the bagpipers are really nothing worse than -impious jokes, from which sensible people can easily protect -themselves; and Joseph need only laugh at the demons they will set -upon him, to put them all to flight." - -The monk's words heartened up my comrades wonderfully. - -"If it is only a farce," they said to me, "we will tumble into the -middle of it and thrash the devil well; but hadn't we better take -Benoît into our confidence? He might help us." - -"To tell you the truth," I said, "I am not sure that he would. He is -thought a worthy man; but you never know the secrets of a family, -especially when there are children by a first marriage. Step-fathers -don't always like them, and Joseph has been none too amiable this -evening with his. Let's get off without a word to anyone; that's -best, and it is nearly time we were there." - -Taking the road past the church, walking softly and in single file, -we posted ourselves in the little path near the English gate. The -moon was so low we could creep in the shadow of the cemetery bank and -not be seen, even if any one passed quite close to us. My comrades, -being strangers, had no such repugnance to the place as the -villagers, and I let them go in front while I hid within the -cemetery, near enough to the gate to see who entered, and also near -enough to call to them when wanted. - - - - -THIRTY-FIRST EVENING. - -I waited a good long time,--all the longer because the hours go so -slow in company with dead folks. At last midnight struck in the -church steeple and I saw the head of a man rising beyond the low wall -of the cemetery quite near the gate. Another quarter of an hour -dragged along without my seeing or hearing anything but that man, -who, getting tired of waiting, began to whistle a Bourbonnais tune, -whereby I knew it was Joseph, who no doubt betrayed the hopes of his -enemies by seeming so cool in presence of the dead. - -At last, another man, who was stuck close to the wall inside the -gate, and whom I hadn't seen on account of the big box-trees which -hid him, popped his head quickly over the wall as if to take Joseph -by surprise; but the latter did not stir, and said, laughing: "Well, -Père Carnat, you are rather late; I came near going to sleep while -waiting. Will you open the gate, or must I enter that -'nettle-field,' by the breach?" - -"No," said Carnat, "the curate would not like it; we mustn't openly -offend the church people. I will go to you." - -He climbed over the wall and told Joseph he must let his head and -arms be covered with a very thick canvas sack, and then walk wherever -he was led. - -"Very good," said Joseph in a contemptuous tone. "Go on." - -I watched them from over the wall, and saw them enter the little path -to the English gate; then I made a short cut to the place where I had -left my comrades and found only four of them; the youngest had -slipped off without a word, and I was rather afraid the others would -do the same, for they found the time long and told me they had heard -very queer noises, which seemed to come from under the earth. - -Presently Joseph came along, with his head covered and led by Carnat. -The pair got close upon us, but turned from the path about twenty -feet off. Carnat made Joseph clamber down to the edge of the moat, -and we thought he meant to drown him. At once we were on our legs to -stop such treachery, but in a minute more we saw they were both -walking in the water, which was shallow at that place, until they -reached a low archway in the wall of the castle which was partly in -the water of the moat. They passed through it, and this explained to -me what had become of the others whom I had hunted for. - -It was necessary to do as they did; which didn't seem to me very -difficult, but my comrades were hard to persuade. They had heard -that the vaults of the castle ran nine miles out into the country, as -far as Deols, and that persons who did not know their windings had -been lost in them. I was forced to declare that I knew them very -well, though I had never set foot there in my life, and had no idea -whether they were common wine-cellars or a subterraneous town, as my -friends declared. - -I walked first, without seeing where I set my feet, feeling the -walls, which inclosed a narrow passage where one's head very nearly -touched the roof. We advanced in this way for a short time, when a -hullaballoo sounded beneath us like forty thunder-claps rolling round -the devil's cave. It was so strange and alarming that I stopped -short to try and find out what it meant; then I went quickly forward, -not to let myself get chilled with the idea of some devil's caper, -telling my companions to follow me. But the noise was so loud they -did not hear me and I, thinking they were at my heels, went on and -on, till, hearing nothing more, I turned to speak to them and got no -answer. Not wishing to call aloud, I went back four or five steps; -it was all dark. I stretched out my hands, and called cautiously; -good-bye to my valiant contingent,--they had deserted me! - -I thought I must be pretty near the entrance and could surely catch -up with them within or without. I returned through the arch by which -we had entered, and searched carefully along the little path beside -the cemetery; but no! my comrades had disappeared just like the -bagpipers; it seemed as if the earth had opened and swallowed them up. - -I had a moment of horrid worry, thinking I must either give up the -whole thing or return to those devilish caverns and take myself all -alone into the traps and terrors they were preparing for Joseph. But -I asked myself whether, even if the matter concerned only him, I -could quietly leave him in danger. My soul answered no, and then I -asked my heart if love for Thérence wasn't quite as real a thing as -one's duty to one's neighbor, and the answer I received sent me back -through the dark and slimy archway and along the subterranean -passages--I won't say as gayly, but at any rate as quickly as if I -were going to my own wedding. - -While I was feeling my way forward I found, on my right, an opening -to another passage, which I had not found before because I then felt -to my left; and I thought to myself that my comrades in going out had -probably found it and turned that way. I followed the passage, for -there was no sign that the other way would bring me any nearer to the -bagpipers. I did not find my comrades, but as for the bagpipers, I -had not taken twenty steps before I heard their din much nearer than -it sounded the first time; and presently a quivering kind of light -let me see that I was entering a large round cave which had three or -four exits, black as the jaws of hell. - -I was surprised to see so clearly in a vault where there wasn't any -light, but I presently noticed that gleams were coming from below -through the ground I trod upon. I noticed that this ground seemed to -swell up in the middle, and fearing it was not solid, I kept close to -the wall, and getting near to a crevice, I lay down with my eye close -to it and saw very plainly what was going on in another cavern just -below the one I was in. It was, as I afterwards learned, a former -dungeon, adjoining an oubliette or black hole, the mouth of which -could still be seen thirty years ago in the upper hall of the castle. -I thought as much when I saw the remains of human bones at the lower -end of the cave, which the bagpipers had set up in rows to terrify -the candidate, with pine torches inside their skulls. Joseph was -there all alone, his eyes unbound, his arms crossed, just as cool as -I was not, listened contemptuously to the uproar of eighteen -bagpipes, which all brayed together, prolonging a single note into a -roar. This crazy music came from an adjoining cave where the -bagpipers were hidden, and where, as they doubtless knew, a curious -echo multiplied the sound. I, who knew nothing about it then, -fancied at first that all the bagpipes of Berry, Auvergne, and the -Bourbonnais were collected together in that cave. - -When they had had enough of growling with their instruments, they -began to squeal and squall themselves, and the walls echoed them, -till you would have fancied they were a great troop of furious -animals of all kinds. But Joseph, who was really an unusual kind of -man among our peasantry,--indeed, I hardly ever knew his -like,--merely shrugged his shoulders and yawned, as if tired with -such fool's play. His courage passed into me, and I began to think -of laughing at the farce, when a little noise at my back made me turn -my head. There I saw, at the entrance of the passage by which I had -come, a figure which froze my senses. - -It was that of a lord of the olden time, carrying a lance and wearing -an iron breastplate and leathern garments of a style no longer seen. -But the most awful part of him was his face, which was actually like -a death's head. - -I partly recovered myself, thinking it was only a disguise some of -the enemy had put on to frighten Joseph; but on reflection I saw the -danger was really mine, because, finding me on the watch, he would -surely do me some damage. However, though he saw me as plain as I -could see him, he did not stir, but remained stock-still like a -ghost, half in shadow, and half in the light that came up from below; -and as this light flickered according as it was moved about, there -were moments when, not seeing him, I thought he was a notion of my -own brain,--until suddenly he would reappear, all but his legs, which -remained in darkness behind a sort of step or barrier, which made me -fancy he was as it were floating on a cloud. - -I don't know how long I was tortured with this vision, which made me -forget to watch Joseph, and scared me lest I was going mad in trying -to do more than it was in me to perform. I recollected that I had -seen in the hall of the castle an old picture which they said was the -portrait of a wicked warrior whom a lord of the castle in the olden -time, who was the warrior's brother, had flung into the dungeon. The -garments of leather and iron which I saw before me on that skeleton -figure, were certainly like those in the picture, and the notion came -into my head that here was a ghost in pain, watching the desecration -of his sepulchre, and waiting to show his displeasure in some way or -other. - -What made this idea the more probable was that the ghost said nothing -to me, and evidently took no notice of my presence,--apparently aware -that I had no evil intentions against his poor carcass. - -At last a noise different from all others attracted my eyes away from -him. I looked back into the cave below me, where stood Joseph, and -something near him very ugly and very strange. - -Joseph stood boldly in front of an abominable creature, dressed in -the skin of a dog, with horns sticking out of his tangled hair, and a -red face, and claws and tail; the which beast was jumping about and -making faces like one possessed of the devil. It was vile to see, -and yet I wasn't the dupe of it very long, for though the creature -tried to disguise his voice I thought I recognized that of -Doré-Fratin, the bagpiper of Pouligny, one of the strongest and most -quarrelsome men in our neighborhood. - -"You may sneer as you please," he was saying to Joseph, "at me and at -hell, but I am the king of all musicians, and you shall not play your -instrument without my permission unless you sell me your soul." - -Joseph answered, "What can such a fool of a devil as you do with the -soul of a musician? You have no use for it." - -"Mind what you say," returned the other. "Don't you know that down -here you must either give yourself to the devil or prove that you are -stronger than he?" - -"Yes, yes, I know the proverb," said Joseph: "'Kill the devil or the -devil will kill you.'" - -As he spoke, I saw Huriel and his father come from a dark opening -into the vault and go up to the devil as if to speak to him; but they -were pulled back by the other bagpipers who now showed themselves, -and Carnat the elder addressed Joseph. - -"You have proved," he said, "that you don't fear witchcraft, and we -will let you go free if you will now conform to the usual custom, -which is to fight the devil, in proof that you, a Christian man, -refuse to submit to him." - -"If the devil wants to be well thrashed," replied Joseph, "let me go -at him at once, and we'll see if his skin is any tougher than mine. -What weapons?" - -"None but your fists," replied Carnat. - -"It is fair play, I hope," said the Head-Woodsman. - -Joseph took no time to inquire; his temper was up. Enraged by the -tricks that were played on him, he sprang on the devil, tore off his -horns and head-dress, and caught him so resolutely round the body -that he brought him to earth and fell on top of him. - -But he instantly got up, and I fancied he gave a cry of surprise and -pain; but the bagpipers all began to play, except Huriel and his -father, who stood watching the encounter with an expression of doubt -and uneasiness. - -Joseph, meantime, was tumbling the devil about and seeming to get the -better of him; but his rage seemed to me unnatural, and I feared he -might put himself in the wrong through too much violence. The -bagpipers seemed to help him, for instead of rescuing their comrade, -who was knocked down three times, they marched round and round the -fight, piping loudly, and beating with their feet to excite him. - -Suddenly the Head-Woodsman separated the combatants by levelling a -blow with his stick on the devil's paws, and threatening to strike -harder the second time if he was not listened to. Huriel ran to his -father's side, raising his stick also, while all the others stopped -walking round and round and piping; and a moment's silence and -stillness fell on all. - -Then I saw that Joseph, overcome with pain, was wiping his torn hands -and his face, which was covered with blood, and that he would have -fainted if Huriel had not caught him in his arms, while Doré-Fratin -merely threw aside his trappings, panting with heat, and wiping the -sweat from his forehead with a grin. - -"What does this mean?" cried Carnat, coming up to the Plead-Woodsman -with a threatening air, "Are you a traitor to the guild? By what -right do you interfere with the tests?" - -"I interfere at my own risk and to your shame," replied the -Head-Woodsman. "I am not a traitor, and you are evil-doers, both -treacherous and cruel. I suspected that you were tricking us to lead -this young man here and wound him, perhaps dangerously. You hate him -because you know that every one will prefer him to you, and that -wherever he is heard no one will listen to your music. You have not -dared to refuse him admission to the guild, because the whole country -would blame you for such a crying injustice; but you are trying to -frighten him from playing in the parishes you have taken possession -of, and you have put him through hard and dangerous tests which none -of you could have borne as long as he." - -"I don't know what you mean," said the old dean, Pailloux de -Verneuil; "and the blame you cast upon us here, in presence of a -candidate, is unheard-of insolence. We don't know how you practise -initiation in your part of the country, but here we are following our -customs and shall not allow you to interfere." - -"I shall interfere," said Huriel, who was sopping Joseph's blood with -his handkerchief, and had brought him back to consciousness, as he -held him on his knee. "I neither can nor will tell of your conduct -away from here, because I belong to the brotherhood, but at least I -will tell you to your faces that you are brutes. In our country we -fight with the devil in jest, taking care to do no one any harm. -Here you choose the strongest among you and furnish him with hidden -weapons, with which he endeavors to put out the eyes and stab the -veins of your victims. See! this young man is exhausted, and in the -rage which your wickedness excited in him, he would have let you kill -him if we had not stopped the fight. And then what would you have -done? You would have flung his body into that vault, where so many -other unfortunates have perished, whose bones ought to rise and -condemn you for being as cruel as your former lords." - -These words reminded me of the apparition I had forgotten, and I -turned round to see if it was still there. I could not see it, and -then I bethought me of finding my way to the lower cave, where, as I -began to think, I might be useful to my friends. I found the -stairway at once and went down to the entrance of the vault, not -trying to conceal myself, for such disputing and confusion were going -on that no one paid any attention to me. - -The Head-Woodsman had picked up the devil's skin-coat and showed that -it was covered with spikes like a comb for currying oxen; and also -the mittens which the sham devil wore on his hands, in which strong -nails were fastened with the points outside. The bagpipers were -furious. "Here's a pretty fuss about a few scratches," cried Carnat. -"Isn't it in the order of things that a devil should have claws? And -this young fool, who attacked him so imprudently, why didn't he know -how far he could play at that game without getting his snout scraped? -Come, come, don't pity him so much; it's a mere nothing; and since he -has had enough of it, let him confess he can't play at our games, and -is not fit to belong to our guild in any way." - -"I shall belong to it!" cried Joseph, wrenching himself from Huriel's -arms and showing as he did so his torn shirt and bleeding breast. "I -shall belong to it in spite of you! I insist that the fight shall go -on, and one of us be left in this cavern." - -"I forbid it!" said the Head-Woodsman, "and I insist that this young -man shall be proclaimed victor, or I swear to bring into this place a -company of bagpipers who shall teach you how to behave, and who will -see justice done." - -"You?" said Doré-Fratin, drawing a sort of boar-knife from his belt. -"You can do so if you choose, but you shall carry with you some marks -on your body, so that people may believe your reports." - -The Head-Woodsman and Huriel put themselves in an attitude of -defence. Joseph flung himself upon Fratin to get away his knife, and -I made one bound in amongst them. But before any of us could strike -a blow the figure that startled me so in the upper cavern appeared at -the opening of the lower one, stretched forth his lance, and slowly -advanced in a way to strike terror to the minds of the evil-doers. -Then, as they all paused, dumbfounded with fear and amazement, a -piteous voice was heard from the depths of the dungeon, reciting the -prayers for the dead. - -This routed the whole brotherhood. One of the pipers cried out: "The -dead! the dead are rising!" and they all fled, pell-mell, yelling and -pushing through the various openings except that to the dungeon, -where stood another figure wrapped in a winding-sheet, chanting the -most dismal sing-song that anybody ever heard. A minute later all -our enemies had disappeared, and the warrior flinging off his helmet -and mask, we beheld the jovial face of Benoît, while the monk, -getting out of his winding sheet, was holding his sides in -convulsions of laughter. - -"May God forgive me for masquerading," he said. "I did it with the -best intentions; those rascals deserve a good lesson, if it is only -to teach them not to laugh at the devil, of whom they are really more -afraid than those whom they threaten with him." - -"For my part, I felt quite certain," said Benoît, "that our comedy -would put an end to theirs." Then, noticing Joseph's wounds, he grew -very uneasy, and showed such feeling for him that all this, together -with the succor he had brought in so timely a manner, proved to my -mind his regard for his step-son, and his good heart, which I had -hitherto doubted. - -While we examined Joseph and convinced ourselves he was not very -seriously hurt, the monk told us how the butler at the castle had -once said to him that he allowed the bagpipers and other societies to -hold their secret meetings in the cellars of the castle. Those in -which we found ourselves were too far from the inhabited parts of the -castle to disturb the lady mistress of Saint-Chartier, and, indeed, -if it had, she would only have laughed, not imagining that any -mischief could come of it. But Benoît, who suspected some evil -intent, had got the same butler to give him a key to the cellars, and -a disguise; and that was how it was that he got these in time to -avert all danger. - -"Well," said the Head-Woodsman, addressing him, "thank you for your -assistance; but I rather regret you came, for those fellows are -capable of declaring that I asked you to do so and consequently that -I betrayed the secrets of the guild. If you will take my advice we -had better get away noiselessly, at once, and leave them to think you -were really ghosts." - -"All the more," added Benoît, "that their wrath may deprive me of -their custom, which is no slight matter. I hope they did not -recognize Tiennet--but how the devil was it that Tiennet got here in -the nick of time?" - -"Didn't you bring him?" asked Huriel. - -"That he didn't," said I. "I came on my own account, because of the -stories they tell of your deviltries. I was curious to see them; but -I swear to you those fellows were too scared and the sight of their -eyes was too wide of the mark ever to have recognized me." - -We were about to leave when the sound of angry voices and an uproar -like that of a fight was heard. - -"Dear, dear!" cried the monk, "what's that now? I think they are -coming back and we have not yet done with them. Quick, let's get -back into our disguises!" - -"No," said Benoît, listening, "I know what it is. I met, as I came -along through the castle cellars, four or five young fellows, one of -whom is known to me; and that is Leonard, your Bourbonnais -wood-chopper, Père Bastien. These lads were there from curiosity no -doubt; but they had got bewildered in the caverns, and I lent them my -lantern, telling them to wait for me. The bagpipers must have met -them and they are giving chase." - -"It is more likely that they are being chased themselves if there are -not more than five of them," said Huriel. "Let us go and see." - -We were just starting when the noise and the footsteps approached, -and Carnat, Doré-Fratin, and eight others returned to the cave, -having, in fact, exchanged a few blows with our comrades, and finding -that they had to do with real flesh and blood instead of spectres, -were ashamed of their cowardice and so came back again. They -reproached the Huriels for having betrayed them and driven them into -an ambush. The Head-Woodsman defended himself, and the monk tried to -secure peace by taking it all upon himself, telling the bagpipers to -repent of their sins. But they felt themselves in good force, for -others kept coming back to their support; and when they found their -numbers nearly complete they raised their voices to a roar, and went -from reproaches to threats and from threats to blows. Seeing there -was no way to avoid an encounter, all the more because they had drunk -a good deal of brandy while the tests were going on and were more or -less intoxicated, we put ourselves in an attitude of defence, -pressing one against the other, and showing front to the enemy on all -sides, like oxen when a troop of wolves attack them at pasture. The -monk, having already lost his morality and his Latin, now lost his -patience also, and seizing the pipe of an instrument which had got -broken in the scrimmage, he laid about him as hard as a man well -could, in defence of his own skin. - -Unluckily, Joseph was weakened by the loss of blood, and Huriel, who -bore upon his heart the recollection of Malzac's death, was more -fearful of giving blows than of receiving them. Anxious to protect -his father, who sprang into the fray like an old lion, he put himself -in great danger. Benoît fought very well for a man who was just out -of an illness; but the truth is we were only six against fifteen or -sixteen, and as the blood rose anger came, and I saw our enemies -opening their knives. I had only time to fling myself before the -Head-Woodsman, who, still unwilling to draw his blade, was the object -of their bitterest anger. I received a wound in the arm, which I -hardly felt at the moment, but which hindered my fighting on, and I -thought the day was lost, when, by great good luck, my four comrades -decided to come and see what the noise was about. The reinforcement -was sufficient, and together we put to flight, for the second time -and the last, our exhausted enemies, taken in the rear and ignorant -how many were upon them. - -I saw that victory was ours and that none of my friends were much -hurt; then, suddenly perceiving that I had got more than I wanted, I -fell like a log and neither knew nor felt another thing. - - - - -THIRTY-SECOND EVENING. - -When I came to my senses I found myself in the same bed with Joseph, -and it took me some time to recover full consciousness. When I did, -I saw I was in Benoît's own room, that the bed was good, the sheets -very white, and my arm bound up after a bleeding. The sun was -shining through the yellow bed-curtains, and, except for a sense of -weakness, I felt no ill. I turned to Joseph, who was a good deal cut -about the head, but in no way to disfigure him, and who said, as he -kissed me: "Well, my Tiennet, here we are, as in the old days, when -we fought the boys of Verneuil on our way back from catechism, and -were left lying together at the bottom of a ditch. You have -protected me to your hurt, just as you did then, and I can never -thank you as I ought; but you know, and I think you always knew, that -my heart is not as churlish as my tongue." - -"I have always known it," I replied, returning his kiss, "and if I -have again protected you I am very glad of it. But you mustn't take -too much for yourself. I had another motive--" - -Here I stopped, fearing I might give way and let out Thérence's name; -but just then a white hand drew back the curtain, and there I saw a -vision of Thérence herself, leaning towards me, while Mariton went -round between the bed and the wall to kiss and question her son. - -Thérence bent over me, as I said; and I, quite overcome and thinking -I was dreaming, tried to rise and thank her for her visit and assure -her I was out of danger, when there! like a sick fool and blushing -like a girl, I received from her lips the finest kiss that ever -recalled the dead. - -"What are you doing, Thérence?" I cried, grasping her hands, which I -could almost have eaten up. "Do you want to make me crazy?" - -"I want to thank you and love you all my life," she answered, "for -you have kept your word to me; you have brought my father and my -brother back to me safe and sound, and I know that all that you have -done, all that has happened to you, is because you loved them and -loved me. Therefore I am here to nurse you and not to leave you as -long as you are ill." - -"Ah, that's good, Thérence!" I said, sighing; "it is more than I -deserve. Please God not to let me get well, for I don't know what -would become of me afterwards." - -"Afterwards?" said Père Bastien, coming into the room with Huriel and -Brulette. "Come, daughter, what shall we do with him afterwards?" - -"Afterwards?" said Thérence, blushing scarlet for the first time. - -"Yes, Thérence the Sincere," returned her father, "speak as becomes a -girl who never lies." - -"Well, father, then afterwards, I will never leave him, either," she -said. - -"Go away, all of you!" I cried; "close the curtains; I want to get up -and dress and dance and sing. I'm not ill; I have paradise inside of -me--" and so saying I fell back in a faint, and saw and knew nothing -more, except that I felt, in a kind of a dream, that Thérence was -holding me in her arms and giving me remedies. - -In the evening I felt better; Joseph was already about, and I might -have been, too, only they wouldn't let me; and I was made to spend -the evening in bed, while the rest sat and talked in the room, and my -Thérence, sitting by my pillow, listened tenderly to what I said, -letting me pour out in words all the balm that was in my heart. - -The monk talked with Benoît, the pair washing down their conversation -with several jorums of white wine, which they swallowed under the -guise of a restorative medicine. Huriel and Brulette were together -in a corner; Joseph with his mother and the Head-Woodsman in another. - -Huriel was saying to Brulette: "I told you, the very first day I saw -you, when I showed you your token in my earring, that it should stay -there forever unless the ear itself came off. Well, the ear, though -slit in the fight, is still there, and the token, though rather bent, -is in the ear--see! The wound will heal, the token can be mended, -and everything will come all right, by the grace of God." - -Mariton was saying to Père Bastien: "What is going to be the result -of this fight? Those men are capable of murdering my poor boy if he -attempts to play his bagpipe in this region." - -"No," replied Père Bastien, "all has happened for the best; they have -had a good lesson, and there were witnesses enough outside of the -brotherhood to keep them from venturing to attack Joseph or any of us -again. They are capable of doing harm when, by force or persuasion, -they have brought the candidate to take an oath. But Joseph took -none; he will, however, be silent because he is generous. Tiennet -will do the same, and so will our young woodsmen by my advice and -order. But your bagpipers know very well that if they touch a hair -of our heads all tongues will be loosened and the affair brought to -justice." - -And the monk was saying to Benoît: "I can't laugh as you do about the -adventure, for I got into a passion which compels me to confess and -do penance. I can forgive them the blows they tried to give me, but -not those they forced me to give them. Ah! the prior of my convent -is right enough to taunt me with my temper, and tell me I ought to -combat not only the old Adam in me but the old peasant too,--that is, -the man within me who loves wine and fighting. Wine," continued the -monk, sighing, and filling his glass to the brim, "is conquered, -thank God! but I discovered this night that my blood is as -quarrelsome as ever, and that a mere tap could make me furious." - -"But weren't you in a position of legitimate defence?" said Benoît. -"Come, come; you spoke to those fellows in a proper manner, and you -didn't strike till you were obliged to." - -"That's all very true," replied the friar, "but my evil genius the -prior will ask me questions,--he'll pump the truth out of me; and I -shall be forced to confess that instead of doing it regretfully, I -was carried away with the pleasure of striking like a sledge-hammer, -forgetting I had a cassock on my back and thinking of the days when, -keeping my flocks in the Bourbonnais pastures, I went about -quarrelling with the other shepherds for the mere earthly vanity of -proving I was the strongest and most obstinate of them all." - -Joseph was silent; no doubt he felt badly at seeing two such happy -couples without the right to sulk at them, after receiving such good -support from Huriel and me. The Head-Woodsman, who had a tender spot -in his heart for the fellow on account of his music, kept talking to -him of glory. Joseph made great efforts to witness the happiness of -others without showing jealousy; and we had to admit that, proud and -cold as he was, there was in him an uncommon force of will for -self-conquest. He remained hidden, as I did, for some time in his -mother's house, till the marks of the fray were effaced; for the -secret of the whole affair was very well kept by my comrades, though -Leonard, who behaved very boldly and yet judiciously, threatened the -bagpipers to reveal all to the authorities of the canton, if they did -not conduct themselves peacefully. - -When we all got about again it was found that no one was seriously -damaged, except Père Carnat, whose wrist, as it proved, I had -dislocated, and a parley and settlement ensued. It was agreed that -Joseph should have certain parishes; and he had them assigned to him, -though with no intention of using his privilege. - -I was rather more ill than I thought for; not so much on account of -my wound, which was not severe, nor yet of the blows that had been -rained on my body, but because of the bleeding the monk had done to -me with the best intentions. Huriel and Brulette had the charming -amiability to put off their marriage till ours could take place; and -a month later, the two weddings were celebrated,--in fact, there were -three, for Benoît wished to acknowledge his publicly, and to -celebrate the occasion with us. The worthy man, delighted to have -had his heir so well taken care of by Brulette, tried to get her to -accept a gift of some consequence, but she steadily refused, and -throwing herself into Mariton's arms she said: "Remember that this -dear woman was a mother to me for more than a dozen years; do you -think I can take money when I am not yet out of her debt?" - -"That maybe," said Mariton, "but your bringing up was nothing but -honor and profit to me, whereas that of my Charlot brought you -trouble and insult." - -"My dear friend," replied Brulette, "that very fact is all that evens -our account. I would gladly have made your José happy in return for -all your goodness to me; but that did not depend on my poor heart, -and so to compensate you for the grief I caused him, I was bound to -suffer all I did for your other child." - -"There's a girl for you!" cried Benoît, wiping his big round eyes, -which were not used to shed tears. "Yes, yes, indeed, there's a -girl!--" and he couldn't say any more. - -To get even with Brulette, he was determined to pay all the costs of -her wedding, and mine into the bargain. As he spared nothing and -invited at least two hundred guests, it cost him a pretty sum, which -he paid without a murmur. - -The monk promised faithfully to be present, all the more because the -prior had kept him on bread and water for a month and the embargo on -his gullet was raised the very day of the wedding. He did not abuse -his liberty, however, and behaved in such a pleasant way that we all -became as fast friends with him as Huriel and Benoît had previously -been. - -Joseph kept up his courage till the day of the wedding. In the -morning he was pale, and apparently deep in thought; but as we left -the church he took the bagpipe from my father-in-law's hand, and -played a wedding march which he had composed that very night in our -honor. It was such a beautiful piece of music, and was so applauded, -that his gloom disappeared, and he played triumphantly his best dance -airs all the evening, and quite forgot himself and his troubles the -whole time the festivities lasted. - -He followed us back to Chassin, and there the Head-Woodsman, having -settled his affairs, addressed us one and all, as follows:-- - -"My children, you are now happy, and rich for country folks; I leave -you the business of this forest, which is a good one, and all I -possess elsewhere is yours. You can spend the rest of the season -here, and during that time you can decide on your plans for the -future. You belong to different parts of the country; your tastes -and habits are not alike. Try, my sons, both of you, to find what -kind of life will make your wives happy and keep them from regretting -their marriages now so well begun. I shall return within a year. -Let me have two fine grandchildren to welcome me. You can then tell -me what you have decided to do. Take your time; a thing that seems -good to-day may seem worse, or better, to-morrow." - -"Where are going, father?" said Thérence, clasping him in her arms in -fear. - -"I am going to travel about with Joseph, and play our music as we -go," answered Père Bastien. "He needs it; and as for me, I have -hungered for it these thirty years." - -Neither tears nor entreaties could keep him, and that evening we -escorted them half way to Saint Sevère. There, as we embraced Père -Bastien with many tears, Joseph said to us: "Don't be unhappy. I -know very well he is sacrificing the sight of your happiness to my -good, for he has a father's heart for me and knows I am the most to -be pitied of his children; but perhaps I shall not need him long; and -I have an idea you will see him sooner than he thinks for." Then he -added, kneeling before my wife and Huriel's, "Dear sisters, I have -offended both of you, and I have been punished enough by my own -thoughts. Will you not forgive me, so that I may forgive myself and -go away more peacefully?" - -They both kissed him with the utmost affection, and then he came to -each of us, and said, with surprising warmth of heart, the kindest -and most affectionate words he had ever said in his life, begging us -to forgive his faults and to hold him in remembrance. - -We stood on a hill to watch them as long as possible. Père Bastien -played vigorously on his bagpipe, turning round from time to time to -wave his cap and blow kisses with his hand. - -Joseph did not turn round; he walked in silence, with his head down -as if in thought or in grief. I could not help saying to Huriel that -I saw on his face as he left us that strange look I had seen in his -childhood, which, in our parts, is thought the sign of a man doomed -to evil. - -Our tears were dried, little by little, in the sunshine of happiness -and hope. My beautiful dear wife made a greater effort than the rest -of us, for never before being parted from her father, she seemed to -have lost a portion of her soul in losing him; and I saw that in -spite of her courage, her love for me, and the happiness she felt in -the prospect of becoming a mother, there was always something lacking -for which she sighed in secret. So my mind was constantly turning on -how to arrange our lives to live in future with Père Bastien, were it -even necessary to sell my property, give up my family, and follow my -wife wherever she wished to live. - -It was just the same with Brulette, who was determined to consult -only her husband's tastes, specially when her old grandfather, after -a brief illness, died quietly, as he had lived, protected by the care -and love of his dear daughter. - -"Tiennet," she often said to me, "I see plainly that Berry must give -way to the Bourbonnais in you and me. Huriel is too fond of this -free, strong life and change of air to endure our sleepy plains. He -makes me so happy I will never let him feel a secret pain. I have no -family now in our parts; all my friends there, except you, have hurt -me; I live only for Huriel. Where he is happy there I am happiest." - -The winter found us still in the forest of Chassin. We had stripped -that beautiful region of its beauty, for the old oak wood was its -finest feature. The snow covered the prostrate bodies of the noble -trees, flung head-foremost into the river, which held them, cold and -dead, in its ice. One morning Huriel and I were lunching beside a -fire of brushwood which our wives had lighted to warm our soup, and -we were looking at them with delight, for both were in a fair way to -keep the promise they had made to Père Bastien to give him -descendants, when suddenly they both cried out, and Thérence, -forgetting she was not so light as she once was, sprang almost across -the fire to kiss a man whom the smoke of damp leaves had hidden from -our sight. It was her good father, who soon had neither arms nor -lips enough to reply to our welcome. After the first joy was over, -we asked him about Joseph, and then his face darkened and his eyes -filled with tears. - -"He told you that you would see me sooner than I expected," said Père -Bastien, sadly; "he may have had a presentiment of his fate, and God, -who softened the hard shell of his heart at that moment, no doubt -counselled him to reflect upon himself." - -We dared not inquire further. Père Bastien sat down, opened his sack -and drew forth the pieces of a broken bagpipe. - -"This is all that remains of that poor lad," he said. "He could not -escape his star. I thought I had softened his pride, but, alas! in -everything connected with music he grew daily more haughty and -morose. Perhaps it was my fault. I tried to console him for his -love troubles by proving to him the happiness of his art. From me, -at least, he got the sweets of praise, but the more he sucked them -the greater his thirst. We went far,--as far even as the mountains -of the Morvan, where there are many bagpipers as jealous as those in -these parts, not so much for their selfish interests as for their -conceit in their talents. Joseph was imprudent; he used language -that offended them at a supper to which they hospitably invited him -with the kindest intentions. Unhappily, I was not there; not feeling -very well, and having no reason to fear a misunderstanding, I stayed -away. He was absent all night, but that often happened, and as I had -noticed he was rather jealous of the applause people were pleased to -give to my old ditties, I was apt not to go with him. In the morning -I went out, still not feeling well, and I heard in the village that a -broken bagpipe had been picked up at the edge of a pond. I ran to -see it, and knew it at a glance. Then I went to the place where it -was found, and breaking the ice of the pond, I found his poor body, -quite frozen. There were no marks of violence on it, and the -bagpipers swore that they had parted from him, soberly and without a -quarrel, about a league from the spot. I searched in vain for the -cause of his death. The place was in a very wild region, where the -law fears the peasant and the peasant fears nought but the devil. I -was forced to content myself with their foolish remarks and reasons. -In those parts they firmly believe a great deal that we should laugh -at here; for instance, they think you can't be a musician without -selling your soul to hell; and that Satan tears the bagpipe from the -player's hands and breaks it upon his back, which drives him wild and -maddens him, and then he kills himself. That is how they explain the -revenge which bagpipers often take upon each other; and the latter -never contradict, for it suits them to be feared and to escape all -consequences. Indeed, all musicians are held in such fear and -disrepute that I could get no attention to my complaints, and if I -had remained in the neighborhood I might even have been accused of -summoning the devil to rid me of my companion." - -"Alas!" said Brulette, weeping, "my poor José, my poor dear -companion! Good God, what are we to say to his mother?" - -"We must tell her," said Père Bastien, sadly, "not to let Charlot -take a fancy to music. It is too harsh a mistress for folks like us; -we have not head enough to stand on the heights to which it leads -without turning giddy." - -"Oh, father!" cried Thérence, "if you would only give it up! God -knows what misfortunes it may yet bring upon you." - -"Be comforted, my darling," said Père Bastien, "I have given it up! -I return to live with my family, to be happy with my grandchildren, -whom I dream of already as they dance at my knee. Where shall we -settle ourselves, my dear children?" - -"Where you wish," said Thérence. - -"Where our husbands wish," said Brulette. - -"Where my wife wishes," I cried. - -"Where you all wish," said Huriel. - -"Well," said Père Bastien, "as I know your likings and your means, -and as, moreover, I bring you back a bit of money, I've been -thinking; as I trudged along that we could all be satisfied. When -you wish the peach to ripen you mustn't pull out the stone. The -peach-stone is the property which Tiennet owns at Nohant. We will -buy other land that adjoins it, and build a good house for all of us. -I shall be content to watch the wheat-fields,--glad not to fell God's -noble trees, but to make my little songs in the olden fashion, at -evening, by my door, among mine own, instead of drinking the wine of -others and making jealousies. Huriel likes to roam, and his wife, -just now, is of the same turn of mind. They can undertake such -enterprises as we have now finished in this forest (where I see you -have worked well), and they can spend the fine season in the woods. -If their young family is in the way, Thérence has strength and heart -enough to manage a double nest, and you will all meet together in the -autumn with increased pleasure, until my son, long after he has -closed my eyes, will feel the need of resting all the year round, as -I feel it now." - -All that my father-in-law said came to pass, just as he advised and -prophesied. The good God blessed our obedience; and as life is a -pasty mixed of sadness and content, poor Mariton often came to us to -weep, and the worthy monk, as often, came to laugh. - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAGPIPERS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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