LEISURE HOUR SERIES AROUND A SPRING G.DROZ HENRY HOLT& Co. PUBLISHE New York 1" 1" c! Fr, boi Le If he thr wa Sta sue bin THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES 1 cO \ e Library, passsd GIFT OF California State Library i register of all members of the of the session. >m the Librajy, of the Library, 1 shall issue his iture, or of this e satisfied that f the Library by ^^^^ is or otherwise. members of the } Lej, ------------ ---- ---- .... & ^^ ov.oo^,i U i mv. ;, a me, and at any t time by the Governor and the officers of the Executive Department of this State who are required to keep their offices at the seat of government the Justices of the Supreme Court, the Attorney-General and the Trustees t} of the Library. JUST PUBLISHED: BUZZ A BUZZ; or, THE BEES. From the German of WfLHELM BUSCII (Author of "Max and Maurice"). By HEZEKIAH WATKINB. With colored illustrations. 8vo, cloth, gilt back, ink and gold side stamp. $1.50. "The book is one of the best recipes 'to laugh and grow fat' over that we have seen for many a day." Evening Mail. STRAUSS' THE OLD FAITH AND THE NEW. A Confession. By DAVID FHIEDRICH STRAUSS. Authorized translation from the sixth edition. By MATHILDE BLIND. American edition. Two volumes in one. The translation -evised and partly rewritten, and preceded by an American version of the author's "Prefatory Postscript." 12mo, $2.00. " I have never desired,. nor do I now desire, to disturb the contentment or the faith of any one. But where these are already shaken, I desire to point out the direction in which a firmer soil is to be found." pp. 9, 10. ft "An investigation of some of the most important; questions that a candid mind can ask of the world. ... A book which we feel sure, both from the nature of the sub- jects treated, the serious manner of discussion, and the deservedly great reputation of the author, will make its mark upon the time, not so much as an attack upon what we venerate as an apology for those who honestly differ from the majority of their brothers. Atlantic Monthly. , \ %#<& RECENT MUSIC AND MUSICIANS, as described in the Diaries and Correspondence of Ignaz Moscheles. Selected by his wife, and adapted from the original German by A. D. COI/EBIDGE. 12mo, cloth, $2.00. "Not only musical enthusiasts, but every one who has the faintest glimmer of a love for music and art will welcome with delight this volume. It is a personal history of music for sixty years of this century full of the names of artists and composers, each of them a centre of pleasurable emotions." Examiner. " Full of pleasant gossip. The diary and letters between them contain notices and criticisms on almost every musical celebrity of the last half century." Pall Mall Gazette. HAMMER AND ANVIL. By F. SPIELHAGEN. Household Edition, Ifimo. Uniform with "Problematic Characters" and "Through Night to Light." $1.50. "We have no hesitation in pronouncing 'Hammer and Anvil' one of the greatest masterworks of fiction in any language of late years." Evening Mail. A TOUR THROUGH THE PYRENEES. By HIPPO- LYTE ADOLPHE TAINE, author of " A History of English Literature," "Travels in Italy," etc." Having sold before Christmas the entire edition of Taine's Pyrenees, illustrated by Dore, the publishers will now immediately publih the text separately. It will be in a library edition, something like the same author's " Notes on England," and will be sold at not over a'quarter the price of the illustrated volume. It is remarkable that, in the illustrated edition, the work of the author hag attracted possibly more attention than the embellishments of the artist and publishers. This fact indicates a large Bale for the library edition. HENRY HOLT & CO., Publishers, New York. February 14, 1874. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. (Leisure-Hour Series.) AROUND A SPRING. BABOLAIN. vtf' LEISURE HOUR SERIES AROUND A SPRING TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH GUSTAVE DftOZ BY MS. SECOND EDITION REVISED NEW YORK HOLT & WILLIAMS 1873 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by HOLT & WILLIAMS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. MIDDLE-TON & CO., STEREOTYPKRS, BRIDGEPORT, CONN. PQ Z210 . DM WE AROUND A SPRING A FEW years ago, the village of Grand-Fort-le- Haut was totally unknown to the outside world. Lost among the defiles of the mountains, perched like a raven's nest amidst the branches of an old wal- nut tree, it was far removed from all progress, a stranger to political emotions, unmoved by social changes. The pretty road, adorned with side walks, gas-burners and tiny fountains, which now leads to it, turning and winding like a braided ribbon, did not then exist, and the only communication possible be- tween the valley and the village was a rough, sunken road, encumbered by stones which the melting snows and heavy rains yearly deposited, and so steep that nothing but ox teams could ascend. About half way up this picturesque, but almost impassable road, may be seen on the left, nearly con- cealed by briars, a fine old bridge, which, spite of its great age, boldly arches the deep ravine, and abuts upon a dark old doorway almost as ancient as itself, filled with clefts, surmounted by a large escutcheon, and studded with enormous nails. This was the en- trance to the chateau of Manteigney, whose slender towers, pointed roofs, narrow, strongly-barred win- dows, and thick, reddish walls, covered with moss and ivy, may be indistinctly perceived through the foliage. It had been deserted fifteen or twenty years ago, and the sight of the old feudal manor, rising in stately solitude from the ravine, and silent as a tomb, 4 AROUND A SPRING. was indescribably mournful to a Parisian eye ; so, after a hasty glance, one would continue his way without a second look, until he gained the first houses on the outskirts of the village, which soon appeared, and instantly effaced the impression produced by the chateau. Nothing can be more bright and cheerful than these pine huts, with their tall brick chimneys ming- ling with the foliage, large, flat, reddish roofs over- shadowing cracked, propped, disjointed balconies, cov- ered with creepers and wild eglantine, little low doors, and tottering staircases which would creak un- der the weight of a bird. They stand steeped in the sunlight, scattered hap-hazard on both sides of the road, keeping their balance tolerably well on the sharp slope, among the gnarled chestnut trees which shelter them with their huge branches, uphold them with their gigantic roots, and seem to make a part of their structure. I well remember the flock of ducklings which, startled at my approach the first time I entered the village, fluttered about among a number of half-naked babies lying on a clean white cloth, like Homer's phoci on the shore of the sea. The picture is as per- fect as ever in my mind. The screaming babies and bewildered ducklings tumbling about among the fat legs and dimpled arms, an old grandmother with out- stretched, wrinkled neck surveying the scene through her spectacles, and threatening the rebels with her distaff, and a stout man engaged in cutting poles, laughing till he shook from head to foot. It was a pleasant incident both to eyes and heart ; one felt that one was in the midst of worthy people. Even the sun, which flickered through the foliage as if it were an immense skimmer, had a specially friendly, cordial aspect, and seemed to delight in sending a thousand rays to play over the scene ; here, lost in a mass of lair hair, and yonder in the folds of a blue AROUND A SPRING. 5 apron ; now'gliding over a ploughshare, and now glit- tering, not without malice, on the scarlet kerchief of a young girl talking to the shoemaker, who appeared as if framed in his narrow window, between two pots of wall-flowers, laughing, jesting, attractive, irresisti- ble. One could not help noticing the sun, for it was everywhere flashing on the little round glass panes in their leaden casing, adorning with brilliant colors the scraps hanging from the balconies here and there, or converting a long bit of straw from some roof into a golden thread that glittered in the shadow. What a pretty collection of brilliant hues, and how charm- ing to the eye was the glimpse of the interior of the blacksmith's shop, with its warm rich tones which please the eye as much as the fumes of a good ragout delight the gourmand. The innumerable spider-webs looked like a milk-white cloud against the smoky rafters of the roof, and while the brawny neck of the Cyclops assumed tints of gold and purple beneath the caress of the sun's rays, the fire in the forge grew pale and dim. Spite of the delay, I wish to make one remark here. Let those who are in a hurry glide over it rapidly. Phoebus is not merely the handsome, pom- pous youth, curled a la Louis XIV., blessing the world from his gilded chariot, and whirling through space as fast as his four coursers can carry him. He likes to peep tlirough the vine branches and pry into little corners without caring for decorum, or thinking of his plumes, visit poor people, and thrust his laugh- ing face into attics. If a place pleases him, he forgets his astronomy, and without the least ceremony in- terests himself in botany, and plays with the children. It must be confessed that in dull weather, Grand- Fort-le-Haut is sombre, gloomy, rough, and poverty- stricken; but I first saw it under a cloudless sky, when all was merriment, all seemed rich, and songs echoed from every dwelling ; the villagers were hammering 6 ABOUND A SPRING. pounding, working together in the middle of 1he rough road,over which no carriage ever passed. The carpenter's axe flashed like the sword of the archan- gel ; the wheelwright turned his huge screw, pressing his stout form against it with many a grunt; and from time to time, farther on, merry rogues sat cracking their whips astride the greasy machine for shoeing oxen, which might have been taken for some unknown tool of the Holy Inquisition. The recollection of the little scene is still firmly impressed on my mem- ory. To conclude, Mayor Baravoux was a grocer, and his assistant kept the little inn, whose fir boughs might be perceived In the distance. The spit was seldom turned within its walls, for very few persons came there ; no one, to tell the truth, except the for- est-keepers who sometimes stopped while on their rounds. After passing through the whole village, a little, irregular, grass-grown square appears, at one end of which stands the humble church, worn by time and the winter snows. Its modest belfry scarcely over- tops the lofty chestnut tree growing near the porch. An unpretending belfry we might well call it. Im- agine a noisy child striking a Dutch oven with a pot ladle. -The most remarkable thing about it is, that the quavering of its faint voice has a simple, hearty sound by no means inappropriate to the surroundings. On approaching nearer and looking at the porch, whose timbers are worn by friction as far as the height of a man, one can see the great ladder and fire buckets, the bier on which the dead are borne to the grave, and the round shelf containing the conse- crated bread, stored away in the roof. The floor is flagged with tombstones, whose inscriptions and sculp- tured ornaments long since disappeared under the tread of the congregation. The door is charming with its triple row of crumbling columns, and single AROUND A SPRING. 7 arch carved as elaborately as a Byzantine bracelet. Spite of its decay, the keystone of the arch still re- vealed traces of a fiend tempting and Christ in the act of benediction. God had wholly disappeared, and nothing was left of the devil but an enormous tail, twisting- about between the alternately raised and hollowed squares which surrounded the whole arch. Who could the skilful artist, angel or fiend, have been who carved so exquisitely in this wild place ? These surprises are by no means rare in France. In, the most out-of-the-way wretched corners, may some- times be found some delicate fragment of art, the for- gotten relic of a lost civilization, a mute witness of a feeling which must have sprung up and died in this solitary place : but to continue. On the left of the ancient church, and resting against it, was a little house built of round stones, cemented by grayish mortar, and sin-mounted with a red roof. It was an humble dwelling, only one story in height, with a little blooming garden about ten yards square at most, in front, and overlooking the ra- vine in the rear. If you passed it early in the morn- ing, you would probably see a tall man, clothed in a black robe, perched on a ladder, pruning-knife in hand, training his grape-vine. The little house was the priest's dwelling, and the man in black no other than Abbe Roche, cur6 of Grand-Fort-le-Haut. He was about thirty-eight or nine years old, tall, stout, firmly built, broad shouldered, and possessing the easy carriage and bold, free step which in society is most frequently only an acquirement obtained by certain modes of life, but with him was the natural result of an upright mind and vigorous health lodged in a robust well-balanced frame. His clear, searching glance was that of a man who, having nothing to conceal, looks people in the face wishing to under- stand them, and only asking to be understood in re- turn. The prominent muscles of his jaw, contracting 8 AROUND A SPRING. at the slightest emotion, indicated rare energy, which was confirmed by the strong white teeth slightly curv- ing inwards. His hair was thick, somewhat rough, and cut very short. In character he was benevolent, generous, and good;but his smile, however frank, always had a some- what sad expression, and even in his acts of kindness he was grave, and might easily have been considered proud and haughty. The true reason was that Abbe Roche had never known either lather or mother, and submitted to the common law imposed upon those poor children who, having always been ignorant of familiar caresses and the frank affection of home, feel themselves strangers at every board, and maintain a constant reserve. Such children are long in unfold- ing their characters ; it seems as if an endless regret was weighing upon them. Kisses are to childhood what the- warm sun is to the young buds of spring. Plants and men droop sadly in the shade. Although he cultivated his garden himself, was a great player at bowls, and had a decided liking for physical exertion, his sunburnt hands were delicate if not white, his fingers beautifully formed, straight, supple and strong, and his nails well shaped. He did not have the wan, soft hand that is frequently, and often incorrectly, associated with churchmen, but rather that of a gentleman who has handled a sword in a leathern glove. He should have been seen facing the wolves that were driven into the village by the snow, or at the fire in 1859, when three barns were in a blaze almost at the same time ; the whole man seemed completely transformed. His face assumed a strange expression of determination and courage when confronting danger; he threw off his robe, his eye kindled, his voice became so loud and sonorous that he might have been taken for some adventurous leader charging into the midst of the melee, and his orders were obeyed without comment or hesitation. AHOUND A SPRING. 9 Hf himself was the first to rush forward, raising enor- mous beams, and using his axe like the infuriated wood-cutter in the ballad. One would have said that danger attracted him, and he took delight in wrestling with it. Was it a thirst for self-sacrifice, or an effort to pour forth in a single burst all the pent- up fire of his nature ? It was impossible to say ; for the danger passed, he regained his customary calm- ness and re-assumed his every-day manner, accepting thanks reluctantly, repelling praise, and ashamed oi having been caught in flagrante delictu of heroism. He was indeed very hard to understand, and ono might almost believe there were two natures in him. He lived simply and humbly, but with a steadfast, unvarying purpose, and would boldly give his last sou to help some one poorer than himself, or throw his cloak in a winter night over some beggar's shiver- ing shoulders with the greatest joy that he could render the poor wretch some service; but his pleas- ure was equalled by pride in the thought that he was conquering himself and disdaining the cold feared by so many others. In mid-winter he ventured out into the deep snows with as much eagerness as he had shown in battling with the conflagration, and when one saw him returning, holding in his hand an im- mense staff cut in the forest, with his robe raised to his waist, his limbs protected by huge woollen stock- ings, his nostrils reddened by the cold, dilated, and quivering as he inhaled the frozen air, his game-bag on his back, and his jaws set, he had a noble intrepidity of expression that commanded respect. He was held in high esteem for his strength, skill, and charity, and if by chance any difficulty arose, was instantly sought for, as in all circumstances he was known to be morally and physically a solid man on whom one could rely ; but at the same time, his parishioners felt that he had a nature which \vas not akin to theirs, and loved him with reserve, and at a respectful distance. 10 AROUND A SPRING. Abbo Roche was born among the mountains, but the exact place from whence he came no one knew. Nursed by a peasant woman, and received and ed- ucated among the nuns, he had naturally passed from their hands into those of the priest's, who had soon no- ticed his keen intellect and good conduct. He had grown up among these surroundings, the authoriza- tion rendered necessary by his birth was obtained, not without difficulty, and one day he entered the seminary without either distaste or enthusiasm, as a child born in a regiment enlists under the flag that has served him for swaddling clothes. He knew nothing of the life outside the vessel that had received him ; supposed it to be full of pitfalls and storms, and was glad to be in a place of safety. The years spent in the seminary were the only ones in which he breathed the air of a great city, but he only caught a glimpse of the world by stealth and with a thousand scruples, and on leaving his adopted family, became a curate in a poor parish in the Landes, where he i-emained only a short time. His ecclesiastical superiors esteemed him highly; his position as an illegitimate child, which had been a serious obstacle to his taking orders, was now a claim to the especial consideration of his chiefs. While he was still very young, they appointed him cur6 of Grand-Fort-le-Haut, where we find him, after a resi- dence of fifteen years, forgotten, but perfectly con- tented. What had taken place in his heart during this long period? A few of his locks had grown gray, his eyes were sunken, and his face perhaps retained some trace of mental struggle, but all storms seemed to be .forever lulled to rest in the calmness of a regu- lar, simple, and busy life. AROUND A SPRING. 11 II. The manor of the counts of Manteigney, of which we caught a glimpse just now among the trees, dates back for several centuries. Each generation had ad- ded something, left some trace of its presence, and as the site was rather restricted in its Limits, the result was a confused pile of incongruous buildings. It was here that for centuries the lords of the country had held their powerful sway. Possessing the whole valley as far as the market town of Virez, which com- manded its enti'ance, masters of immense forests, pasture grounds, and estates which covered the side of the mountain, they had always considered the vil- lage of Grand-Fort-le-Haut, which lay at, the door of their dwelling, as a dependence of the chateau. It was then a mere collection of huts in which the count's shepherds and wood-cutters were tolerably well lodg- ed under the protecting care of their master. By de- grees these lew huts had increased in importance, while the chateau lost its authority, until, aided by the great revolution, all active life concentrated in the village; and the manor, sombre, ruined, inert, ap- peared to be utterly defunct, leaving in the country only the memory of the legends connected with its ancient stones, and a sort of mysterious reverence. Among mountains, memories and impressions are most tenacious. Ideas are like clouds; they settle and lodge in crevices, and the tempests which pass overhead must blow a long time ere they succeed in uprooting the old beliefs which rest in the clefts of the rock. Just as the impulses of thought give a man a quicker gait, so slowness of motion entails dullness of mind. There is a remarkable connection between physical and mental activity, between the manners of a country and the condition of its roads. Birds, which move so swiftly, ought to think quickly also; the circulation must be equally rapid in ail J2 AROUND A SPRING. parts of their organization. They say that imagina tion has wings. I like to fancy that everything wing- ed possesses imagination. For instance, look at an ox moving along ; must not ideas be tardy in form- ing within him, and sensations slowly digested in the brain of the worthy beast, which is supplied with four stomachs ? The ox is conservative, and so is the mountaineer. It is enough to see the latter ascend- ing a path among the slippery stones, with measured, regular tread, economical of strength, and lavish of time, to understand that that man has no feverish brain. The snow that shrouds the country for five or six months does not merely imprison plants and rocks in its hoary mantle, but huts, men's ideas, and tradi- tions which put forth the strongest, most gnarled roots in this interval of silence and concentration. Thus in these regions the ideas of the past cling to man as man clings to the earth, and the old moss- covered pines cleave to the rocks. Hence it was not very extraordinary that the chateau of Manteigney should have retained the pres- tige of former days. It presented an imposing aspect, spite of having been abandoned for twenty years. True, its weather-cocks were on the point of falling, and its pointed roofs in a most pitiable con- dition under their veil of moss, but the old walls were still strong enough to withstand a siege. The most ancient portion of the chateau was the left-hand tower, which flanked the principal entrance. It dat- ed from the beginning of the fourteenth century ; and although at a much later period narrow windows with stone mullions had been inserted, the ground floor a low r hall which was reached by two well- worn steps, proved, by the ogive moulding of its ceiling and the shape of its huge chimney-piece, the correctness of the date just mentioned. This ground floor had been occupied for more than twenty years by pore and mere Sappey, to AROUND A SPRING. 13 whom the cave of the chateau had been entrusted. They lived there like mountaineers ; had as much wood as they wanted, the whole chestnut harvest, a cow and a goat ; Avhat more could be desired ? During the first few years after they were installed, they oc- casionally aired the rooms, swept them at rare inter- vals, and dusted a few articles of furniture ; then find- ing that it became very difficult to open the windows, their consciences readily absolved them from the duty, and the spiders took up their abode in the lofty rooms, which no one ever entered. There was, however, one very curious portion that was occasionally visited when some tourist or travelling agent wandered to Grand Fort. This in- teresting out-of-the-way corner, was the upper por- tion of a tower, to which the old relics from the arse- nal had been banished. It was reached by a little winding staircase, lighted by large loop-holes, through which the wind whistled with a doleful sound. The bats and screech owls fluttered away at your ap- proach, and one really felt relieved of a great weight when once fairly out of the narrow space. Then, in the midst of a chaos of scattered fragments, might be seen two culverins belonging to the former counts, three or four guns which had been mounted on the ramparts, notched sabres, a cresset with two burners, postillion's boots, a spear, half of a cuirass, a fragment of a helmet, a goodly number of empty bottles, and one of those huge, broad-backed, old-fashioned arm- chairs formerly universally seen in our ancestors' bedrooms, but now discarded by modern luxury. On leaving the tower, a broad terrace extends to the left, from which the whole valley can be seen, and upon which opened in former days the wide fold- ing doors of the state drawing-rooms, and the pic- ture-gallery with its long lines of plumed, cuirassed, and curled chevaliers, majestic and terrible in their worm-eaten frames. In confronting these imposing 14 AROUND A SPRING. highly-colored, haughty, and determined lords, one would need to have a very firm will not to be suffi- ciently awed to remove one's cap. The sight of such a past, still triumphant even beneath its veil of dust, leads one to think of the present and the future, and one would ask involuntarily what had become of the heir, the young Count, Robert Pierre Jean de Man- teigney, the direct descendant of these haughty lords, and the sole hope of his race ? It was known that he was not dead ; and the imagination pictured him as strong and vigorous like his ancestors, a great hunter, a hard drinker, also, gay and careless in his bearing, bold, intrepid, and perhaps very gallant to the fair sex. The latter was one of the characteristics of his family, at least so several old women with hooked noses coquettishly pretended to remember. Numer- ous conjectures had been made, and were still form- ed, concerning the young count, who was as interest- ing as an enigma, mysterious as a legend. Where did he live, what was he doing ? He had left the castle, with tearful eyes, just after his mother's death, when a lad about ten years old, and had never returned. The truth was that the orphan was found to be too poor to make a good figure in his ancestral home, and also receive an education in accordance with his rank; therefore a portion of the domain, long since shrunk to very meagre proportions, was sold, thus obtaining some little capital with which he might seek his fortune elsewhere, and the poor child went to his maternal uncle's, the Marquis de Vernac, who was henceforth to supply a iather's place. This marquis, who lived with the utmost econo- my on the remnants of his fortune, was a very pecu- liar person. He resided in Paris, Rue des Lions- Saint-Paul, on the second floor, looking out upon the court-yard. This was not all; he was excessively thin, pale, and as closely shaven as a Carthusian friar. There was something in his personal appearance sug- AROUND A SPRING. 15 gestive of the sacred Ibis of the Egyptians. Why, how ! I should not know how to describe it, but there was a resemblance. A perfect gentleman in every respect, one felt at first attracted towards him, but on perceiving at the top of the tall figure a microscopical little skull, shining and polished as a billiard-ball, one wondered where the poor marquis kept his thoughts. The truth is, that want of room had always prevented his obtaining any very large store of them. He had few ideas, for he always used the same methodically classed, carefully arranged, and strung one after another like the beads in a chap- let, so that when he threw off his night-cap in the morning, he began his first pater and went on from ave to ave until evening without the least emotion or fatigue but a calm conscience, and the feeling that he had done his duty under the protection of the laws and the eye of God. He was, in truth, the last person in the world to need a description, had it not been for his resem- blance to the sacred bird, and an unfortunate mania for rearing pheasants in his dressing-room, which gave him some little individuality. When Count Jean reached Paris, the marquis was electrified by the thought that he was to occupy a father's place to the last of the Manteigneys. The old gentleman, clad in his sky-blue coat and nankeen pantaloons, visited every college in Paris, and at last, worn out by these expe- ditions and anxieties, which disturbed his usual mode of life, placed his nephew at the College Saint Louis, in memory of the crusades. It was quite time, his head was bursting ! Thenceforward, his task complet- ed, the thought of the lad's education was like anoth- er bead to the chaplet in the marquis's cranium, and every day, at a certain hour, he fell into the habit of saying : " Thanks to my truly paternal solicitude, my nephew, Robert Pierre Jean, is receiving an excellent 16 AROUND A SPRING. education under the patronage of the best of kings, Louis IX., surnamed St. Louis. 1215." The marquis's surroundings were not such as to excite the imagination of young de Manteigney, or make him dream of any thing beyond his quiet life; on the contrary, a Sunday spent in the Rue des Lions- Saint Paul was sufficient to make the collegian joyous for a week. The class-rooms appeared to him to be comfortable, sweet and clean; the court-yards, where their leisure hours were spent, green and airy, in short, he thought it a model school ; but when the first down of his mustaches began to darken his lip, his mind became burdened with a heavy sorrow. Tho change was a rapid one. He had suddenly remem- bered that he was a count; he saw again, as if in a dream, the picture gallery at Manteigney, hung with the portraits of his ancestors ; the plumes, the glitter- ing breast-plates and magnificent wigs, began to whirl through his brain, and as he thought of his schoolmates, principally the sons of merchants and petty shopkeepers, he felt heart-broken. The idea that he Avas to take his bachelor's degree on equal terms with this herd, made the blood mount to his brow ; the uniform, a livery he had worn for seven or eight years without thinking of complaint, now seemed un- endurable, and he felt an intense desire to shake off these surroundings, and attest his noble birth by out- ward signs ; which was, in truth, a most natural feel- ing. Doubtless he succeeded in borroAving money on the fortune which Avas soon to come into his posses- sion ; for one fine morning he appeared before his uncle in a Avhite A'est and brown pantaloons, armed with a gold - headed SAvitch, curled, perfumed, and most elegantly attired. Upon this the marquis, tak- ing it for granted that his nepheAv's education Avas fully completed, thanked Heaven, embraced the young man, slipped .a note for five hundred fraiu-3 AROUND A SPRING. 17 into his vest pocket to assist him on his entrance into society, and gave him his blessing. During the following year, the last of the de Man- teigney's became totally transformed ; he was seen at the races and the theatre, entered the ranks of those amiable youths who are met Avith everywhere, fre- quented riding and fencing schools, became an habitue of the Bois de Boulogne, gave rise to various gossip- ing tales, and to complete his reputation as a man of fashion, began to seek for a mistress. Once em- barked on this course, he commenced to drain heavi- ly on his property, and opened the campaign with the little fortune of which he became absolute master on attaining his twenty-first year. Thus the last frag- ment of the old domain was squandered, and if to this be added the modest estate of the Marquis do Vernac, who died one morning as he was giving his pheasants their breakfast, the extreme skill with which the youth manoeuvred, and the tact and pru- dence he displayed in the difficult art of aristocratic living, his mode of life will be understood, as well as the reputation of being a thorough leader of fashion which he so long enjoyed among the brilliant circle in which he moved. III. But none of Count Jean's exploits had ever reach- ed Grand Forte, and the mountaineers, although de- prived of the presence of their lord, had lived in peace for twenty years under the shadow of the old chateau, when suddenly a report well calculated to ex- cite curiosity, spread through the valley. If public ru- mor was to be believed, the last of the de Manteigneys, whom all the men of fifty remembered having seen when a child, had just made an extremely wealthy marriage in Paris, and was preparing to return to hia 2 18 AROUND A SPRING. ancestral home in triumph. Already strangers had been seen wandering through the valley and visiting the village. A benediction, a heavenly dew, a gold- en rain was about to fall. The chateau was to be repaired and splendidly furnished ; all the estates be- longing to the domain were to be purchased, and it would soon be restored to its original dimensions. All this must be true ; for the notary from Virez, dressed in a white cravat and red as a turkey cock, had been seen in twenty places at once, and had even been galloping through the fields, an event hitherto unprecedented. While these interesting pieces of news were in circulation, commented and enlarged \ipon by every one, an architect arrived; the doors and windows were thrown open, and the workmen began their task. Soon nothing was spoken of in the mountains but the count and countess, the splendor of their sur- roundings, and the wonderful improvements of which the chateau was to be the object. The noble couple must have been in haste, for the work was pushed on with the greatest eagerness. An army of laborers, hired in the neighborhood, plied pickaxe and shovel day and night to make the horrible road that was mentioned, passable. Nothing was to be seen but slaters, suspended by ropes from the roof, painters busily occupied with the window-sashes and railings, gardeners arranging the flowei'-beds on the lawn, car- penters and joiners repairing the stables. Every day huge carts drawn by four oxen came into the court- yard, and large crimson arm-chairs, with gilt feet, up- holstery hangings, and hosts of beautiful things were unpacked. At the end of a few months the chateau was placed in a suitable condition to receive its mas- ter, and the people of Grand Fort were thinking of preparing a reception for the count and countess equal to the grandeur of the occasion. Already a triumphal arch, fireworks, speeches, and baskets of AROUND A SPRING. 19 flowers were discussed, but the arrival of a letter de- stroyed all their magnificent plans. M. de Mauteigney expressed, in a few words, a very decided preference for entering his chateau without any flourish of trumpets, as if he had left it only the day before. To be doubly certain, he re- fused to mention the time of his intended arrival. Whenever that was to be, a vanguard of servants in red small-clothes and gold-laced caps now took pos- session of their own quarters, the stables were filled, and the old kitchen chimney sent forth a noble vol- ume of smoke. The excited villagers and their agi- tated mayor waited all one week, then a second pass- ed away, and wearied by the delay, each resumed his usual occupations. On Sunday evening after vespers, the lovers of bowl-playing and they are passionate- ly fond of it in those regions who usually joined the cure, having assembled under the great trees in the enclosure, Abbe Roche unbuttoned the lower part of his cassock, seized his two balls, and the game be- gan. It had continued about half an hour, Avhen the cure, returning after a splendid hit, found himself face to face with a singular little personage, Avho had just entered the enclosure unseen by the players. This puny little man, with narrow, sloping shoul- ders, was dressed from head to foot in white flan- nel trimmed with blue braid. His long, thin neck, rose from a turned-down, yellowish shirt-collar, whose points were adorned with dogs' heads. A pink and blue cravat was knotted under it, and among its folds glittered a gold scarf-pin, the design of which repre- sented a horse's saddle and two dangling stirrups. His pants were extremely tight, and fitted closely over his microscopical boots with their very high heels, cov- ered with sky-blue cloth, ornamented with large pearl buttons, and embroidered with wonderful skill, stitch- ed, embossed they were certainly jewels of boots. Two locks of curled red hair fell below the hat, 20 AROUND A SPRING. which shaded a weary, worn, sallow face, furrowed by the sickly wrinkles which are not caused by old age. Add to the picture a pair of red mustaches coquettishly twisted at the ends, and gloves, the col- or of blood, thrust halfway into one of his pockets. Standing proudly with his legs stretched very far apart, the little man held a wonderfully tiny cigar- case of Java straw in his white, well-kept hands, and by dint of making a most hideous face, kept a square eye-glass without setting or cord in one eye, and looking smilingly at the good cure, who was gazing at him in astonishment, said : " The deuce take it, but you have a strong wrist, Monsieur le cur6. You certainly hurled that well ! " Abb6 Roche felt the flush that mounted to his very temples, and finding no answer for the moment, allowed his grave, searching glance to wander over this singular person, who still smiled with the most perfect indifference. The other players had stopped in amazement. " Go on with your game, this is Sunday, I believe ! Your roads are in a pitiful condition," continued the person in white flannel, looking at his precious boots, which were slightly soiled, after which he placed a cigarette between his lips, took a little silver-gilt tin- der box from his pocket, and carefully arranged the red wick with as little embarrassment as if he had been alone in his sleeping-room. " Do you belong to this part of the country, sir ? " asked the cure, who began to be somewhat irritated by this excessive self-possession. The smoker slowly lighted his cigar, turning it between his thumb and finger, then having poured forth a huge cloud of smoke through his nostrils, re- plied, with the most perfect sangfroid : " Yes, I live in the chateau yonder on the right, about ten minutes walk from here." AROUND A SPRING. 21 " Is it possible that you are Count Jean de Man- teigney ? " "Jean de Manteigney, as you say. Then you know me ? " " Excuse me, M. le comte, I " And so saving the cur6 dropped the ball he was holding, while all the mountaineers bared their heads as if at church. " Excuse you for what ? " rejoined the count, " pray continue your game, my dear cure, I am no spoil-sport ! " And he pushed back his little hat with a gesture both patronizing and familiar, care- lessly thrust his hands into his pockets, and began to hum, still smoking and balancing himself on his heels. " Tell them to go on, my dear cure. I like to see these honest fellows play. There is a splendid look- ing one, he has the strength of a bull. And then they are all looking at me it is impertinent." " Come, Bernard, it is your turn to play," said the Abbe, and then added : " Is it long since you arrived, M. le comte ? " " Only three or four hours, and I began by taking a walk in this direction. I like the country very much, it is pleasant and pretty. And the wine, how is the wine ? Do the vines promise a good harvest ? Faith ! that is an important matter." " Yes, M. le comte. Just now the " " Ah ! I am delighted to hear it. People ought to remember that wine is the traveller's staff and the old man's milk. Stop, there is that young bull throw- ing his ball. A fine fellow ! How old is he ? " " Twenty, at most." " It is wonderful. And the chestnuts, my dear cure, what about the chestnuts V " " They will be very plentiful," replied the cure, biting his lips. " That is capital ; better and better. Chestnuts are not to be despised ! It is your turn to play, cure." Abbe Roche took his position carefully, and 22 AROUND A SPRING. hurled the ball, but, a most unusual thing with him, missed his aim. He was confused by the gaze of that grey eye twinkling behind its tiny glass ; and the careless ease with which the little man addressed him redoubled his embarrassment. " Ah ! you have missed your stroke, my dear cure." " Yes," replied the priest, who was holding his second ball in his hand, and saw no cause for muling. " That is unlucky. Ah ! I was forgetting to tell you that the countess talks of nothing but you she is really wild to see you. It is, ' My cure ! where is my cur6 ? ' You are expected." " I will pay my respects to the countess to-mor- row." "This evening, if you like. You will be welcome whenever you come ; for my part, I don't like cere- mony. You see lam perfectly frank. Farewell, don't trouble yourself to attend me to the gate." And, as a child finding himself in the way, stared at him with wide open eyes, he exclaimed : " What are you doing there, little rogue, instead of going to school ? Ah ! to-day is Sunday ! Stop, here is some- thing to buy gingerbread," and tossing two or three silver coins into the little one's lap, he went away whistling. When he was fairly out of sight, all the mountain- eers looked at each other as people -gaze after some accident has happened. This was evidently not the count they had expected. It seemed to them utterly impossible that this little, thin, puny man, with his scanty reddish mustaches, could be the true lord of the chateau; the rightful descendant of the rude counts of former days. In regions where every one toils and struggles, physical weakness easily passes for infirmity, and a sickly appearance is considered something worthy of ridicule. As to the cure was it on account of his herculean frame ? He had never found any thing but compassion in his heart for frail AROUND A SPRING. 23 bodies and pallid faces. Good Christian as he was in other respects, certain familiarities annoyed him ex- tremely ; he felt at such times as if a tempest were raging within him, and if any one had ever dealt him a blow, it is very probable that the person would have been instantly knocked down ; never would he have dreamed of turning the other cheek. Besides being personally wounded by the count's manners, they had rudely dispelled his illusions ; Abbe Roche had always respected the nobility, not because he believed that moral virtue and physical beauty were the exclusive heritage of a certain class of men; but there was something of the poet and artist within him, and he found it consoling to think that there were certain families, ennobled by time and placed above all ambition and poverty, who were the depositaries and guardians of certain special vir- tues, lie did not reason upon these ideas, but be- lieved in them instinctively, and enjoyed them. IV. It was not without a certain degree of embarrass- ment that our cur6 prepared to visit the chateau the following day. He spread out on his narrow bed his Sunday cassock and a new band, and looked at the big silver watch destitute of chain and key, which he always carried in his pocket. He did not wish to reach Manteigney until after dinner, in order to avoid the invitation they would have been sure to give him, and which he greatly dreaded. He remembered how he had been wound- ed by the count's words: " Once for all, my dear cur<, there is a seat at table for you." That was not the only sentence which recurred to his mind as a disagreeable recollection. " The countess is wild to see you. My cure where is my cure ? " Surely there Avas no reason that this great lady should be so 24 AROUND A SPRING. extremely anxious to make his acquaintance. Per- haps she expected to find this cure, who had never left his mountains, a half savage, a boor, who had not a word to say, and doubtless wished to amuse her- self at his expense. What other explanation could be given to words which bordered upon impertinence, " My cur6 ! where is my cur6 ? " While carefully shaving himself, a multitude of thoughts passed through his brain, and he became so vexed at his own agitation that he was on the point of putting on his old cassock, merely as a protest against the weakness. He was thoroughly ashamed ; yet at the same time thought of the hour. " They must dine at five or half-past ; it is more than proba- ble, because the mayor and notary of Virez have din- ner at that hour. Now by arriving at half-past six I shall find them, in the drawing-room, or else walking on the lawn or perhaps sitting in a group sitting in a group ! " And this Hercules, who would not have trembled if a bear had stood in his path, shivered at the thought of all those eyes bent upon him. How would they receive him, how could he endure the curious, mock- ing gaze of the countess, when she should at last see the cure of her dreams ? At that moment some one knocked at the door. " Who is there ? " said the priest, without turn- ing. " Tell me, M. le cure," replied mere Hilaire from the next room, " are you going to wear your silver buckles?" " Why should I ? Is to-day Easter ? " " Bless me, you can do as you like, M. le cur6, but I would wear them if I were in your place. Nobles are accustomed to have people spruce up a little when they go to visit them." " Well, do as you please." AROUND A SPEING. 25 " Have I vexed yon, M. le cur6 ? " said the good eld woman timidly from behind the door. " No, my good mother. Get the buckles ready, get them ready, if yon think it best : but make haste." This mere Hilaire was a little, plump old woman with very bright eyes, quick, active, energetic, trotting about with little short steps, rummaging, searching everywhere, and adoring her cure". She lived in the next house, but was very rarely found there, so busy was she in taking care of the priest's dwelling, pre- paring his meals, mending his linen, and putting patch- es into his cassocks when they needed it, which was very often. She worked with so much skill and pa- tience, tenderness one might almost call it, that it was almost impossible to see the traces of her labor, and Abbe Roche had never perceived them. She did not wish any one to be able to say: "Monsieur Le cur6 wears patched cassocks." People can have self-re- spect, if they are not rich. She also kept the accounts for the priest, who paid no attention to them, and merely took his money without looking to see how much remained in the little drawer, into which, more than once, the good old woman had slipped two or three of her one-crown pieces, without any one's being the wiser. Yet she had a warm affection for her poor crowns ; but the most important matter was that M. le cure should not be restricted in his alms- giving, and that no poor people could say that they had knocked at his door and been sent away with empty hands. Mere Hilaire's affection for Abbe Roche, and the familiarity with which she addressed him, may be ex- plained in a few words : the old peasant woman had been the nurse of the foundling who afterwards be- came cur6 of Grand Fort. She had filled a mother's place to him; and when he left her to be under the charge of the nuns, wept almost as bitterly as if her own child had been taken away. Other griefs, still 26 AROUND A SPRING. heavier than that, had afterwards afflicted the good woman: she lost her only son, and five years after, her husband was killed by the fall of a pine tree which he was in the act of felling. She was thus left alone in her old age, in the tiny house at Virez where she had always had the society of her family ; she had striven to endure her solitude, and had borne her fate for several years ; but when she learned that the only being that was left to her, the child of her adoption, was settled as our6 three leagues from Virez, at the other end of the valley, she quickly set out for Grand Fort, saying to herself: " I shall not die alone, one of the three who were lost to me is restored." She pic- tured him as the child whom she had seen in former days, playing before the house and dabbling in the mud with the ducks, or as the tall stalwart youth who had met her when she went to visit him before he entered the seminary. She hastened to Grand Fort, agitated by these recollections, but Avhen, having knocked at the door, she found herself face to face with a full grown man of grave demeanor and seri- ous expression, she stood still in amazement, knew not what to say, and felt the tears rushing into her eyes. Her dream had vanished, her milk pail was dashed into a thousand pieces. Yet she could trace the features of the child and youth in the austere countenance of the priest; there was the thin, promi- nent nose, broad noble forehead, and kind, frank glance. She recognized them all, and said to herself: " If he would only smile, I should see the little dim- ple near his mouth I am sure it is still there." But he did not smile, did not even recognize her, for the old woman had been terribly changed by grief. After an instant's pause, she made a great effort anil said: " I am mere Hilaire, Monsieur le cur6 ; mere Hi- laire from Virez." Ah! there was no hesitation! She felt her elf AROUND A SPRING. 27 suddenly raised from the ground and clasped so close- ly that she could scarcely breathe, and murmured : "Monsieur Monsieur le cure! you will you will crush me, my boy." And Abb6 Roche, kissing her on the forehead, said softly : " Dear, dear mother, is it really you ? Oh ! my dear good mother ! " He no longer looked grave ; great hot tears flowed from his eyes, and yet at the same time he was smil- ing so happily that the little round dimple in his cheek appeared once more, to the great delight of the good woman. " And what brings you here, m6re Hilaire ? " said the abb6 after a moment's silence. " Well ! Monsieur le cure, it was the pleasure of seeing you, and then, it is stupid, I know, but I dare not say more ! I must tell you that God has left me all alone ; my boy is dead, and my husband was killed by a pine tree that fell and crushed him ten years ago on the eve of Saint John. You did not know that, Monsieur le cure ? " " Why no, no. What a sad misfortune ! " " Yes, indeed, it is terrible ! You do not remem- ber when pore Hilaire used to take you to gather fag- gots, and the tricks you played upon him. Excuse me, Monsieur le cure, I am talking of things that happened so long ago. 1 ' " Go on, my friend, you see that I like to listen." " Since that time I have had no one ; but the good God has restored you to me ! Well, I said to myself: He has no one and and people who are all alone it is natural sometimes take pleasure in living to- gether and then, if Monsieur le cure had no serv- ant, I" Abb6 Roche looked at the peasant with an ex- pression of such deep emotion that she cast down her eyes. 28 AROUND A SPRING. " Then you love me ? " asked Abb6 Roche. " Have I not nursed thee, tell me ; have I not brought thee up ? Do I love him ? It makes no dif- ference if thou art cure, and a strong man, and much nearer God than I, of course thou art still my boy. You must not mind my talking, Monsieur le cure, I cannot help it ; I do not know how to express myself very well, I keep saying thou. Oh, dear ! I have called him thou ! but I will take great care in future." " Speak to me as you have always done, I entreat you." She suddenly burst into tears, and clasping her hands, exclaimed : " Oh ! Lord, is he not kind, and not at all proud. Well, Monsieur le cure, it shall only be when there is nobody here, and we are all alone in a family circle, because now only we two rel- atives are left. Ah, no ! he is not proud." She said all this rapidly, with deep emotion, stop- ping in the middle of her sentences to take breath. " But when anybody is present, we will no longer be relatives. He must kee^ his station, that is only right ; and when they are gone, ah ! indeed, then I will say : ' thou ' when you like, Monsieur le cure, but if ever you are disturbed by it, you shall say : ' Hush, mere Hilaire,' and I will be silent ; it will not vex me in the least, my boy, my son. I have nobody in the world but you ! Let me kiss your dear, beautiful hands. Heavens, what a strong man ! and how good he must be, not to show me to the door after talking to him in such a way. A cure ! my boy a cure ! " Abbe Roche understood the loving delicacy of the good woman's words, in thus constantly alluding to the imaginary ties of relationship which united her to him. The poor man experienced a most tender emo- tion, all the more profound because, while recalling certain private sorrows of which he had never com- plained, she applied the most efficacious of all reme- dies; but his vigorous nature rarely gave way to AROUND A SPUING. 29 tears, and the sobs died away in his throat, rising 1 and falling like the bubbles of air on the surface of water. " Now, Monsieur le cure," continued the old woman, whose face was radiant with delight, "your house is very convenient, but it must be set in order, and you have no time to see to it. You must have curtains at the windows, and who will put them up ? Well, and the clothes to wash, and everything to be taken care of, and the soup to be made. You will say that you are going to have a servant; that is all very well. But servant-maids are an article in which there is great choice a very great choice : one breaks everything, another does not know how to do any- thing, and a third asks for forty crowns as one would ask for a glass of water. This is not all ; you must not have a very young person. It is all nonsense to (ay that God does not interfere in these matters, and that He has nothing to do with what goes on here be- low. In short, this is enough; you, Monsieur le cure, do not want a young girl. I have been thinking over the pros and cons of the matter before I came, and I don't believe you could find any one who would suit you as well as I. Besides, there is another thing about it, I don't ask anything, but give my services ; I have a little competence, and have no need of the forty crowns you would pay another person, so we save that much. I am an old woman ; it will amuse me and occupy my mind to take care of the house ; I will sell my property at Virez, and buy a little cot- tage close by you, with a bit of a garden and a small shed for my donkey and then I shall be sure of dy- ing near you, Monsieur le cure." Thus mere Hilaire became the abbe Roche's house- keeper ; and the reason she just urged him so perse- veringly to wear the silver buckles, was because she had given them to her cur6 on the tenth anniversary of her coming to his house. 30 AROUND A SPRING. V. When he had completed his toilet, the cur6 of Grand Fort set out on his way to the chateau. The sun, already low in the heavens, was glittering on the icy peaks, outlined against the horizon like airy fes- toons of silver lace. For the first time in many years, he passed on without even casting a glance upon the majestic scenery. The door of the chateau stood open. The priest, having entered its arched portal, stopped for an instant at the room occupied by pere and mfere Sappey, by no means sorry to delay his visit a few moments. The two old people were in gala dress, sitting side by side in one corner of the apartment on an old bench, blackened by use. It was the only piece of their old-fashioned country furni- ture that still remained. The ground floor of the old tower was wholly changed in appearance, and now resembled the lodge of a well-trained concierge. It contained two large arm-chairs of grayish wood in the Louis XVI. style, covered with lemon-colored Utrecht velvet. A square mat was carefully placed before each seat. The mountaineer's chest had dis- appeared, and was replaced by a commode of wrought copper, on which stood two superb candlesticks, one on each side of a clock, representing the temple of Love resting on a globe. Surrounded by this cast-off splendor, selected hap-hazard from the ancient furni- ture of the chateau, pere and mere Sappey seemed to have lost their individuality; their whole expression was one of mingled surprise and sorrow, which might be taken for joy or despair, as one pleased. On perceiving the cure, who also had not his ordi- nary manner, instead of going to meet him and in- viting him to enter, as usual, they both rose with a little company smile and stood motionless, almost as yellow as the velvet arm-chairs. AROUND A SPRING. 31 " Well, pere Sappey, are you happy ? " " Oh ! certainly, Monsieur le cur6," replied his wife, without raising her voice, " certainly, of course he is." " You are no longer alone, and your room has been very handsomely furnished." " Oh ! bless me, yes, Monsieur le cure", bless me, yes. And our masters belong to the very best socie- ty. The countess's papa ah, how affable and pleas- ant he is to everybody ! Only take care how you walk on the mats," added mere Sappey, addressing her husband, who had made a step forward, "you will flatten them, and then you will have a quarrel with the steward. Ah ! Dufour is no joker, you know that very well." " You told me that you were very well pleased, mere Sappey," continued Abb6 Roche, " but you ad- ded only. What is it that you lack ? " " Nothing at all, Monsieur le cure". They give us everything we need. M. Dufour does not even wish me to make my husband's soup. He says that if I cook, it would make an odor what in the world did he call it ? Oh ! he says that it would make an infectious odor ; I don't know exactly what he means by that ; but we are supplied with food, and well sup- plied, I can tell you ! Too well, for we have nothing to do. It is so tiresome to do nothing ! " " Hush ! you have been told that we are paid for doing that," said the mountaineer, gravely. " I'm not saying any harm, only it's tiresome to stay here, sitting still all day long. It gives one a pain in the back but we are very well off all the .same; only " " There is your only again, mere Sappey," said the cure. " Tell me, quickly, what is the matter ?" " Well, this is what troubles me ; you needn't wink at me I can tell Monsieur le cure\ Well, then, the steward said he meant well, of course that pere Sap- 32 ABOUND A SPRIXU. pey must not be dressed in this way any longer ; that in short, a quantity of things ; and they are go- ing to put my husband into red clothes like the others, and it has such an effect upon me ! It is just as if they said, ' You must be married to another man.' " The old mountaineer muttered : " How silly these women are. Good Heavens, how silly they are ! " " And the Lord knows that the men are vain enough ! It is because there are brass buttons, and gold lace around the pockets that he wants to wear that coat. He is dying to get it on." " Why, mere Sappey," said the cure, " no one can compel your husband to wear a livery against his will. You are anxious without cause. Are the count and countess in the chateau ? " " Yes, Monsieur le cure, you will find them on the lawn with the others." As the priest left the tower, the good woman turned to her husband : " There, you have again for- gotten to pull the handle. Don't I tell you that you will get us into trouble ? " She rushed forward, striding over the little mats, to a copper button which projected from the wall, and the ringing of a bell was heard in the court-yard. A footman in small-clothes and white stockings in- stantly appeared at the head of the stairs, and walked on before the priest, who began to regret that he had not left the huge cane he was in the habit of carrying, in pore Sappey's charge. While he was crossing the ante-chamber and the splendidly decorated drawing-room, he could not help observing the superb lackey who was leading the w r ay. He was a noticeable person, and moved with striking ease and dignity of bearing. His complexion was pale, his expression grave; his carefully arranged hair was powdered, his stiff, light whiskers brushed back on either side of his noble countenance, and the shining pumps he wore had such delicate soles and AROUND A SPRING. 33 were so handsomely shaped, that on looking down at his own shoes, which left much to be desired in point of beauty, the cur6 felt an involuntary sense of inorti- fication-^even heroes are not exempt from such fol- lies yet he was well pleased. The glittering orna- ments, the suits of armor resting against the walls, the hangings, embroidered with the count's armorial bearings, the stately portraits, proud witnesses of a venerable past, even the valet, who had acquired some- thing of the characteristics of the aristocracy while in their service all was a fitting expression of the maj- esty by which he wished to see the nobility surround- ed. The apartments had an air of grandeur and mag- nificence, and were, in truth, an appropriate residence for these noble counts with their imposing appear- ance. The valet opened a glass door, which admitted them to the lawn, and the priest, advancing, heard such shouts of laughter as sometimes rise from the grounds of a boarding-school during the hours of re- cess. In the centre of the lawn seven or eight per- sons, dressed in light colors, were playing hot cockles with the most total absence of restraint. The cure, somewhat bewildered by the unexpected sight, turn- ed involuntarily towards the dignified footman, who was perfectly calm, grave, quiet, and impassible. On finding himself in the presence of people whom he had surprised in more or less ridiculous attitudes, and who were clothed in strange, fantastic costumes, the priest suddenly and completely regained his self- command, his face assumed its usual grave expres- sion, and he descended the flight of three steps like the statue of the commandant. " Ladies and gentlemen," cried the Count de Man- teigney, twirling round on one foot, " allow me to present our beloved pastor." This sally produced a very different effect from what he had anticipated, and at the glance which Abbe Roche cast around him, 3 34 AEOUND A SPRING. the laughter died away, the eye-glasses dropped, and the gentlemen bowed courteously. The ladies wel- comed the new-comer by a slight motion of the head, leaning back, almost reclining in their huge arm-chairs. , One of them the young countess who seemed al- most lost among the flounces and puffs of her white dress, raised a beautiful arm which looked almost ' bare in its transparent sleeve, and familiarly, as one convent friend would greet another at the prefet's ball, held out her little gloved hand to the amazed Abbe Roche. It \vas the first time in his life that he had encountered such an apparition. On certain days, when his mind was disturbed, he had perhaps caught a glimpse of attractive, tempting images in some fleet- ing dream ! but the charms of this countess, whom he saw with his own eyes, could even touch with his own hand for she extended hers surpassed all that his imagination had ever pictured. She did indeed possess a singular, most unusual style of beauty, whose wonderful brilliancy the priest could only explain to himself by attributing it to the influence of a heavenly soul, which was faithfully mir- rored in the fair face. Her hair arranged in a multi- tude of light curls, and most skilfully knotted to- gether, was of the light red and golden hues that one sees in a field of wheat when the sun is setting. And while her face was of the pure, creamy whiteness that one would not suppose the human skin could possess, her eyebrows were extremely dark, almost black, and as if traced by an artist's pencil, formed a most per- fect arch and ended in a delicate line at the temples. Her eye had a deep, searching expression, caused by the dark tinge that surrounded it and gave it a mys- terious glance, though without diminishing its bril- liancy. The lashes increased this effect : they might have belonged to some Indian woman adorned for a sacrifice ; unusually black, fierce looking, yet soft and curved so that the tips, of remarkable length, almost AROUND A SPRING. 3.5 touched the extreme point of the wonderful eyebrows and seemed to mingle with them. She was most beautiful, but appeared like a vision, so that one was both uneasy and attracted. In spite of one's self, one strove to understand the secret of these charms, and could not take one's eyes from the living enigma. Abbe Roche, who was less acquainted than most men with the tricks and stratagems of modern co- quetry, felt, in spite of his apparent gravity of de- meanor, an irresistible curiosity. Was this an angel descended among us for a moment? was it some re- nowned fairy, escaped from an ancient legend; or perhaps the countess was angel and fairy in one such phenomena are sometimes seen. " Ah ! my dear good cure, how glad I am to see you ! " She spoke very rapidly, and made a thousand little gestures, most charming in themselves, but wholly unnecessary to convey the meaning of her words. " The count must have told you that you are never out of my mind ; I have dreamed of you constantly ; do not make excuses, but give me your hand. Oh, you shall not escape me, rely upon it; give me your hand. Pardon me if I cut short the in- troductions, there is nothing more stupid." Then hastily removing her glove she waved her little hand, pink and white like her face, full of blue veins, and loaded with rings, around the circle, say ing: "The Count de Manteigney you already know ; Mme. and Mile, de Rougeon, of whom I am very fond ; Monsieur de Rougeon, with the black mus- tache, husband and father of the two ladies, whom I also like sometimes ; don't interrupt me, M. de Rougeon, I see you want to propose an amendment. Let me see, who else ? ah ! papa, whom you see yon- der in a white waistcoat, he's rather stout, poor papa. He is talking just now with young Claudius, one of our Parisian beaux, with the curled whiskers, blue 36 AROUND A SPRING. cravat, etc., a horrid creature I say so because he isn't here." " I hear you, countess," said Claudius, who was standing at some five or six paces distance. " Then I will add that I like him very much, all the same, and he plays hot cockles as if he had invent- ed it. By-the-way, wouldn't you like to play a game, Monsieur le cur6 ? You see we are very unceremo- nious." "Oh! my dear," murmured Mme. de Rougeon, waving her little fan with an expostulating air. " Well, what ! my dear friend ? Is there any game less objectionable than hot cockles? Besides, I don't insist upon it. People need not play unless they wish. Monsieur le cure, put your little switch in a corner, and sit down here near me. I am so anxious to have a serious conversation with you. There are many poor people to be helped in your parish, are there not ? " " Some few, yes, Madame, but " " Well, I had taken it into my head that there were more ; it is a settled idea. I shall visit the mountains myself from top to bottom, on a pretty lit- tle white donkey that I shall keep expressly for that purpose, with scarlet rosettes under its ears. How should one spend one's life if not in charity, and for what will God hold one accountable, if not for the good one can do ! " Abb6 Roche was deeply moved by the last words. Was it not evident that they were those of a noble soul ? Let us add that they fell from the countess's lips with a most musical intonation, and that her voice possessed delicate shades and unexpected mod- ulations, whose charm would be felt by any ear, how- ever uneducated and unsympathetic it might be. So sweet a voice must be the expression of moral beauty. And yet, if this young woman was an angel, as every thing tended to prove, why were her arms almost AROUND A SPRING. 37 bare in the gauze sleeves which merely seemed to idealize their beauty? Perhaps it was on account of the heat : it was, certainly, extremely warm. Was it also a matter of chance that the upper part of the waist of her dress had no lining, and revealed the outline of her figure, which irresistibly attracted the gaze. Wherefore this display of charms, which were useless to a person who wished to devote her life to the relief of the poor ? What a strange mystery ! Was it also by accident that, while engaged in conversa- tion, she thrust out her foot until a large portion was visible of her white silk stocking with its open-work embroidery, so open that the white became pink, either from shame at being observed, or because the limb it covered without concealing, appeared through its thousand accommodating meshes ? Was it a mat- ter of accident that the young woman tapped her little foot with an impatience for which there was no apparent cause, attracting the attention with innocent or most consummately artful carelessness, to a tiny pearl gray boot, which might have belonged to a child, with heels so high and narrow that it would be im- possible for any thing but a bird to keep its balance on them. The priest was thinking of all this, while the countess was talking. "And how can one conceive of the lives of these poor mountaineers, who spend half their time under the snow ?" she continued. " And, oh dear ! they rear children, notwithstanding all this : it is an unheard of thing !" A general burst of laughter roused the cure from his abstraction, and he smiled without hav- ing comprehended a single word. " What is there so very extraordinary in what I said ?" asked Mme. de Manteigney, without showing the slightest embarrassment. " People must have no heart to laugh at such misfortunes ; but tell me, my dear cur6, is there no way of melting this dreadful 38 AROUND A SPRING. snow or sweeping it off, or we must find some means of removing it, for your situation is frightful." At that moment the two wings of the glass door were thrown open, and a steward, dressed in black from head to foot, like a lawyer, announced that din- ner was served. Abbd Roche felt his color rise. Doubtless they would think that he had chosen the dinner hour intentionally as the time to pay his visit ; but how was he to suppose that the meal was served after seven o'clock. " Come, let us go in to dinner, my dear cure', we shall be able to talk better there." Abbe" Roche's embarrassment was always manifested by a chilling reserve, which would naturally be misunderstood by those who were not thoroughly acquainted with him. He excused himself in a very few words, and in such a manner that no one attempted to press the matter. The countess, after making a pretty little grimace, cried : " Ah ! well, this is only the beginning. So you will not stay. I want you to visit us, Monsieur le curd, and as you are so fond of ceremony, I will send you an invitation to dinner on handsome, enam- elled paper." While Abbd Roche was returning home, with downcast eyes, thinking of what he had just seen, the inmates of the chateau took their seats around the large table. " Do you know, my curd is very good looking ? " said the countess ; " he's not at all the kind of person I expected." " He looks like a magistrate on the bench," mur- mured the count's father-in-law, blowing upon his spoonful of soup ; and Mme. de Rougeon, who had the stiff manners one might attribute to some carven saint, replied : " It would be desirable that all magis- trates had his noble, unaffected bearing and face. The cur6 of this village is a magnificent looking man, who must be remarkably dignified at the altar: one in ABOUND A SPRING. 39 whom Saint Thomas Aquinas would take pride, it is no exaggerated praise to say that." " That is exactly like ladles," sighed Monsieur de Rougeon, " they judge a priest by the what shall I call it ? by the beauty of his form, if I may dare to say so." " I should not have dared to say it, papa, and that is the way papas disturb young girls' minds by not being sufficiently guarded in their conversation." " Angele !" " Papa." " If you were not such a lively child, your I don't know exactly how to express myself your badinage would be embarrassing, little mischief. It is by the moral virtues that you should first judge a man of caractere sacre." " Good ! papa is swearing." And placing a tortoise-shell eye-glass on her little retroussee nose, Mile, de Rougeon, with a saucy air, cast a merry glance at the guests, who all laughed heartily. " As for me," said the count, addressing his wife, " I was by no means pleased with your cure ; he is a pedant, and I should be surprised if this carabinier in disguise turned out to be any better than a simple- ton." " Faith, perhaps you are wrong my dear fellow," observed M. Claudius ; " but it is my firm intention to make him my intimate friend. He will help me in my researches in this region, and I am sure that there are wonderful things to be collected, especially rare china I already scent old china. Ah ! by-the-way, I have put aside a little red copper kettle, adorned with the Manteigney arms. It is an exquisite thing pure Louis Quinze. The savages were going to put it on the fire. If you are willing, we will make an ex- change. I know that this Vandalism with regard to relics is the most common thing in the world, but it 40 AROUND A SPRING. always vexes me. You have seen my Henri Second corkscrew ?" " Certainly, it is at Cluny ?" " Not yet ; they are such obstinate people ! We have been at a stand-still for six months about twenty- five louis. They offer me a hundred, but I want a hundred and twenty-five." " You are making a goorl bargain, my friend." " Certainly I am. I paid a little more than two francs for it, in an out-of-the-way inn near Orleans." A general laugh again resounded through the room. " Claudius is a singular fellow. What a fac- ulty he has for collecting curiosities. Nothing escapes him!" And Claudius, as soon as silence was restored, be- gan the story of the Henri Second corkscrew, relating with much wit and animation the numberless strata- gems to which he had been compelled to resort in order to obtain the precious treasure. VI. Viscount Claudius was a gentleman who belonged to the most fashionable society. He was born at least so he said with soft lair hair, a very keen in- tellect, and great worldly experience. He also pos- sessed principles of most unbounded liberality, and had, besides, unlimited credit at his tailor's. He was wonderfully accomplished and gifted. Nature linger- ed over her finishing touches to this young man, cor- recting the contours, retouching the half-tints, cover- ing her work with delicate strokes, caressingly shaping the outlines. Unfortunately she had forgotten the frame, and the young viscount, on attaining years of discretion, had instantly realized the imperative ne- cessity for a gilder who could supply what was want- ing. There is no slight difficulty in making a fortune AROUND A SPRING. 41 when the traditions of a majestic past, real or imagin- ary, compel you to accept only from divine liberality the wealth that others procure by regular, daily labor. This handsome youth thus found himself on leaving college, like many of his associates, strangely embar- rassed by being confronted with numerous pursuits, into which the common herd rushed eagerly, while he could not even cast a glance at them without disgust. He remembered that chance had always been Provi- dence incognito, and played a little at baccarat to re- call himself to the memory of his Heavenly Father. His first efforts were successful ; the louis rolled into the pocket of his pretty vest ; he looked around him with more confidence, and perceived numbers of fair- haired gentlemen as charming as himself, who were in the same situation. Naturally he adopted their mode of life, observed their means of procuring mon- ey, and was soon convinced that the improvement of the horse was the only door of safety in which a man of rank could take refuge with any advantage. He therefore studied the crossing of the breeds with great assiduity, became familiar with the most famous horses, and, finding more and more pleasure in the piirsuit, and also being gifted with great quickness, soon became known as a judge of horse flesh, and was quoted as an authority whose opinion was second in value to none. It was at this time that his intimacy began with the great duchess of Blanmon, who was a little fond of horses. The viscount's presence in the family circle at Manteigney may be very easily explained. Count Jean and Claudius had met in the upper circles of Parisian fashionable society. They had easily under- stood each other, and had become very intimate friends. It was to the viscount's tact that Jean de Manteigney owed the wealthy marriage that had re- gilded his escutcheon. The two young men were leaving the Opera 42 AROUND A SPRING. House one evening. As they stepped under the aw- ning over the entrance, they began to yawn, and the taller of the two, drawing his watch from his pocket, exclaimed : " Twenty minutes past twelve. What are you going to do this evening, de Manteigney ? " " Nothing, my dear fellow. I was thinking of looking in at the club, but it is of no consequence. I will go wherever you like." " Well ! that is just the thing ; let us go to the club." He made a sign ; a tiny coup6, about the size of a bureau, drew up, and both entered. After a mo- ment's pause, as the little affair was whirling rapidly over the boulevard, Claudius said to his companion : " My dear Jean, lend me a hundred louis." " Willingly, my friend, if you will first advance me two hundred." ' Ah ! that is how it is." ' It is exactly as I have the honor to tell you." ' Then it is a serious matter ? ' ' Extremely so ! And you ? " ' Oh ! I'm in the same fix, precisely." And they both hummed a few moments, after which Claudius exclaimed, striking his friend on the knee, " What do you intend to do ? " " There are always the pontifical zouaves. What would you have ? " " Something better. You must make a wealthy marriage, and you won't find a fiancee there. May I ask you frankly just how much you have left ? " " I confess that the question coming from any one else would be extremely impertinent. I have some credit, and an old house in the mountains, total " " What sort of a house ? " "A little old, black, sombre chateau, a perfect eagle's nest, concealed under the chestnut trees." " And its revenues ? " " Can you ask such a question ? " " What is the name of the chateau ? AROUND A SPRING. 43 " Manteigney, of course ! It is our family chateau." Claudius's face suddenly changed, and he exclaim- ed, speaking with comical emphasis : " What a child you are ! you complain, and yet have all the trumps in your own hands ! Ah ! if I only had a chateau that bore my name ! Will you place your fate in my hands ? The deuce take it, we must make a bold push." At the same moment Claudius let down the front window, spoke to his coachman, and the carriage turned in another direction. " Are we not going to the club ? " " Certainly not, we are going to spend a quarter of an hour at friend Vernon's. There will probably be a. crowd there this evening, on account of its being the first night of the Varieties A feudal castle ! Was there ever such a chance ? " " What are we to do at Vernon's ? " " Look up the father of the charming creature whom you are to marry in less than three months, if you play your cards well." " Has she a decent fortune ? " " Indecent on the contrary, colossal, monstrous. Are you satisfied ? " " And what sort of a person is the father ? " " Very fair, a very good sort of person. He is a manufacturer. You know what those kind of people are very fair." "A manufacturer- but a manufacturer of what? a lamp-maker, or a tinman ? " " Oh ! he must have been a worker in tin, I won't conceal anything from you; he was a dealer in spouts, but they \vere excellent spouts ! " Both burst into a shout of laughter, in the midst of which Count Jean said : " I cannot keep such low company as that. Come, be reasonable, my family is of no mushroom growth." " Neither is mine ; and yet I assure you that tho spout dealer's daughter would suit me perfectly. I 44 AROUND A SPRING. will even tell you that I wouldn't give her to you, if it were not impossible to get her myself. I will add, my dear fellow, that your father-in-law gave up his spout business long ago." " Ah ! he has given it up. He did right ; and what has been his occupation since then ? " " He is satisfied with being one of the great capi- talists in France, in originating and sustaining colossal schemes, owning the mines and forges of Lamar, being the sleeping partner and associate of of the " " Ah ! do you mean pere Larreau ? " " You have hit it exactly." " Oh ! why didn't you tell me so at once ? You made my back creep with your spouts. He is not at all an out-of the- way person. M. Larreau is well known relatively. He is a financier, my dear fel- low." " Who said that he wasn't ? Then he is in active life ; has been in our society in short, is very influ- ential a friend of the ministers." " As to that, I care nothing about it. Does this Vernon fellow live far away. It is vexatious that he should have sold What did you say that he sold? What singular commencements there are to some careers ! " " I said spouts, my good friend." " There are so many chattering simpletons ready to say that we sell our names fools, Avho will not understand " "The demands of the society in which we live; but, thank Heaven, we are in a position to choose our wives where we like, if it were from a back shop, without loAvering ourselves by it. She \vill bring an immense dowry. Well, that is the least she can do; after having taken the dear little thing for nothing, and polished her up beautifully, should you be also at the expense of coloring ! That makes me furious. What, my dear fellow, these people have pillaged, AROUND A SPRING. A5 robbed, ruined us, enriched themselves at our ex- pense, like footmen, by selling our cast- off clothes, and we are not to have a right to recover some little portion of our property, by marrying their daughters, whom we remove from them. The deuce ! you must imagine that it was by stealing the lead from your gutters that M. Larreau succeeded in making his first spout, and becoming what he is. Well ! now you say to him: 'I wish to marry your daughter; jo\\ shall be the father of a countess, robber, but restore my gutter.' That is how I understand the situation. Oh ! I have a very clear head for these matters." " How perfectly reasonable your remarks are, my dear Claudius." " Good Heavens ! suppose all these people, who have become suddenly rich, should humble them- selves a little and place their daughters and their money bags at our feet, do you see any great harm in that ? Does it not very much resemble a neces- sary restitution ? " " Yes, necessary, fortunate, providential." " Certainly providential. For seventy years these people have blocked up all the roads, plundered and soiled everything, until in our noble country of France, a gentleman, who does not wish to soil his boots, is, deuce take it ! forced to walk on his hands, or shut himself up in his cellar, arid should not justice be done at last ! Empty your pockets, Jean Bonhom- me, give us your daughter, and return to your du- ties." At that moment the carriage rolled over the grav- el, and stopped before the door of a fine mansion, which belonged to Vernon, a historical painter by pro- fession. I deeply regret that respect for private life should have prevented my writing the curious volume about Vernon and his studio, which they both deserve. It would be to such a book that I should now send the 46 AROUND A SPRING. reader, instead of spoiling a capital subject by a sketch which is of necessity too hasty. These are the facts, briefly told. From his early youth Ver- non, the historical painter, had served in the heavy cavalry. He was a bold-spirited fellow, endowed w r ith a very keen intellect, and exuberant gayety. He had a soldierly carriage, hooked nose, piercing eye, and moreover, was the legitimate son of the nurse of a person who occupied a very high station. These circumstances procured him numerous and warm protectors ; but he was worthy of fortune's favors both as cuirassier and artist, being in the one profession brave as his sword, and having also proved his vocation as painter by executing numbers of charming little pictures in oil and water colors, since his admission to the regiment. This taste and vari- rious other reasons induced Vernon, already a rich man and major of cavalry, to sheath his sword and devote himself to the cultivation of art. He bought a house, had a large studio built, and under the in- fluence of the maternal star, became almost insensi- bly the most popular of hosts, and most renowned of the artists employed in taking the portraits of the dignitaries of the country. Although his two pupils, who greatly assisted him, could sketch and color, the works of this master are not chefs-d'oeuvre. This is readily admitted by all, even while loudly praising his unique, effects of light and shade, and the wonder- ful finish of his accessories. Whether with or without reason, the portrait-paint- er, who had quickly become famous, found himself overwhelmed with orders. To sit for one's picture in his celebrated studio, was one of the most delight- ful of occupations. All the floating rumors in Paris centred there ; the journalists came for news, and a constant succession of people of all kinds came and went from morning till night. The pleasant evening receptions that Vernon organized gave the finishing- AROUND A SPRING. 47 touch to the popularity of his mansion. It was a favored spot, a sort of neutral ground, where, thanks to the unceremonious style of living natural to one half artist, half soldier, he succeeded in creating re- lations and friendship between people who would otherwise never have known each other. Men of pleasure, bankers, journalists, politicians, capitalists, and racing men met each other there, while Parisian exquisites, the flower of French aristocracy, fell into the habit of taking it as a place to exhibit their graces .and elegance. This truly Parisian circle was natural- ly the fashionable coutisse for aristocratic curiosity- seekers. The studio contained wonderful rarities, magnificent furniture, jewels, and splendid tapestry, which came from nobody knew where, and were con- stantly renewed. " Here is something I have found," said Yernon ; " what do you say to it ?" " It is very elegant, gentlemen, exquisite enough !" murmured Claudius in a low tone, turning the ar- ticle thoughtfully around, then raising his voice : " Vernon, you don't know what you have there." " And who told you I didn't ? It is a beautiful ivory carving, a hunting-horn belonging to the six- teenth century, adorned with the arms of France, neither more nor less." " Vernon, my dear fellow, a hundred louis," grunted fat Marsoff. " Ah ! the deuce ! I will take it at that price," cried Claudius. " Will you make an exchange ? " " No, I assure you that I do not care to give it up, my good fellow. You are very kind, but I don't want to part with it." " But, if one offered you " " Ah ! faith, if I was offered" " Three hundred louis, Monsieur Vernon," said Lord . " You overwhelm me, your lordship. How can I 48 ABOUND A SPRING. resist you ? Oh ! my poor ivory ! At least be grate- ful to me, my lord ! " One thing Vernon had not thought of, the atten tion that his famous receptions must necessarily at- tract among fashionable women. If my memory is correct, it was the Duchess of Blanmon who first ex- pressed a desire to enter the cuirassier's studio. The duchess was not a woman to relinquish a plan she had long meditated, or one easily daunted by difficul- ties. By the help of Claudius, the artist's sleeping- room was transformed into a little parlor, which com- municated with the garden by an outer staircase ; the door leading into the studio was replaced by a cur- tain, and one fine evening about midnight, the duchess arrived, wrapped up like a conspirator, and followed by three of her friends. All passed off smoothly ; unfortunately the frolic of these aristocratic ladies became noised abroad, and two days after, eight cu- rious persons arrived, coming directly from the Stabat of the Italiens, where they had agreed to meet. The following week, the little parlor was as full as an egg and scented like a perfume case. All the ladies, lis- tening eagerly, were grouped before the curtain, which they drew aside by imperceptible degrees. They pressed and crowded on each other as if in the vestry of a church at some wedding, restraining their bursts of laughter with great diificulty, and whisper- ing questions to the master of the house, who did not know how to reply, and found himself amid these surroundings like a lady-bug buried in a bouquet of flowers. " My dear Vernon, you say that the tall blonde yonder, talking to the ambassador, is Amelie Saint- onge ? Well, to be just, she is extremely beautiful Ah ! there is the famous Tambourine. Good Heav- ens ! my husband is kissing her hand. Oh ! oh ! la- dies, just see my husband kissing that horrid Tam- bourine's hand, and with such an air ! " AROUND A SPRING. 49 "Dear me what a pretty creature! Ladies, I wish I were a man, only It is funny to see all these jades. When one thinks " " That they are as pretty as we." One evening, by the merest chance, the famous curtain was drawn aside almost half-way and remained so. A few timid women, who had no strength of character, vowed that they would never again set their pretty feet in Vernon's studio, while others, bolder, and avowed lovers of progress, accepted the fusion, a very discreet fusion, be it understood, skil- fully managed, without embarrassment or confusion, and protected by the artistic element which pervaded the whole circle. It is undeniable that Vernon's studio had a very considerable influence upon the manners of the times not that the ex-cuirassier was a man of genius ; he was entitled to no other merit than that of following his own impulses and taking advantage of events just at the right time. The Duchess of Blanmon, who ia by no means wanting in sense or intellect, said a cap^ ital thing in regard to this. One evening, in a circle of intimate friends, when Vernon alluded to certain matters, and seemed disposed to claim an importance in the political world which he did not possess, she turned to him, and in the picturesque language she was fond of using, said : " Be quiet, my good little friend, you are a convenient tool, nothing more." Such was the famous studio in which Count de Manteigney was to meet the father-in-law he so greatly needed. For the rest, Claudius had, as usual, given proof of most excellent judgment in selecting Larreau. 50 AROUND A SPRING. vn. The ex-spout-maker was rather inclined to obesity ; but as he was no fool, contrived to turn his stout figure to good account, and, aided by the prestige of being a millionaire, might be said to have a stately presence. His high, bald forehead was apt to be- come easily flushed. At the extremity of his little short arms, which looked like a pair of fins, were two plump, dimpled hands, which were usually held clasped together on his white waistcoat. His whole person expressed the most charming good-nature. His smooth face, rosy, and well shaven, invited confi- dence, and his right eye, with which he beamed on society, was overpoweringly benevolent, if I may so express a charm which is exceedingly difficult to de- scribe. True, the left eye somewhat belied its com- rade's excessive affability ; but he very rarely opened it never, except when occupied with business mat- ters. This eye, which was generally moist, shone like a diamond, was sharp as a needle, and I do not think it would be possible to find one more keenly observing, or better calculated to search the most se- cret thoughts of another. It was doubtless from mo- tives of precaution that he yielded its remarkable virtues under the shadow of his heavy eyelids, there- by imitating those skilful surgeons who conceal their instruments in a case, and do not draw them from their covering until it is time to operate upon the patient. Only a very small number of persons, compara- tively speaking, were thoroughly acquainted with the capitalist's left eye; so that people in general felt most irresistibly attracted towards him. They were touched by seeing a man of such enormous wealth and immense influence remain so simple and affable AROUND A SPRING. 51 in his manners to every one, conceal nothing of his laborious past, and, most remarkable, carry his self- denial so far as not to change his name. They said to themselves : " Here is a financier of the old school, such a man as one does not see now-a-days." When in society, his honesty, nice even to intolerance, was displayed by constant outbursts. If the name of some famous banker or well-known merchant were pronounced, even in a low tone, he would exclaim, interrupting his game of whist, "That man? he is a rascal ! " And his brow would flush so suddenly, he would utter the condemnatory word in such a sonorous voice, that the rudeness of the expression was par- doned out of respect to the virtuous wrath which in- spired it. Yet he was not naturally quick tempered. Gifted with intellect, calm and watchful in the midst of the whirl of modern ambitions, terrified by nothing, he was capable of accepting all progress, whether forward or backward, provided his mind and capital found an opportunity of taking part in it. In all sincerity, he was both democrat and legitimist, no one could be more liberal, and yet at the same time a most inflexible ruler. He would have held up both hands to vote for compulsory instruction, would have voted that the gendarmes should compel every Frenchman to buy a grammar and ABC book, but on the express condition that he, Larreau, should have the monopoly of the sale, and become, without any possible competition, the sole and only book- seller in his country. You see that in saying : " Here is a financier of the old school, such a man as one does not see now-a-days," people judged only by ap- pearances; scarcely any one could boast of being more a man of the times than he. Certain people, to whom Larreau's operations had not been favorable, asserted that he had no principles, an accusation all the more dangerous because it must 52 AROUND A SPRING. necessarily be vague, and leave a field for every va- riety of comment. The absence of a standard prin- ciple, which might serve for rule and measure, being generally felt, each judges his neighbor's by his own, and great is the confusion which results. Far from being destitute of principles, Monsieur Larreau pos- sessed many on which he could rely; for he had carefully tested them all, lest he might have some oc- casion for regret. Nevertheless, if any one had com- pelled him which would have been no easy matter to express, in a few words, his firmest convictions, he would have replied : " I am a legitimist and a Cath- olic." These opinions had come to him by degrees, without his making the slightest eifort, and very slowly. As his fortune increased, and he acquired position and importance he felt the pressing necessity for surrounding himself with a more substantial bar- ricade, placing the structure of his prosperity under the divine protection and associating Providence in his plans, a natural feeling, which has led many souls into the path of safety. Claudius thoroughly understood the wealthy cap- italist ; so, when he perceived him among the throng that filled Vernon's studio, he did not attempt to find a plausible reason for speaking of Count de Man- teigney, but went directly up to him, and having drawn him aside into a corner, said abruptly : " My dear M. Larreau, do you wish to have your daughter married ?" " Certainly, my dear Monsieur Claudius, when I find a son-in-law who will suit her who will suit us, you understand." " I have one to propose." The rich man half opened his left eye. " One of your friends, my dear Monsieur Clau- dius ?" " The person of whom I speak is certainly one of my friends, and is utterly ruined." ABOUND A SPRING. 53 " That is truly a great recommendation ! you are in high spirits this evening, my dear friend. You say that he is utterly " " Oh ! there is not the least possible doubt about it ; but that is not all." " Make haste, I am dying of impatience." " My friend has a great reputation in Paris as a man of fashion fine manners, great attractions " " That will do afterwards, Monsieur Claudius, afterwards ; you are drawing your own portrait." ' " Confess that I could not make a better begin- ning. Let me go on. My friend is sole heir " " Let us. sit down, my dear Claudius, we can talk so much more comfortably." "Sole and only heir of one of the noblest names in France, and still possesses the castle of his ances- tors, the cradle of his race, with towers, precipices, draw-bridge, loop-holes, fortifications, court-yard a real feudal manor, partially in ruins, I confess ; for I will conceal nothing from you. The estates have been sold, but they can be bought back again. Here is an escutcheon to re-gild, and you could not find one more worthy of restoration. In one word, I am speaking of the count de Manteigney." The capitalist could not restrain an expression of pleasure, and his left eye, which during the shoi't con- versation had been constantly opening and shutting, became perfectly quiet. Claudius presented the two gentlemen to each other that very evening. Four or five days after, Count Jean received an invitation to a ball at the house of M. Larreau, who, after studying the map of the country and the Guide Joanne, set out the follow- ing morning for Virez. M. Larreau made his inquiries with skill and pru- dence, visited every part of the country, and found means to pursue his investigations for three days with- out arousing public curiosity ; in short, he returned 54 AROUND A SPRING. delighted, and showed himself willing to push mat- ters forward rapidly. He had met his bean-ideal of a son-in-law. In the meantime the count discovered that the capitalist's daughter was wonderfully charm- ing, in which he was perfectly right, and two months and a half after, to a day, the future couple signed the contract. If M. de Manteigney had been less eager to escape as soon as he decently could, from a situa- tion which threatened soon to become unendurable, it is probable that he would have thought twice before signing. The capitalist, in short, gave his daughter, by the marriage settlements, the most absolute control over her dowry, which was sixteen hundred thousand francs, six or eight of which, by the aid of the Virez notary, were invested in a portion of the estates be- longing to the ancient domain. " By this means, my dear count," said the rich man, " the estates of Manteigne are almost wholly restored, and will descend intact to your children, by the deed executed by their mother and yourself. The portion of the valley I have purchased in my own name, and retain, will return to the original domains after my death. I adore my daughter, and hope soon to win your affection. You see that I am already an old man, and I have cherished the hope that it might not be disagreeable to you to have me for a neighbor. I shall have erected on the reserved estate and it is the secret of its purchase a little house, hut, chalet, no matter what, where I can end my days in the shad- ow of your chateau. My tastes are very simple" After a short silence, he continued: " Unless you would receive me in any of the wings of your own dwelling in which case, my dear son-in-law, I should beg you to allow me to defray all expense of the ne- cessary refitting. Perhaps by uniting our incomes, we could maintain an establishment more worthy of the name you bear. It would make me very happy, I confess ; it would be a real pleasure to me in my old age to be present in some corner, and witness AROUND A SPRING. 55 the splendor of the princely style in which the ar- rangement I propose would enable yon to live. Do not hasten to answer either yes or no, my dear count, reflect upon the matter." Mile. Larreau embraced her father with tears in her eyes. The young man, dazzled by the vision of the elegant style in which he might be able to live ; intoxicated by the realization of a dream which flat- tered all his tastes ; persuaded that he would soon be able to control a father-in-law who seemed so full of good nature ; impatient to have done with the life of expedients which he had led for ten or twelve years, .appealed to on the ground of his gentlemanly instincts, accepted everything, signed everything, and was mar- ried with the utmost cheerfulness. There was no- thing better to be done. vm. Yet when Abbe Roche had returned home and exchanged his new cassock and handsome silver buck- les for his every-day dress, he experienced a sensation of great relief. His mind was disturbed, like that oi a man who has just awakened from a confused dream. Everything about his visit to the chateau appeared strange and incomprehensible, and occupied his thoughts more than he could have wished. There- fore, when mere Hilaire questioned him about the welcome they had given him, he said nothing, excep^ that he had been well received, and the good woman kept silent. At times he imagined that there w T as an impassa- ble gulf between these gentlemen, whom he had scarcely seen, and himself; he experienced an instinct- ive repugnance towards them, which he regretted so much the more because it seemed to be in direct contradiction to the profound respect with which he 53 AROUND A SPRING. had always regarded the nobility. On farther reflec- tion, he asked himself whether this impression was not, on his part, the result of undue pride ; whether the surprise of suddenly finding himself in contact with scenes of comfort and luxury, which made his own life appear more narrow and humble by the con- trast, had not rendered him too severe in his judg- ment upon these people of aristocratic birth, whose only crime, after all, was playing hot cockles without caring what people might say about it. Although he clearly perceived that his first impression was the cor- rect one, he argued against himself with a species of obstinacy. Did he wish these ladies to dress exactly like the girls and Avomen of Grand Fort ? Why was it surprising that the countess should treat her cure with ease and freedom, or that she should be as curi- ous as a spoiled child to make this half savage talk, and amuse herself by witnessing his embarrassment? What was there so very strange about her careless chatter ? She was young, rich, and noble enough to allow herself to act her own pleasure before a poor, unknown priest. It is certain that she was wonder- fully beautiful, and very singularly dressed; but what did he know about customs and fashions, and since when had ladies of high rank been forbidden to be remarkably beautiful ? Besides, why had he, the cure of Grand Fort, noticed all these things with so much interest and curiosity ? Was it in accordance with his position as a priest to linger around these earthly charms, w r hich God had commanded him to pass by with indifference ? Was he then so weak, so ex- tremely impressionable, that a woman could disturb his mind and occupy his thoughts? He told himself all this, was humiliated, dissatisfied, indignant with himself; then wishing to obtain an exact knowledge of his weakness, in order to correct it the better, re- called one by one the impressions he had felt; and all the details of what he had seen passed once more AEOUND A SPRING. 57 before his eyes, while in the depths of his soul, some unknown voice murmured : " You have humiliated yourself enough before the memory of these people. You are more noble than they, even in your shabby cassock ; you will soon read their hearts and find naught but a mass of wicked passions and vicious in- stincts, while if they seek to watch you in their turn, they will not be able to understand your thoughts and actions." To be brief, the abbe Roche did not return to the chateau for several days, and even avoided passing its doors. Once he met the countess's father, and on an- other occasion found himself face to face with the count and his friend Claudius, in the village streets ; but he contented himself with exchanging bows, and found means to cut short all conversation. These people terrified him. At last Sunday came, and from early morning the cure, thinking of the mass he was to perform, felt, in spite of his resolutions, as much agitated as on the day of his visit. He knew that the noble company would attend church; he saw in imagination their amused faces, the count's eye-glass, his father-in-law's white waistcoat, and the important, self-sufficient air of all. Would the ladies appear at mass in a, costume like the one they wore the other evening ? He shud- dered in spite of himself. How would they, accus- tomed to recline in those immense arm-chairs, which almost resembled beds, endure to sit on the narrow, hard, wooden benches ? Were they even clean and well dusted ? For the first time in his life he thought of these things. His poor church was so dilapidated, so forlorn, en- cumbered with ex voto and strange adornments! Ap- preciating the artless feeling which offered them, he had thought them poetical and touching; would they not appear very comical to these jesting Parisians, 58 AROUND A SPRING. who were accustomed to the stately ceremonies of the cities ? This disturbed him more than all the rest; lie loved his poor church so much ! Pre-occupied by these thoughts, he found his razors horribly dull, and rubbed them upside down on the leathern strap fast- ened to the handle of the door. " Monsieur le cure, do you know that it is twenty minutes of nine V " asked mere Hilaire, knocking at the door. " Yes, good mother, I know it. You can come in. Have you seen whether the benches in the church were clean enough ? " The good woman smiled, pleased that she should have thought of the same thing as her cure. " I have just given them a little dusting ; they are very nice now; but dear me ! they are old, and terribly hard for all these grand people, M. le cure. I said to my- self: ' If something could only be put over them ' you will not be angry, M. le cure. -People must not be driven away from the house of God, you know. Well ! I have a little bit of carpet that is just the thing; I have shaken and brushed it well. I might spread it on the bench, if you think it would be a good plan." " You have done well, mere Hilaire, but I have also a little mat before my bed, you might spread them both on. It would be better for the ladies." Abb6 lioche stopped short ; he was vexed that he should allow himself to be pre-occupied by such trivial cares when about to say mass. When he entered the vestry, the acolytes were dressed, the choristers ready, and all his parishioners waiting on the square. It was nine o'clock, and yet pere Butan dared not stop ringing, that the services might begin, for no one from the chateau had arrived. Two or three boys, who had played truant, muttered : " I would stop ringing, if I were you," but everybody else said, " Pere Butan is right, we must not make AROUND A SPRING. 59 the count and countess lose the mass." Fortunately for every one, and especially the cur6, who was wait- ing to begin the service, looking out of the little win- dow of the vestry and thinking that it was very hard to be forced to keep God waiting in this manner, a child ran up, saying that the ladies and gentlemen were coming. The crowd instinctively divided, form- ing in two ranks, and the aristocratic party entered the little square. The ladies, dressed a la Watteau's shepherdesses, were leaning on long flexible staffs, and seemed to be so exhausted by the little slope they had just ascend- ed, that they could scarcely stand upon their high- heeled boots. They had been obliged to cross on foot the short space intervening between the chateau and the village, for that portion of the road had not yet been finished and made passable for carnages. But the expedition had been cheerfully performed, if one could judge by their shouts of laughter. When they perceived that the square was full of people, the three ladies, who were walking in front, suddenly stopped. " Ah ! countess, see these worthy people taking off their caps," said Mme. de Rougeon, " they are waiting for us." " Really it is quite a triumphal entry ! What honest, respectful faces they have ! Look, dear, see all these little children. Oh ! I am going to pray. for them, it is the least I can do." " They are pretty little things," said Mile, de Rou- geon, " but they don't wipe their noses often enough." During this time pere Butan was pulling at the rope with all his might, and the poor bell tinkled its best, like some old singer who has lost his voice and has nothing left but a good style. All heads were bent, and the countess, moving slowly through her respectful vassals, bowed slightly to the right and left, murmuring in an undertone: " Good-morning, my friends my good friends; good- 60 AROUND A SPUING. day, little ones." She enjoyed it thoroughly, and strangely enough, thought of the Bois de Boulogne, where she had often seen a stately head bending in little graceful, sweeping salutes. The count followed directly behind the ladies, talking very eagerly in a loud tone to M. de Rou- geon, without taking the slightest notice of the per- sons standing by, and gesticulating with his little switch like a man engrossed in some important argu- ment. As to M. Larreau, he was watching his dear little countess with his right eye, and ready to bless the whole population. Two or three closely-shaven servants, stiff, erect, and unapproachable, closed the procession. The cure" had donned his priestly robes long be- fore. Alas ! they were shabby, well worn, and much frayed in certain places. It was all in vain that poor mere Hilaire, first washing her hands, Avrapped them carefully in a white cloth every Sunday ; she could not rejuvenate the old garments. While in the ves- try, whose door stood open, Abb6 Roche heard the rustling of silken robes, the sound of delicate boots, and the confused murmur of Parisian voices. His ear distinguished all this in spite of the noise made by the sabots and iron-shod shoes striking against the floor, and knocking the benches. He clasped his hands, closed his eyes, strove to abstract his thoughts, murmured fervent prayers, and reproached himself for his want of self-command, as if it had been a crime. At last, as they were now waiting only for him, he made a signal for the acolytes to move for- ward, and entered the church. He was obliged to summon up all his courage in order to advance the eight or ten paces which separa- ted him from the altar, so great was the singular emo- tion he experienced. He had determined not to glance towards the congregation, and kept his resolution. But he dimly saw the kneeling ladies looking around AROUND A SPRING. Gl them through their eye-glasses, and smiling at each other, while the gentlemen, with one hand thrust into their vests, whispered and twirled their mustaches. On reaching the steps, he knelt, and in a voice that trembled more than he could have wished, commen- ced the Introit, but soon grew calmer, as his up-raised glance rested upon the crucifix that surmounted the altar ; his blood flowed more slowly through his veins, and he forgot all who surrounded him. The wooden Christ was a very shapeless thing, one might almost have supposed that it had been carved by some herdsman's knife, and it was covered Avith coarse, gaudy paint. Yet before this rude image the poor, solitary priest, destitute of family and friends, deprived of all that was claimed by the secret instincts of his nature, had passed the sweetest hours of his life. He knew every detail of the carving, so grotesque to others, so sacred to him. Each crack, each fracture of the worm-eaten wood, reminded him of some heart throb, a prayer, a tear, or a joy. Thus even those ob- jects least worthy of attention become poetical and dear to the man who has lavished his affection upon them. What do you care for the cut of the garment, the wrinkles on the countenance of the friend that holds out his hand to you, listens to you, and consoles .you? His unassuming appearance, on the contrary, invites your confidence, his plain face re-assures you, you love him all the more because strangers do not consider him attractive ; his charms are a secret, pos- sessed by you alone. The priest was touched by the thought that the good God of Grand Fort had made Himself poor and miserable, despoiled Himself of His divine splendor, that He might be better understood by His children, and had descended to their level through paternal tenderness. His heart, which was overflowing with repressed feeling, suddenly opened, he dared to speak, to confide everything to the good God who watched over the mountains, and after these 62 AROUND A SPRING. unreserved outpourings of his soul, he felt strength- ened and purified ; he breathed invigorating air, saw society under a loftier aspect, a divine glow animated him; he had a consciousness of being nearer that fire of love of which human affections are but the dying sparks. It was before this defaced fragment of wood that he had comprehended the grandeur and noble- ness of his mission, and had accepted his austere life frankly and cheerfully. He then believed his soul to be large enough to contain all humanity; thought himself sufficiently bold and courageous to be the pilot, who watches in spite of fatigue, and forgets wind and rain in the remembrance that the safety of those who sleep depends upon his vigilance and de- votion. The sacrifice had appeared to him a triumph, and the suffering a consolation. When, at the close of the mass, the cure turned to address a few words to the congregation, as he was in the habit of doing every Sunday, the countess was astonished at the expression of his face, the searching tones of his voice, the brightness of his glance, and the simplicity of his gestures. He was really handsome. " Our cur6 preaches admirably," murmured Mine, de Kougeon, as they left the church. " Yes," replied the countess. " I do not under- stand it ; and I have been wondering how he chanced to be cast ashore upon this desolate rock, hi this out- of-the- world, almost savage, village." " He is perhaps undergoing a penance ecclesias- tical discipline " " What an idea ! " " It does not follow that he has committed any very great crime. What are considered merely tri- fling errors in our circle, are regarded in others as un- pardonable crimes some affair of the heart for in- stance." AROUND A SPRING. 63 " You are right, his face tells the story plainly enough. Ah ! poor man ! " " Unfortunate priest ! " " I must leave you a moment. Perhaps we shall find means to learn his story some day. I am going to invite M. le cure" to breakfast, I am sure that he will not refuse me." Abbe Roche in truth could find no pretext for de- clining Mme. de Manteigney's invitation, and half an hour afterwards found himself installed in the great dining-room of the castle. IX. The breakfast was delightful, although much less noisy than usual. The ladies showed the cure the most gracious attentions, and overwhelmed him with little kindnesses. His noble bearing at the altar, his simple, manly carriage, had evidently produced a great effect. The dilapidated church was declared to be delightful, in spite of the opinion of the gentlemen Avho exchanged smiling glances. They could not look without emotion at the rude pictures, the ex voto hanging on the walls ; the recollection of the brave mountaineers kneeling bareheaded in the porch, drew tears from their eyes. Even the voices of the choris- ters, though somewhat harsh and untrained, had a meaning. " For my part," observed Mme. de Rougeon, " I imagine that that must have been the way that God was worshipped in the catacombs." " Take a little of the vanilla cream, dear Monsieur le cur6," said the countess, " you will not refuse a new parishioner." And the young wife, holding back with her left hand the numerous trinkets dangling from little gold- en chains among the laces that adorned her sleeve, ottered her neighbor on the right a pretty little heap 64 AROUND A SPRING. of perfumed cream in a silver-gilt spoon. Arin, sleeve, hand, spoon, and cream, were all bewitching, some- what too bewitching, if one may say so without wound- ing any one, for Abbe Roche, on perceiving the charming little picture, turned away his eyes, and an- swered gravely : " Thank you, I will not take any." "Must I tell you I made it myself in order to tempt you ? Well ! I won't say that, for I did not do it, but the cream is none the less nice. Come, Monsieur le cure, take it to please me." The cure accepted what was offered with a very perceptible blush. The idea of a serious man blush- ing so easily ! Ah ! well, perhaps if you had been in his place you would have changed color too. Mme. de Manteigney had, in truth, gazed at him with an ex- pression well calculated to disturb his mind : not that she was capable of premeditated coquetry in these delicate matters one must first of all understand one's self; but she had thought her own hand, holding the golden spoon, a very pretty sight, it was an artistic pleasure which all women know. She had naturally smiled at her hand, rather than the cure", and if it had been unnecessarily sweet, it was merely owing to the unusual delight afforded by the sight of her own charms. Yet the countess knew that the good abbe might misunderstand her meaning ; for she was seized with one of those little fits of coughing which, without dis- figuring you, permit you to withdraw a moment from conversation. It is a very difficult thing for a pretty woman to observe all the shades of amiability ; they allow themselves to be borne along by the spirit of improvisation, and when the charm of being attrac- tive leads them on, easily lose all discrimination ; the slope is so slippery. Coquetry has this peculiarity, that it is sufficient for itself: it forgets the public, tor it can do without it; and a woman who seems bent on our neighbors destruction, who has brought a whole arsenal into ac- AROUND A SPRING. 05 tion, has really no other intention than to try her weapons and renew her cannon, so that you will rarely see a woman I mean a woman who has the reputa- tion of being attractive distribute to each one the modicum of favor that is his due. With a priest, es- pecially, the just proportion is more difficult to pre- serve on account of his invulnerability ; and the ab- sence of sex, which is morally one of his privileges, gives them a sort of carte blanche. The certainty that nothing will be broken, tempts beginners in the art of shooting to try their skill they like to fire at a strong black-board, which is too solid to be broken, and yet capable of showing the shots it receives, and bear record of their successes. So, granting what I have just said, is it surprising that the countess, at sight of her plump, taper fingers, should have yielded to the temptation of making her smile as charming as her hand, and afterwards, by a scarcely perceptible manoeuvre, have raised the perfumed fingers that held the spoon within two inches of her cur6's nose, as he bowed his thanks. The singularity is, under such circumstances, the smile is not all. By some unknown sympathetic influence the eyelids droop coquettishly, the glance softens, the neck bends, and the body sways with unexpected grace, and that is how it happens, that, in the best society, a spoonful of vanilla cream may lead to very serious consequences. Fortunately these little accidents are readily pardoned among peo- ple who lead a fashionable life. Abb6 Roche pardoned it also, but he was much disturbed. At certain crises strange temptations why should it not be confessed ? had risen before him ; he had caught a glimpse of bewildering, fright- ful phantoms ; he had been tormented, poor man, as one is in some dream or threatening nightmare, but all had been a mere fleeting hallucination, which dis- appeared in the broad light of day. Confronted with charms whose too evident reality aroused the memo- ry of his former conflicts, he felt the danger to be a 5 CG ABOUND A SPRING. thousand times greater than before. He had judged the world as a whole, and from a distance; but he who surveys a battle from a mountain, and comes forth victorious in imagination, would certainly have far less coolness and courage if he descended from his height and mingled with the combatants. It was now with him as it would be with that man ; he no longer hovered over the brow of the mountain, but felt that he Avas entering into the reality of the strug- gle, and feared that he might lose his self-command in the melee. Already the view was becoming less clear : was he not taking the trifling details of a life with which he was unfamiliar for monsters ? Was he the sport of a delusion ? Why should he have these tremors,, whose cause he no longer dared to frankly ask himself? The more he listened, the less he un- derstood the meaning of their words; certain jests which roused a smile were utterly unintelligible to him. The very gestures of his hosts had an incom- prehensible peculiarity ; the tones of their voices, their mode of constructing sentences, every thing about them was strange to him. If by chance he un- derstood one of their ideas, he found it so different from his own that he would have preferred to have still remained in ignorance. "Is not my cream delicious, Monsieur Iecur6? " murmured Mme. de Mauteigney, casting an inquiring glance at the priest, for she was saying to herself: " I am going to have some fine sport in finding out what sort of a person this good abbe really is." " Excellent," he replied, without raising his eyes from his plate ; then drew his feet closer together lest his neighbor's dress might brush against them. " Incomprehensible creature," he murmured, " what is she hiding within her soul ; from whence come these bewildering charms ? Can it be a trial by which God is testing me ? " " Tell me, Monsieur le cure, how do you warm AROUND A SPRING. 67 your church in winter?" asked Mme. de Rougeon, rolling a tiny crumb of bread under the tip of her finger. " My wife is -what shall I say ? a singular wo- man. She always fancies herself at the church of the Madeleine or Saint Thomas Aquinas. Do you ex- pect to find all the refinements of our peculiar civili- zation in this wild region, my dear ? " " Papa is right," interrupted his young daughter, without the slightest ceremony. " This civilization is horrible ! " Abb< Roche looked at Mile, de Rougeon ; he was amazed that at her age she should have so decided an opinion upon such a matter. " True, my daughter, we are living in .a circle which is dele " " Yes, papa, deleterious." " Deleterious, certainly, and which, if I may dare to say so, is the negation of all of all " " Yes, papa, of all principles." And as the guests all burst into shouts of laugh- ter, except the priest, who looked on in astonishment, she added, pushing back the long earrings which touched her shoulders : " Papa dictates, and I arrange his ideas in words. That is why I think him right ; so, to preserve him from the deleterious air of Paris, I shall make him go to bed at five minutes of eight and give him some tisane. No more balls at the Ho- tel de Ville ; no more races ; no, that is all at an end ; no more races ! Those are also deleterious circles ! No more pere Hyacinthe, no more clubs, no skating, no anything ; instead, nice hot tisane with honey in moderate quantities; we will read the philosophers among ourselves, and if papa wishes to escape, cling to him and keep him with us." While the young girl spoke, Abbe Roche looked, at her intently. He was not only surprised, but grieved. G8 AROUND A SPRING. " The unhappy child." said he to himself. "What crime can this man, who looks old before his time, have committed, to be thus punished by his daugh- ter's contempt ? How he must suffer ! What idea do they give others of paternal dignity, filial respect and love ? Must one be deprived of family ties in order to appreciate their value ?" " Well ! " continued Mile, de Rougeon, " I have a still more attractive programme." " More of your nonsense, spoiled child ! " " Oh ! it is a very simple matter : we will stay here all the year round. M. de Manteigney shall let us one of his little towers, and we can live in it, far away from the demon of civilization. I will cut off my hair, mamma hers, and papa his, it will only be the work of a moment; we will put on little caps trimmed with a bit of embroidery, and as the church is not heated, order foot-stoves that we can go and sing at matins. M. le cure" will be so pleased. Papa can be bass. Ah ! that's not a bad idea, is it mamma ? " " Your youth and gayety are some apology for you, my love, but yet think my child " " If mamma is going to begin to preach like pa- pa! oh! dear." " My daughter, you are going beyond all " " Yes, papa, bounds. I am to be silent because papa wants to talk." " Yes, I do wish to speak, little rebel ! Oh ! be- cause I laugh, you think I am jesting. That is the way with our children ! Family respect, authority in short everything ; everything tradition I laugh, because you are looking at me with your lit- tle your little saucy air, you spoiled child ; that is of consequence; I am I am the word escapes me I am right." " Well ! for my part I think you were much more agreeable when you were wrong," observed the count. AROUND A SPRING. 69 " You are not at all amusing with your deleterious age ? Where did you learn all that stuff? " " My dear fellow, the moral is " " Well, there he goes again. It is not more than two years since I first noticed this infirmity in poor de Rougeon ; he used to be a charming man." " It is evident that they do not use the word moral in its ordinary sense," thought Abbe Roche, who had been very ill at ease during a conversation so utterly incomprehensible to him. "If that's the way you are going to attack papa. I shall defend him," cried the young girl, with a very pretty show of anger. " Good Heavens ! that child must be crazy," mur- mured the priest. Mme. de Manteigney, perceiving that Abb6 Roche's manner was becoming more and more con- strained, suddenly changed the conversation. " My dear cure, tell us who is that singular looking person who has already been here two or three times. Where does he go, and from whence does he come ? Is he a human being ? He has a huge beard, half red, half gray, eyes like a rat, and a nose that looks like the beak of some bird of prey ; his clothes are all gray, just the color of the rocks. Oh ! he is such an ugly man. I will add that he always carries a basket of cheeses. I am afraid of him." " You undoubtedly mean pere Loursiere, Madame. Your fears are exaggerated, I think, though in his youth he committed some faults for which he has reason to reproach himself. His life has been an ad- venturous one ; he has been occupied in various pur- suits, and travelled hi almost every part of the world ; but at the present time I do not know that any thing very serious could be alleged against him. He is a shepherd, and watches the flocks which the people of the village and market-town confide to his charge, that they may graze upon the lofty mountain pas- 70 AROUND A SPRING. tures. He lives with his daughter in a lonely hut on the edge of the pine woods." " What ! is the little savage who also comes here occasionally his daughter? The strange creature with the large, deep eyes, muddy complexion, and slow gait ! " " She lost her mother at the time of her birth, poor child." " Ah ! she must have been grown up ever since she was born, the little witch," murmured Claudius. " I think so too," said the count. And Mme. de Manteigney, repressing a slight shiver, asked : "Isn't that ugly man something of a sorcerer himself? " " There has been such a rumor," said the priest, smiling ; " but his principal distinction lies in making very good cheeses, and I do not think he has any other." " Excuse me, Monsieur le cure, he is a remarkably intelligent man, and has a great deal of information. I have talked with him, and especially in geology " " So you understand geology, Monsieur Larreau ? " asked Claudius. " I ? not much a little, just sufficient to amuse myself, and judge of pere Loursiere's " The countess rose, interrupting her father : " Don't say any more about that hateful family, I beg of you ; they frighten me I dreamed of them all last night." " Indeed, and I dreamed of the daughter, a sin- gular coincidence." So saying, M. de Manteigney uttered a little harsh laugh. "I do not like such jests," said the mistress of the castle, and the cur6 noticed that she bit her lips. AROUND A SPRING. 71 M. Larreau, who had taken very little part in the conversation during breakfast, but had found time while eating heartily to occasionally half open his famous left eye and watch the company, took the curb's arm as they left the table, and after pulling down his huge white vest, which was always inclined to slip up, drew the priest out upon the lawn. " Ah ! " thought the countess, " my father has taken the cur6 away from me. He is determined that I shall not have an opportunity to make my enigma talk." " Don't you smoke, my dear sir ? " said the cap- italist, in his soft, friendly tone. " A little, but not at this season of the year." " Please accept a cigar." " Thank you, but I only smoke in winter, when we are imprisoned by the snow, and besides, I do not know how to use anything but the short pipes of this region." " Then, as it does not annoy you, permit me to light my cigar ? " And as he touched it to the yellow flame of a wax match, he compressed the tobacco be- tween his short, plump fingers. " Confess, my dear cure, that this is a charming view ; I cannot tell you how deeply I am moved by the magnificent scenery." " True, Monsieur, our country is very beautiful, but unfortunately it is the will of Providence that the superb landscape you admire should wear a stern face to the poor. The poverty of this population is very great, and their labor extremely severe." " I understand you ; there is much to be done un- doubtedly. It gives me pleasure to see that you are not blind to the humanitarian and social importance of" " Humanitarian social " 72 AROUND A SPRING. " Yes, yes, I have thought just as you do, Mon- sieur le cure " and he added aside : " He is timid, we must set him at ease. The prosperity of a coun- try, you know, depends entirely upon an active and regular intercourse." " Intercourse ! but I do not " " You will tell me, I know, that these superb mountains are the most difficult of all obstacles to surmount ! they are the miserly guardians of their immense wealth until the day when the intelligence of man of a man finds means of levelling heights and filling up abysses." Larreau was no simpleton, talking at random. He knew perfectly well that he should bewilder the priest by this somewhat pompous and confused preamble; but this result was by no means unpleasant to him. lie wished, first of all, to make the abbe understand that he was a thinker, a capitalist, on whose elevated views of life he might rely. The cure, with his eyes fixed upon his interlocutor, listened in silence, proba- bly thinking that by degrees he should comprehend his meaning. After the frivolous chatter at the breakfast table, these grave words, and the pleasing manner of the man who uttered them, had an especial charm for him. He was doubtless about to find some one with whom it would be agreeable to converse. Unfortunately the countess suddenly approached, car- rying a cup of coffee, which she coquettishly presented to him. " Very little sugar, if you please." The lady took up the shining sugar-tongs, and be- gan to look for a small lump in the bowl held by Mine, de Kougeon. She searched and searched " Is not this piece too small, or how will that do ? Wait, wait, we will suit you exactly." IShe assumed a thousand pretty attitudes during this occupation ; the pearly skin of her wrist, threaded with its blue veins, challenged the attention, and en- AROUND A SPRING. 73 circling its satin smoothness, gleamed a golden brace- let whose suspended trinkets tingled against the edges of the sugar basin. Abbe Roche did not understand how so simple an act could furnish an opportunity for the display of so many subtle graces, but he was by no means impa- tient, and, to tell the truth, might have remained much longer as an observer of the difficulties of sweetening, without complaining. " And you, dear papa, will you have some coffee ? " asked the young wife. " Thank you, my darling." " Just think of it, my father cannot be persuaded to give up that horrible white cravat, which, tied in that way, makes him look like a country bailiff. For eight years, Monsieur le cur6, I have suffered from the old-fashioned dress in which my father glories. At least, let me re-arrange the knot?" She approached M. Larreau, whose face brightened till his left eye could scarcely be perceived, and with the artless manner and affected childishness of a boarding-school miss, altered the tie of the cravat, drew down the ends, thrust her slender little fingers into all the corners, retouched and patted her work, half closed her eyes that she might the better judge of its effect, then throwing her arms around her father's neck, kissed him most affectionately. " There is a greatly improved papa, isn't he, Monsieur le cure ? " And she turned away. " Isn't my little countess charming, Monsieur Roche ? " said the capitalist, earnestly. " Certainly," answered the cure, " certainly. Were you telling me that mountains were an obstacle, and that intercourse humanitarian I did not exactly catch your idea." " Well, my dear cure, I have no one else in the world. You do not understand a father's feelings. I love her with my whole heart, the dear little thing. 74 AROUND A SPRING. She does just what she pleases with me. Ah ! ah my little countess ! How stylish she is ! What do you think of her ? She has such an aristocratic ap- pearance ! " Even the tones of his voice changed as he spoke of his daughter, and his face assumed an expression of delight. Nothing of all this escaped the priest's attention ; " Mme. de Manteigney appears to be very fond of you, Monsieur," he replied. " Oh ! you do not know her, you have merely caught a glimpse of her. My daughter is an angel ! " There was a moment's silence, during which M. Larreau looked at the priest with a defiant smile, that seemed almost a challenge. " I do not doubt it, I do not doubt it." " You must know that I have always lived for my wife and daughter; family affections are deeply root- ed in my heart, Monsieur le cure. I have worked during my life, worked very hard ; but may I be hung if I ever spent even two hours without thinking of my dear little daughter. It gives one courage, you see. The day after she was born, as I saw the little chenib moving restlessly among her wrappings, I felt that my life began to have an object, and swore to make my daughter a great lady. I have not managed my affairs badly, as you perceive ; besides giving her a title, I have amassed a few crowns for her use. I am very rich, M. le cure" ; I do not pride myself upon it in the least ; but I am very rich." As he uttered the words, he twisted his cigar carefully between his fingers, which seemed to have grown a fourth longer. " It must be confessed," he continued, " that she has adapted herself to circumstances wonderfully well, and does not appear to be any more inconveni- enced by her countess's coronet than I am by my night-cap. If you could see her at a ball ! Between ABOUND A SPRING. 75 ourselves there is not a duchess in the Faubourg Saint German who is a greater lady than she, and that without the slightest affectation, with perfect ease ! How can I help loving her ! A father's heart is very tender. And then it is my creation, my work. There, do you see her now ? She has just made one of her charming puns. They are all listening, every- body around her is laughing. Ah ! good, there they go again. There is more wit in her little finger than in all their brains united. They are perfect starlings : oh ! I make no excuses for them. They must have shocked you at breakfast. I have a horror of this empty, noisy loquaciousness in which every one seems to make a point of saying exactly the opposite of what he thinks." " But why should there be so much dissimula- tion?" " What would you have ? it is the fashion. Well ! Monsieur le cure, she is no more embarrassed when, glittering with jewels, she enters a ball-room, than you see her now. My daughter amazes me. Yes, she amazes me by her style, her aristocratic bearing. And she can be so haughty when she chooses. I have sometimes heard her reprove her head coachman she was so cutting I could hardly help embracing her on the spot. My son-in-law is not so bad, as far as he goes, but he does not come within a hundred feet of his wife. How do you like the count's appearance ? " " Very well, Monsieur, very well." " And I don't like it at all. Yet I should wish him to be just as he is. Perhaps I will explain the reason one of these days." Then suddenly, with an outburst of frankness and cordiality, he exclaimed : " Monsieur le cur6, 1 tell you plainly that I am extremely pleased with you. No, don't be so modest, upon my honor I mean it. If I did not like you, I should say so, for I am as true as gold. Your i'ace expresses integrity, and 76 AROUND A SPRING. if you will allow me to say so, a great deal of intel- ligence." The priest's smile had a tinge of irony. " What is his object," he thought ; " for what motive is he saying all this ? " " And the deuce, my dear cure", it was God who made you so ; there is no occasion for blushing. I do not know your origin, but " " It is a most humble one." " Not more humble than mine, certainly I defy you to surpass that : I am an old spout-maker." The cure" made a gesture of surprise. " Nothing else, and I am not at all ashamed of it, on the contrary. I am rich, it is true ; but I have no personal graces, while you, my dear cure, have the bearing of a nobleman. You possess a famous capital in that" Abbe" Roche, vaguely understanding that the words contained something offensive, could not help blushing; perceiving it, the capitalist continued: " Listen : .each man seeks to make a mark in his own career, and dreams of success it is a matter of necessity that it should be so." " I think, Monsieur, that you are making sport of me." " You have everything, I tell you, the bearing, the gestures, the grace, the dignity, everything I will go farther, and assert that you are not in your rightful place while here." Larreau stopped before Abbe" Roche with the firmness of a prophet, and, thrusting his hands into the arm-pits of his vest, continued: "No false mod- esty; I know men ; people do not attain my position, as you may imagine, unless they understand them thoroughly ; well, you are not in your rightful place here, my dear cure", unless this parish, no\v so insig- nificant, should acquire " he made a hem ! and smiled " should chance to acquire an importance AROUND A SPRING. 77 which would render it worthy of you. You are ambitious so much the better ! I like that. It is indispensable to careers which are impeded by ob- stacles." " But, Monsieur, I " " Nobly ambitious, that is what I mean. You feel your value, and you are right." " Never has my conduct You judge me with- out knowing me." " Pardon me, I know what I am saying. Your glance, your face, everything about you denotes ener- gy, a love for conflict, a contempt of difficulties. You are placed in this out-of-the-way corner for some reason of which I am ignorant, and still young, ardent and intelligent, you desire to make your w r ay in the world and retaliate for the slight. What could be more noble and natural ? I have been in your posi- tion, and that is why I know your feelings. Consider me as a sincere friend, and let us understand each other." " You will oblige me by not adding another word," said Abbe Roche, who felt that his anger was gaining the mastery over him. " You know, my dear friend, that I say what I think, just in this way, frankly and plainly ; you must take me as I am." " After all," said the cure to himself, " this man may be only a fool and monomaniac. What should make him think of insulting me ? What wrong have I done him ? Besides, perhaps I have misunderstood his meaning." He controlled himself, and answered coldly, " Monsieur, I presume that I do not exactly compre- hend you. All that I ask is that you will wait until you know me better before forming your opinion of me ; I think you will then find I am perfectly well suited for my position in this parish." " Well said, very well said, I repeat. I admirg 78 AROUND A SPRING. frankness ; you do not wish to leave this region. I only esteem you the more highly for it,, since it is a proof of the correctness of your judgment." And, putting his arm unceremoniously within that of the priest, he continued : " Let us speak openly to each other, my dear friend. This country has a splendid fu- ture God has bestowed royal gifts upon it. See how beautiful is the sweep of the vast horizon ! Look at yonder mountains, with the silvery light upon their summits, they contain treasures which should be brought forth. These almost abandoned forests only need to be felled ; these valleys are as fertile as any in the world ; each of the brooks rushing into the plain has a motive power which can and ought to be made profitable. How much wealth there is lying under this virgin soil, only needing the labor of some well-sup- ported man ! In what, I ask you, is this earthly par- adise inferior to all the cities among the Pyrenees and Alps, to which all Europe resorts to scatter its millions. Bagneres de Luchon, Cauterets, Uriage, Evian, Aix, Vichy ? " " Do not the places you mention possess mineral springs, whose fame " " Well, and Monaco, and Baden, and besides, the mineral springs Excuse my entering into the details at present. Do not suppose that I purchased the es- tate of Manteigney at random, I have always put my capital into good investments. In short, trust to me, I have entered upon a grand and beautiful scheme, and I am not the man to draw back on account of ob- stacles, my dear cure. In accepting this noble mis- sion, devoting the remainder of my days to it, and in- troducing life, wealth, activity, industry and happi- ness into this deserted country, I believe that I am acting in accordance with the designs of Providence, and shall deserve the esteem of all worthy men ! let us think of all this seriously. Now, what do I ask, what do I hope for from you ? Sympathy, nothing AROUND A SPRING. 79 more your official, but sincere concurrence. I ask you to associate your advancement with my work, and aid it by the moral influence which is the result of your position." " Then you ask something of me ? I beg you, Monsieur, explain yourself more clearly." " Oh ! oh ! I see that you are like Saint Thomas," said the capitalist, \vith increasing gentleness and good nature. " You wish the thing to be made perfectly plain. Do not apologize : this caution does not annoy me, my dear friend; business is business." " So you are proposing some business matter ? What is it ? I am not at all familiar with such things. Speak to me simply, as you would to a child : I shall not understand you otherwise." " The word business slipped out unintentionally. The deuce ! it is a very ticklish affair," thought Lar- reau. " I beg you to excuse me, I never meant it is no question of business, the affair is simply one of sympathy, good- will, active benevolence, my dear cure. It is rather difficult for me, as you can easily compre- hend, to enter into all the details of this enterprise just now. Yet listen to me. The population of this country is full of faith and simplicity ; it is poetic, has a tendency towards the supernatural : valuable quali- ties. You have perfect control over them, you know their wants, their desires. During the ten or fifteen years that you have spent here you must have extend- ed your relations far among the mountains ; the neigh- boring cur6s are your friends ; in short, you have au immense moral influence. Now, it is very difficult to undertake anything in a country where one has not first won the confidence of the inhabitants. I wish for their happiness, their welfare, it is true ; but they must be made to understand this, and you alone are in a position to explain everything to them. Prej- udices are obstinate, habits tenacious ; it is for you, my dear cure, who understand how to appeal to their 80 AROUND A SPRING. minds, to present the benefits which will result from my work in a favorable light." The priest concentrated his whole attention, in or- der to comprehend M. Larreau's words. In the midst of the confusion of his thoughts, he said to himself: " Perhaps, after all, his intentions are good ; the pov- erty is very great, there must be much to be done." " And then," continued the capitalist, " there ought not to be the least doubt of each other. Nothing can or should be attempted without the aid of religion. If you are anxious about my personal opinions, I can re-assure you, for I am a true Catholic. Progress, in her advance, must be illumed by the torch of faith. These simple words say more than a long speech. Without being what is called a devotee, lam thorough- ly sincere in my belief. I practise it as a man ought in my position'; and I really think that Catholicism is the only barrier that can be opposed to the flood of wicked passions, the only barricade that protects the grand principles of social life, respect for authority and wealth." " The love of God is higher than all that, Mon- sieur." " Do I not trust in the love of God but, pardon me the jest : I have more faith, from 'a practical point of view, in the fear of the devil. Look you, my dear friend ; we do not win murderers by the promise of the cross of the legion of honor, but awe them by the threat of the scaffold ; and when we walk at night with money on our persons, in unsafe suburbs, it is better to have a good stick in the hand than a bundle of tracts in the pocket. I speak to you frankly, for you are a man who can understand me." Abbe Roche felt the blood flushing his brow. It seemed to him as if he had just received a blow in the face, and no longer able to control the indignation which had been too long restrained, he was about to AROUND A SPRING. S] reply as he felt, when Mme. Manteigney suddenly came tripping up. " Well, gentlemen, have you determined to desert us ? Come, we have arranged a game of cricket, and I bet against Monsieur le cure." " I am very sorry, Madame, but they are expect- ing me at church, and the vesper bell will soon ring." " Then I must not delay you ; but you know that I am going to pay a visit at your house. You prom- ised to give me a list of the poor people." When the cure had gone, the young countess took her father's arm. " You won't wear that ugly white cravat any more, will you, dear papa ? It makes you look like your lawyer." " Yes, countess yes, my darling, I will give up the white cravat to please you." ' " Tell me, father, what do you think of our cure ? " " Oh ! my dear child, he is certainly no parvenu." " You think so, really." " He is extremely clever, and sees the whole bear- ings of any matter very clearly. He is also cautious, cold, and circumspect." " Then he is an incomprehensible man. How did he happen to be' the cure of this insignificant village ? " " There are certain occasions, my darling, in which we must recognize the finger of Providence, which prepares events and regulates means of action." When Abbe Roche reached the end of the terrace, he turned, before proceeding on his way, and saw in the distance the father and daughter, walking side by side, and arm in arm. They looked as if they enjoyed each other's companionship. The young countess's dress, with its floating train, swept over the grass, and the fair hair and white robe made a charming con- trast relieved against the green trees. The cure un- doubtedly had an instinctive appreciation of colors : for he followed the countess and her father with his 6 82 AROUND A SPRING. eyes until they disappeared behind a clump of trees. Then he continued his walk. In the court-yard, the head coachman was exam- ining a carriage, from which the horses had been un- harnessed, and pare Loursiere, who had just arrived, accompanied by his daughter, and armed with his basket, was making remarks upon it. The cheese merchant bowed, on perceiving the cure". Abbe Roche, who did not particularly like the man, return- ed his greeting, passed him quickly, and went to- wards the door. Pere and mere Sappey were still seated side by side before their little mats. The good woman rose. " Monsieur le cure," said she, " have you spoken to our master and mistress about my husband's red breeches ? " " No, mere Sappey, not yet, but do not be anxious about it, the -matter can probably be easily settled. Does pere Loursi6re come here often ? " " Only too often, M. le cure, only too often ! We did not see him as you might say once a year, and now he comes with his daughter " Abbe lioche left the chateau, and turned to- wards the village. The road was bathed in sunlight, and the little brook, which flowed beside it, babbling among the stones, had never been more merry and enticing; but the priest remained blind to all these charms. One by one Larreau's remarks returned to his memory. He thought that he discovered the meaning which had escaped him, and now found the answer he had not been able to frame before. Had not this man asked him to use his priestly authority to aid his speculations to mingle God's name in commercial enterpi-ises ? Was not that what he had meant ? He was indignant, and angrily struck with his stick the grass and flowers that bloomed beside the brook; he wished to return at once to the cha- teau, explain himself clearly, and undeceive this man, whom he had perhaps encouraged by his silence to AROUND A SPRING. 83 say to him : " I am not what you think ;" then he checked himself, and with a revulsion of feeling, ac- cused himself of putting a false interpretation upon the words of the capitalist, who seemed so kind and affable to everybody, so affectionate to the dear little countess, to whom his life was devoted. He had spoken of enterprises, schemes to be accomplished ; but he had not mentioned their nature. Perhaps they might be honorable ones. He had expressed him- self, it is true, in singular terms, with a double mean- ing ; but was it not natural that he should judge of things as a man of business, a parvenu, a rich man, who could not separate the welfare of a country from its material prosperity ? At every step taken by the priest, the lizards bask- ing on the hot stones by the roadside rushed under the grasses and glided among the shrubs. The air was filled with the cheerful hum of insects, and there was a pleasant fragrance of aromatic plants and shrubs, mingling with the distant odor from the pine trees. Under any other circumstances the good cure, as he walked along, would have been happy, and thankful to God for his pleasant lot. He would have thought of the bowl players, awaiting him after ves- pers on the smoothly shaven turf of the little enclos- ure, under the shadow of the lofty chestnut tre'es, of his cheerful supper afterwards, sitting in the open door-way near his flowers, while before him was the radiant majesty of the sun, sinking behind the icy mountain peaks, and of his quiet slumber, when at peace with others and himself, he went to rest aftei the day was over. At that moment he was very far from such calm repose. He was endeavoring, almost obstinately, to excuse the capitalist. He only wished to remember the good words of the conversation. He saw him again, looking happy and cheerful, while his daughter coquettishly arranged his white cravat ; and, led on 84 AROUND A SPRING. by these memories, heard once more the sound of the bracelets striking against the sugar-bowl, and again siw the white robes sweeping over the lawn. All these recollections rapidly succeeded each other in his mind. He felt as if he had a double personality, and while Abbe Roche, cure of Grand Fort, strove to escape the remembrance of all that he had seen and heard at the chateau, a second self, who was no priest, but curious about novelties, ardent, free, and bold, sought to understand and recall the phantoms which the cure had just conjured up. XI. Abbe" Roche, to dispel these preoccupied thoughts, resolved to avoid everything that might interrupt the ordinary course of his quiet life, but, by a singular la- tality, which seemed as if it were the result of the malice of some fiend, almost all his sensations and ideas led him by more or less direct paths to the cas- tle of Manteigney, to the motley world which en- throned the countess. She herself returned to his thoughts more frequently than anything else : it was incomprehensible. Did he walk through fields bathed in sunlight, some corner of the landscape recalled the color of the young wife's hair, and if to avoid it he moved on more quickly and looked up towards the sky, the trailing edge of some fleecy cloud borne along by the breeze caught his eye, and in spite of himself, he thought of the lightness of the floating, half-disordered curls that strayed over her shoulders. Everything was a pretext to remind him of her, and one detail recalling another, they grouped around each other with marvellous rapidity, and he soon per- ceived her whole figure, saw her move, heard her speak. It almost seemed as if every word uttered by her lips had lodged in the poor man's ears and AEOUND A SPRING. 85 could not be expelled. Suddenly, without apparent cause, these words would begin to reason within him with such a semblance of reality that he stopped short, startled, like a man who lias been unexpectedly clapped on the shoulder. It appeared to him as if it were not one of the vague impressions whose remem- brance is preserved by the mind, but the continuation of an actual iact. He heard the countess's voice, per- ceived its musical accents, its soft vibrating tones. The singularity of the phenomenon to which he was unwillingly forced to yield, irritated him extreme- ly. He was in despair at being compelled to hear, even when he did not listen. He attempted to take himself to task, and entered into a profound analysis of his sensations. What was it after all ? A singu- lar quivering of the tympanum, caused by peculiar vibrations in the air, nothing more. If the same sen- sations were frequently renewed, it was because, by an inexplicable but purely physical iact, the air obsti- nately continued to vibrate in precisely the same man- ner. That the result was agreeable to him, instead of being painful, was of very little importance ; a skilful physician would have explained it by figures ; undoubtedly it was only a scientific detail, which might be readily expressed in a formula. It was very clear that, under any circumstances, moral sympathies had nothing to do with this phenomenon. It was not the attraction of two souls mutually seeking each other. What bond could there be between the count- ess and himself? He did not know her well ! had scarcely seen her. Thus the priest, in seeking to di- minish his anxiety, and regain his usual calmness, threw himself, with singular energy, into the depths of the most radical materialism. Yet, if he shook himself free of it, with unconquerable repugnance, it was only to encounter other embarrassments which were equally annoying; for, if the ever-recurring re- inemb ranee of the couutess was only a physical phe- 86 AROUND A SPRING. nomenon, he must confess himself to be the servant, the slave of his senses, subject to their caprices, a vic- tim of their phantasms. Never before had he been compelled to endure the insubordination and revolt of these vassals, and he felt humiliated by it. His soul must have become very weak and impotent, if it no longer had the power of self-control ! He wished to sternly punish his rebellious thoughts, but how ? Had he not reason to reproach himself for weak- nesses and culpable negligences, which were the first cause of this insubordination ? Abb6 Roche did not then know the secret of the uneasiness of which he was a victim. What, indeed, could be the cause of the pre-occupied thoughts which pursued him, irritating and humiliating him, like the buzzing and stinging of a swarm of insects, against which one can make no resistance ? It was not that he feared the future : the irrevocable vows that he had pronounced were like a divine and im- penetrable shield, beneath whose shelter he could live without any serious injury, and boldly front the world ; but as he did not wish to pursue his study of sensations that were unworthy of closer examination, he most earnestly sought for pretexts to absent him- self from the chateau. He called to his aid the mem- ory of Claudius and the Rougeon family, and strove to make his confused recollections of them more dis- tinct. He summoned them from the dark back- ground to which they had been banished by his prej- udices, and sought to give more vividness to the outline. He remembered, not without strong effort, their faces, their peculiar manners, their repulsive words; in imagination, he looked into their souls, and, utterly disgusted by the pictures he had drawn, determined to cease all intercourse with these peo- ple. He no longer said one word of the countess. In order to convince himself even more fully, he brought forward fresh arguments : it was to be feared AROUND A SPRING. 87 that a piolonged intimacy with the rich and happy of this world might divert his attention from his austere duties, and that amidst this earthly existence, this ex- cessive luxury and comfort, he might permit himself to be drawn into habits which he could not easily shake off. Would it not be said, also, that he accept- ed the hospitality of the chateau from effeminacy and indolence, in order to escape from the hardships of his simple mode of life ? What would his parishion ers say, whose existence it was his duty to share ? Such were the reasons he assigned. Besides, he liked to give himself curt orders, to be unhesitatingly obey- ed ; it w r as one means of proving his moral energy, which, with secret pride, he opposed to the theoreti- cal submission of his senses. In order to excuse and convince himself, he enumerated in his thoughts all the duties imposed upon him by his ministry, the sick to be visited, the poor, the catechism but he must have attached great importance to the necessity of ceasing all intercourse with the chateau, since it led him to such self-deception. Whatever might be the cause, faithful to the resolution he had formed, Abbe Roche strove with all the energy of which he was ca- pable, to occupy his time. He did so well, he com- bined visits, prayers, meditation and gardening so skilfully that he was at liberty only, during the two hours directly after supper, which had always been devoted to his evening walk. It was his time for thinking during a quiet ramble. The sun had set, night began to darken over the country, the women were still spinning at the thresholds of their doors, the men, seated on the stumps of pine trees, which had just been brought from the forest, smoked and talked together, and when the cur6 passed these worthy people, they exchanged a bow and good-eve- ning. How many times had the priest sat dowr among them, taking an earnest interest in the thou 88 ABOUND A SPRING. sand details of their monotonous, laborious family life ! Abb6 Roche was now less desirous to have these meetings and conversations ; he wished to be alone, and avoided the village, which had become noisy and excited. At this hour the inn, formerly so silent, be- came the rendezvous for the servants belonging to the chateau, whose Parisian gayety, wild songs, care- less self-possession, red breeches, white cravats, and style peculiar to aristocratic serving men, were be- ginning to attract the young peasants in the neigh- borhood. The cure, therefore, left his house by the side door and descended the path which winds along on the outskirts of the village, and turns to the cha- teau, or leads to the charming precincts of the deep ravine that serves as an enclosure to the manor grounds, according to whether the right or left hand turning is taken. This solitary spot, inhabited during the day by the goats, was utterly deserted at nightfall, and Abb6 Itoche liked to wander there, while the stars gradual- ly appeared in the heavens, and the sounds from the village died away. To judge only by appearances, it might be supposed that our cure was very illogical and inconsistent to walk in this direction. Yet he did so only to conquer his impressible senses more entirely ; he wished to render them accustomed to remain at rest in sight of the walls which might re- call the memory of the emotions that had disturbed him. He went there with his troubled thoughts, as one would take a dog out walking, whip aiid leash in hand. - The picturesque ravine, in whose depths the brook of Grand Fort, swollen by springs, became a lit- tle brawling torrent, contained one spot where the cure often sat. It was a sort of narrow platform, suspend- ed, so to speak, in space, among crumbling rocks and trunks of trees, half uprooted by the wintry rains and AROUND A SPRING. 89 autumnal tempests. When the moon rose there was a splendid view; on the left, a gap in the rocks re- vealed a portion of the valley, full of 'white, fleecy, motionless vapors, which resembled the depths of the ocean. Below, and nearly opposite to him, on the other side of the ravine, amid the fantastic forms of the gnarled, tAvisted chestnut trees, rose the old chateau, with its lofty towers concealed by sombre ivy, and its pointed roofs, covered with blue glitter- ing slates that reflected the moonlight in long lines of silver. The large glass doors of the picture-gal- lery and dining-room, illuminated by the lamps and candles burning within, could also be plainly seen. The twinkling gleam of the cigars, moving about among the orange trees on the Ja\vn, could also be perceived, and from time to time the laughter of the smokers, softened by distance and the murmur of the torrent, floated on the air. Often too the shadow of a woman, hooded and wrapped in a large opera- cloak, joined the gentlemen. The cur6 watched all this quietly, without by any movement expressing the least emotion ; but bit his lips sternly, when, in the shadowy outline of the phantom, he recognized the countess. XTL On one of these evenings, Abbe" Roche had been seated a few moments in the place I have just men- tioned, listening to the music of the torrent, and look- ing at the chateau, when he suddenly heard a loud rustling in the branches a few yards below him. The cows and goats were all in their barns at that hour of the night ; yet it was very strange that any one should come to take a walk in that steep place. He listened, and thought he heard two persons convers- ing in an undertone. Unfortunately the noise of the 90 ABOUND A SPRING. water prevented his distinguishing the meaning of the words. The two voices were almost equally sweet and shrill, though one was more drawling than the other. At last, either the speakers had approach- ed nearer, or the abbe had increased his powers of hearing by the intentness with which he listened, for he distinguished the following words : " Do you know, my little savage, that I almost lost my way in coming here? You are as lamiliar with every inch of the ravine as if you had browsed here like the goats; but let us stop now. How do you do this evening, my daughter? Dear me, you are in full dress ! " " So that my father asked where I was going in my Sunday clothes ? " And what did you say to your father? He has a famous beard, that papa of yours ! " " I told him I was going to the castle, to carry some of the cheeses made from the milk of our goats, and the moss the countess had asked me to bring her to place under the fruits. It wasn't true, but he be- lieved it, and said no more." " You are no simpleton, are you ? " " Xo, indeed, Monsieur le comte." ' Take off your cap, so that I can look at your hair. How thin your arms are ! " " I am just as thin everywhere." " But, to make amends, your eyes sparkle brightlyj little one. Have people often told you that you had handsome hair ? " " To be sure, Monsieur le comte, of course they have, and it's true : my hair is still longer than this, when it isn't in braids. Shall I undo them ? " " Is all this quantity yours ? " Whose should it be?" " You might have bought it, for you like to be ad- mired." " Bought it ? Is it for sale ? Oh ! if you want AROUND A SPRING. 91 to buy a little of mine, I should be very glad to dis- pose of it, for I have too much. Is it for sale, truly ? " " Certainly it is, little Velleda. Do you know how pretty you are, my dear, with your big eyes ? Turn this way, so that I can look at you. Are you always as pale as you are now ? " " It isn't my fault," " I am not scolding you, my darling. I like you just as you are : it makes your eyes seem darker, and your eyebrows too. Come and sit down by me. Well, don't be so uneasy ; I only want to kiss you. Are you not willing that the count at the chateau should give you a kiss ? " "Yes, Monsieur le comte, but if people knew it, they would think lightly of me, and then my father " Your lather, your father he is up there in his hut. We are alone. Are you not cold with that little neck-handkerchief? It is very small, my poor child, and your neck is bare." " Oh ! I am used to the evening mists, and be- sides " " Besides what ? " " It is the most becoming one I have, the others don't suit me." " I told you that you liked to be admired." " And I didn't say it was not so." " Then you are pleased when people say you are pretty, are you not ? " " That depends upon who says so." u When it happens to be I, do you like it ? " " Yes." " Then, you love me ? " " Yes." " Oh Heavens ! tell me why ? " " Do not hold me so close." " It is only to keep you from falling. Tell me why do you love me V Your figure is very supple, little snake you are like the pine trees, and the Avild 92 ABOUND A SPJlL\(f. thyme. Do you believe in ghosts ? Don't you hear voices in the darkness ? Tell me whether you believe in ghosts, little girl ? There, don't be frightened. Why do you love me, little witch. You came here astride of your broomstick, I know you did. Come, I love you because you are a savage, have beautiful hair, walk about barefooted, fear neither rain, wind, nor And you, now it is your turn." " Bless me, I don't know because because you are not like other people." " Oh ! she is a flatterer already." " Is your ring gold ? and these buttons too ? You have such white hands. If any one else wore a gold ring, it would be ugly ; but it looks well on you : and then, when you kiss me, your mustache smells so good." " Ah ! little witch, who taught you to say all that ? Faith, I would give a hundred of our dolls for you. Why do you love me ? " " You hurt me, you hold me so tight." " Once more, why do you love me ?" " You are the count " Well ! you are turning your head away from the count When I tell you to keep quiet, little wild goat ? " It was with great difficulty that Abb6 Roche had kept silence during this conversation. He had listen- ed with fixed attention and compressed lips, feeling his anger, as well as disgust and indignation, constantly increasing. Was the last of the de Manteigneys to bring nothing but trouble and wretchedness into the country ? While the servants disturbed the village with their noisy songs, was the master to mislead the maidens ? Had all these people determined among themselves to utterly demoralize the mountains. The priest remembered the instinctive aversion which he had felt at the first sight of this ill-formed, puny, impertinent little being ; then, by a logical sequence AROUND A SPRING. ' 93 of thought, suddenly beheld the woman who had mar- ried this baboon, and said to himself: u She is ex- pecting him now, and is perfectly undisturbed, poor woman ! " IShe appeared to be all the more pure a victim be- cause the count's crime seemed utterly monstrous. He had a most ardent desire to anticipate divine jus- tice, leap over the few yards that separated him from the speakers, and let the wretch feel the full weight of his stick ; then, in spite of his wrath, he thought of the scandal, the sorrow that the poor young wife would feel. However guilty he might be, the count belong- ed to an illustrious race ; he represented the noble family of the lords of Manteigney;and had he, a poor cure, sprung from nobody knew where, however just his indignation might be, the right to punish a cul- prit protected by long ages of nobility and grandeur ? Besides, this was probably only the beginning of their intimacy. The count was thoughtless, but surely in- capable of carrying matters farther and injuring a child who trusted him so frankly. His duty as a priest im- posed the necessity of acting with prudence and calmness. He would hud means of putting an end to the matter ; he would speak to the girl, who was not unreasonable he would do his best. These thoughts succeeded each other in the cure's brain with wonderful rapidity. Meantime, as he heard no more, and feared to lose his self-control if he remained longer, he pushed aside the branches that surrounded him, and forcing a passage, regained the narrow path by which he had come. As tiie brush- wood rustled under his feet, he heard the count's voice behind him, saying in a suppressed tone : " Who is there zounds ! who is there :* " Abbe Roche followed the path, not without some difficulty, for as he advanced among the trees, the darkness increased, and the way became more intri- cate. At last, turning to the left, he found himself 94 AROUND A SPRING. in the road that led to the village. He had not ad- vanced thirty paces, when he saw something white, under the shadow of the trees, which chanced to at- tract his attention. He approached it, and found him- self face to face with pere Loursiere's daughter, press- ing closely against the trunk of a chestnut tree, and staring at him with her large, wide open eyes. At the noise made by the cure, she had left the count, and taking the shortest way, climbing the steep slope like a roe, posted herself on the side of the road, very sure that whoever had interrupted them must pass that way to return to the village, and she might recognize him without being seen. Unfortunately, the cure had excellent eyes. " What ! is that you, Monsieur le cur6 ? " " Yes, it is I. Where did you come from at this hour ? where did you come from ? " " I came from beyond the path, down below, and I am going directly home it is late." They walked on for a moment without uttering a Avord. Abbe Koche felt that he was too deeply moved, and wished to calm himself before speaking. He had always loved the poor child on account of her delicate health and strange, pallid countenance, which resembled that of the mother who had died in giving her birth. The priest's voice at first had been stern and se- vere ; he continued in a mild, sad tone : " You are forgetting God, my child." " But, Monsieur le cur6, 1 came from the chateau on account of the cheeses." " Do not tell a lie, unhappy girl ! I tell you that you are forgetting God, who remembers and sees you. You know what I mean : we will speak of it at some future time. Go home to the father who is waiting for you this is your way." And the cure pointed to the path, bordered with AROUND A SPRING. 95 pine trees, that turned in another direction, a few paces beyond. " But, Monsieur le cure", I was coming from the chateau." " Do not tell a lie! Return to your father's house, be quick ; you must not be found here at this hour, and I hear some one coming this way. Make haste." They did indeed hear the footsteps of two men, who were coming from the village. Doubtless the turn in the road had deadened the sound of their steps, and Abbe Roche suppose'd them to be farther away than they really were, for they appeared almost immediately, arm in arm, staggering from side to side. " Good-evening, Monsieur le cure," said pere Sap- pey, " a very good-evening to you," and he added, with a singularly embarrassed manner, turning to his companion, who was one of the count's grooms : " This is my friend, Francois ; he offered to treat me, and now we are going back to the chateau. But who is that yonder running into the path edged with fir trees, Monsieur le cure ! I don't see double yet " Go home, and go to bed, pere Sappey, you need to do so, and your \vife is waiting for you." " But no, I don't see double. That is certainly Marie, Loursiere's daughter. Oh ! so you no longer pay good-evening to people ? Where did she come from at this hour, M. le cure ? How late young peo- ple go to bed now ? " " I came from the castle," cried the young girl, without turning. " Go home, you are late," said Abb6 Roche in a curt tone, " and you, Sappey, had better do the same." " I am not sleepy, Monsieur le cur6," replied the peasant, smiling in the usual manner of happy drunk- ards. " Isn't that so, Francois, we're not sleepy." " Perhaps Monsieur le cur6 doesn't care to sleep any more than we do," answered the groom, looking 96 AROUND A SPRING. in the direction in which the young girl had disap- peared. " The scoundrels ! " he murmured, clenching his fists, " the servant is worthy of the master." And he moved quickly away. XITL Abbe" Roche slept but very little that night ; he still heard the stupid laughter of the two drunken men. It was the first time that he had encountered such insolence in his parish, and his blood boiled in spite of himself. He also heard M. de Manteigney's shrill voice addressing Loursiere's daughter ! the scene in the ravine was painted by his imagination with vivid reality. He saw the puny little nobleman clasp- ing the poor young girl in his arms, gazing at her with mocking, bold, insolent looks. And while the priest vainly closed his eyes that he might not see, the emo- tions conquered in silence once more awoke within him. He thought of the tender affections which still sometimes appeared to him as most enchanting to contemplate, sublime, purified by the union of souls, and the benediction of God. The count seemed still more repulsive to him ! his feelings were not worthy the name of love. God would not permit the word to be sullied by being put to such a use. What was it but mere sensuality, in which the heart has no share. Had vice then a positive charm for certain char- acters ? He remembered the singular books, written in graphic style, in Latin, which had been put before him on leaving the university, and had left no more visible trace on his pure, upright soul than some passing nightmare does upon the mind. Had these books, filled with all the immorality of the human soul, which might have passed for the secret registers AROUND A SPRING. 97 of the police in Sodom, any foundation in reality ? Were they a faithful mirror in which certain men might recognize themselves? What was there lacking in the life of this infatuated count ? He had no toil or suffering. Was not his task the easiest in the world ? To be virtuous without effort or difficulty ; to walk uprightly in the pleasant path which God made smooth before him, doubtless that it might be more easy for him to guard the sacred virtues of which his birth made him the depository. The poor cure excused vice among the wretched of the world; but his pure heart could not under- stand it in this privileged nobleman, who had family ties, could enjoy all legitimate pleasures, and was so richly gifted that, having nothing to desire, he was shielded from the human temptations which corrupt and destroy in this gentleman who, in return for these benefits, had only to endure the delightful bur- den of gratitude to God. Must he not be a monster, and what could have been the design of Providence in uniting, with indissoluble bonds, such a being to that poor wife ? How she must have suffered how she must still suffer ! Was not her apparent frivolity, her incomprehensible coquetry, the extravagance of her dress, a mere mask, beneath which she strove to conceal the anguish of her heart ? How clearly everything was now explained ! The peculiar charm of her person was only that of grief. Instinctively he had formed a correct judgment of her. She sought to divert her thoughts ; she was a victim. Had she been a hundred times more coquet- tish and worldly, the tones of her voice, the dreamy expression of her glance, dimmed by sorrow, were sufficient to reveal her tender, suffering soul. She was not only unhappy, but had also the rare virtue of concealing her grief; doubtless she did not wish the world to despise the man whose name she bore, she desired to save the honor of the de Manteigncys, and 98 AROUND A SPRING. feigned these careless manners to avert suspicion, lie understood her now. All was explained, even to the caresses lavished npon her father. The poor, de- serted, insulted wife, scorned by this misshapen fiend, took refuge in filial love. Who among the brainless fools that surrounded her could sustain her by good counsel, cheer her with a kindly word ? "How many martyrs there are in this world whom only God knows ! " added the priest, clasping his hands. As he yielded more and more to the current of these thoughts, a feeling of the most ardent compas- sion and charity completely overpowered him. He shuddered in spite of himself. " Why should God have placed me in the path of this suffering soul ? " said he to himself; " why should He have permitted me to perceive its agony ? why should He have caused me to experience, at the first sight of this unhappy woman, such an extraordinary sympathy that I was terrified by it ? " The priest now dared to confess to himself the deep agitation that he had felt. It no longer seemed to him a mere physical sensation, for which a learned man could have given the formula, it was the emotion of two souls that God wished to bring together. Abbe Roche opened his window and inhaled the morning air. All around him was pure and fresh. The birds were singing in the gigantic chestnut tree that overhung the porch ; the sun was dispelling the lingering mists of night, and making the dew-drops trickling from the petals of the flowers that filled his garden sparkle in its rays. Among the various sounds of the morning might be distinguished the sheep-bells, whose silvery notes rang from the distance. It seemed like a promise a hope. Poor woman ! Was not the thought of her still more sorrowful, amid these tranquil, peaceful scenes ? He was in the midst of these reflections when he perceived Mme. de Manteigney herself, on the other AROUND A SPRING. 99 side of the little square, accompanied by two children, who were eagerly devouring a large slice of brown bread. The young wife wore an extremely cool and pretty morning dress. Her head was enveloped in a coquettish little hood, made of a sort of white, woolly lace, through whose meshes a narrow blue ribbon Avas carelessly twisted, as if to form a frame for her beau- tiful face, glowing from exposure to the morning air, while her large black eyes, sparkling amidst the white folds, seemed to warm the heart in spite of the intervening distance. When within a few paces of the house, she looked up, and smiled as she saw Abbe Roche. " You see, Monsieur le cure, I have made friends on the way, these are two of your parishioners. Don't you want to be my friend ? tell me, cherry cheeks ? " So saying, she patted the neck of one of the chil- dren, who was silently giggling behind his slice of bread. " Are you not astonished to see me out walking so early in the morning Monsieur le cure" ?" " It is a quarter often, Madame," said Abbe Roche. " What ! ten o'clock already ! Well, I sent word to Mile, de "Rougeon, who wished to come and visit you with me, and was told that she was not up yet. So I boldly set out all alone." While she said these words, the priest gazed earnestly into her face, trying to detect in some fea- ture of her countenance the signs of the deep grief to which he believed her a prey. " Are people admitted to your house, Monsieur le cure ? I have something to say " " Good Heavens ! what is the unhappy woman goirfg to confide to me ? " murmured the worthy priest. " You promised to tell me about your poor people. They shall be mine. Oh ! I wish to do good : I am anxious to perform deeds of charity, I shall go and 100 AROUND A SPRING. visit my proteges to-morrow, and carry them a quan tity of nice things, in spite of the bad roads. You do not know me; I have a great deal of energy when I undertake anything. Besides, tha doctor told me that I needed exercise. Oh ! how pretty your house is, my dear cure ! How happy you must be here ! It is so quiet, simple, and pleasant and these flowers around the window ! This is just what I like, what I have always dreamed of; a little retreat, a hermitage, silence, solitude, and Avail flowers. Would you be- lieve that they refused to let me have one poor little pot of wall-flowers on my window at the chateau ? I have such simple tastes, my dear cur6, 1 believe I was born to be a shepherdess. Don't you believe me?" " Can she confess her sadness more clearly, in spite of her assumed gayety ? " thought Abbe Roche, and added, not without involuntary emotion, u What could make you suppose that I do not believe you ? Words, I know, are often deceitful : the soul has its secrets. A smile on the lips may at first mislead, but" " I was sure," said the countess to herself, " that my cur6 had some terrible wound in his heart : I must not alarm him about it. By the way, I haven't told you that my white donkey is coming, the donkey that papa gave me to ride. I remember, now, that I did speak to you about it, only I have changed the color of the rosettes, they are to be crimson. What do you think of it ? " " I think that crimson rosettes will be very pretty, Madame." " Won't it be charming ? " She clapped her hands, and her eyes sparkled as if they were speaking of some very important matter. The cure's clear understanding of the case was be- ginning to get cloudy again. It was in vain that he watched her, with the most earnest attention ; her gayety was not feigned, or else she was impenetrable. AROUND A SPRING. 101 Was it possible that so young a woman could have strength and skill to dissemble her feelings so per- fectly ? Perhaps, after all, her unworthy husband had had the infernaj. art to deceive her concerning his conduct until now ; perhaps she was ignorant of the character of this accomplished rake. He now had only a partial belief in the utter wretchedness of the countess, and yet he felt his sympathy increasing as the idea which he fancied had given it birth lost its reality. Must not this poor child be very innocent to be so deceived, and were not her jests, artlessness, and trifling conversation a most convincing proof of her extreme candor ? " You know," she continued, " I should like to take my poor people some bottles of nice Bordeaux wine, tempting porridge, or sometimes a cutlet. All these things will be very difficult to transport, and very heavy to Sophie." " Who is Sophie ? " " My white donkey she is already christened." The priest could not help smiling. " You think me very frivolous, don't you ? Do not apologize, I read it in your eyes, and am not surprised ; but when you know me better you will find that, on the contrary, there is no one more serious. Oh ! if you want a frivolous person, one who is really so, you should see Mile, de Kougeon, with her aflected air, her extrava- gant conversation. She is a person who can be read at the first glance." " The young girl is undoubtedly a little " " A little ! Oh ! I protest against your, a little. My dear cure, say that she is remarkably so. She is unusually, unpardonably so. A little ! oh ! for in- stance ! but I have interrupted you ; excuse me. She is a little, you said a little what ? " " A little what shall I say ? " " Ha ! ha ! ha ! that is capital." "What is capital ? " J02 AROUND A SPRING. "Excellent! excellent! It is exactly so, she is much too what shall I say? She sacrifices every- thing to what shall I say. Take away her what shall I say, and what remains a doll, a pair of nippers." " Indeed, countess, I " You will be surprised, but I cannot endure her, nor her father either. That man is as irritating as a gutter." " Oh ! oh ! that is slander," said Abb6 Roche who in his heart was pleased with her severity " but why do you say as a gutter," he continued with some little hesitation. " Oh ! so everything must be explained to you ! Well, a gutter when it rains, a gutter that is always dripping, tic toe, tic toe. That is easily understood. M. de Rougeon reminds me of a walking bolster, don't you agree with me ? As to his wife " " Mme. de Rougeon is very agreeable, she seems so amiable, so " " She ? she is like a lemon under a peach skin." " A lemon ! you mean that she has a sour dispo- sition ? " " Mme. de Rougeon amiable ! If that woman should spit into the Seine, it would turn to lemonade, and her daughter is just like her, that is my opinion. Do you think me spiteful ? Confess that you do." "Rather severe," said the priest, with a slight smile. In fact he did not consider her spiteful. The prattle which a week ago had seemed absurd and in- comprehensible, now appeared full of grace and inge- nuity. He found a peculiar charm in this piquant irony, exaggerated though it was ; there was an at- traction in its childish candor ; then she accompanied her jests with such pretty gestures, emphasized her words with such bewitching little grimaces ! He list- ened to her with his eyes. How could he censure words that increased her beauty ? " You see, my dear cur6, 1 cannot approve perhaps I am a little too strict. AROUND A SPRING. 103 but that is my disposition I cannot approve of young girls wearing rouge. If you had seen her at the last naval ball, it was enough to make one cry out. And such a dress ! A yard of gauze, and a rose bud ! It is no use to say that sailors are never surprised at any tiling because they travel about so much ; I assure you that the little simpleton made quite a sensation. By the way, I can show her to you in her costume." " Oh ! Madame," exclaimed the priest. " It is only a drawing of the dress, I mean to show you. The illustrated papers all copied it." " Oh ! good Heavens." " You are amazed, are you not ? But I am not exaggerating." Abb6 Roche's face did, in truth, express the ut- most astonishment. " I pray Heaven, dear lady," said he, " that there may be some little exaggeration in your words, for I cannot believe that any young girl, in the midst of a civilized population, would appear in public in the repulsive costume you have just described." " Ah ! repulsive is just the word. She was so thin, her garments were so scanty, she looked so wooden, so what shall I say ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! " " But the rouge, I don't understand the rouge ; such things seem like the customs of savages ! I know that it used to be done ; but that is no reason " " That is what I always say ; it is like savages. To daub one's cheeks with rouge till one looks like a post-man behind time, is absurd. The old bundles may do it, I can understand that." " What old bundles ? " " Why, yes, I call them old bundles : Mme. de Vautin, the baroness de Fernac, the fat duchess of Blanmon. At that age, coquetry becomes a mad struggle a matter of life and death." The priest opened his eyes ; he was bewildered, uneasy, charmed, terrified by these fire-works. 104 AROUND A SPRING. " Ah ! well, they do as they like ; I can pardon them. Dear me ! who knows whether, if I were in the place of those old warriors, I might not do the same. Ha ! ha ! ha ! In life, one must weigh the pros and cons of everything; and not do to others what one woiild not wish others isn't it so, M. le cure ? " So saying, the countess looked around the apart- ment through her eye-glass, rose unceremoniously to examine something more closely, and then suddenly sat down again, exclaiming : " Do you know that you have a beautiful crucifix ; is it plaster ? " " No, Madame, it is a fine carving on ivory." t; You should say magnificent ; it is a work of art. But the velvet and frame ought to be renewed ; there is a piece broken. I have been searching, for more than a year, in every corner of Paris to find one like it. Now, my dear cure, to return to what we were saying, do not suppose that I am intolerant, and condemn society from the summit of my little ped- estal; it is not so, I am really very indulgent I, too, have my weaknesses, and am no better than any one else. I am well aware that a woman who goes into society must follow the fashions, and adapt herself to customs. It is the excess, the abuse of these things, that I condemn. Dear me ! I have worn rouge my- self once or twice for amusement. Now a tinge of black, under the eyes and in the eyebrows, harms no one, and forms a part of one's dress ; it is like a sip of Bordeaux when one is tired, it gives expression to the countenance." " You are very indulgent to " " To myself ? You are sarcastic, Monsieur le cure\" " What ! to yourself ! " " You are jesting, probably ; I suppose you saw at once that I pencilled my eyes ! Oh ! I don't deny it. I put a little brown there in the corner, and on the lashes, too, and then I stump them all around. AROUND A SPRING. 105 What would you have ? it is the custom ; but you have undoubtedly noticed it, it's plain enough." Abb6 Roche could not restrain an exclamation of surprise. He stood motionless with astonishment, with fixed eyes and parted lips, and instinctively clasped his hands. It was not indignation that he felt, nor the pious anger of the priest, against the guilty follies of the sinner, but the sorrowful surprise of a man who sees a beautiful dream disappear. The an- gel had false wings ! The touching expression of the glance that agitated him, in which he had fancied he could read the emotions of a pure and delicate soul, was the work of artifice ! Was there naught but falsehood and trickery in the world of which he now caught a glimpse for the first time ? And yet he clung to the vanished illusion, and said to himself: " She yields to the follies of society, she may perhaps change the expression of her eyes, but her gestures, her voice, with its musical tones, are her own ; the charming artlessness of her conversation" " You think me a coquette, and it grieves you," said the countess, who had murmured in an under- tone : " How strangely the good cure looks at me-! He makes me blush under his grave glance. How singular it is. Poor cure ! It is really very odd." She hastily drew off her glove of undressed kid, which was somewhat too large for her, and looking at the rosy, polished nails to conceal the smile that flickered around her lips : " Do you think me a flirt ? " she continued, with such satirical humility, such evi- dent impenitence, that she seemed to add : " Confess that I have good reason to be ! " All these subtle meanings escaped the cur6, or rather he yielded to their charm without understand- ing or explaining it. " I think all such things very wrong," said he at last, with evident eiFort. " You are right, M. le cure, strike, oh ! strike with- 106 AROUND A SPRING. out fear. I do not resist your blows, but you do not know how hard it is to escape the infection." " Oh ! undoubtedly you would not have done all this of your own free will, of course not. You have too noble a soul, for This ink, these paints all this exceeds the bounds of the imagination " He was in torture, for even while condemning these miserable artifices, he could not help looking at the face of the young wife, and confessing that the result was extremely pretty. " You would never have thought of these things if other young women around you silly, thought- less" " Certainly not. I think I have already told you so : if I followed only my own tastes, my own im- pulses, I should live I am not jesting, I should live in a desert, and wear a dress that cost fifteen cents a yard ! I have seen lovely ones. I should like to have it fit well, that is all. People think that we are amused because we go a great deal into society; they are wonderfully mistaken, I assure you. Oh, dear ! these pleasures are very empty, Monsieur le cure." " Yes, yes, that is true," cried the priest, with sud- den animation. The countess's remark had cheered his heart, it was a relief to him. She was only thoughtless, car- ried away by excitement and the example of others. " What would I not have given," continued Mine, de Manteigney, gazing at the ceiling with a heavy sigh, " what would I not have often given, to remain at home by my fireside, and not put on the uniform of a fashionable woman." " How could it be otherwise ? However power- ful may be the whirlpool that attracts it, the soul sometimes desires to reflect, to look within itself, and think of its destiny. Then all these false pleasures become insipid and pitiful." " That is not all : toilettes are not always success- AROUND A SPRING. 107 ful. At the last moment the waist does not fit, the hair-dressing is a failure, or one's eyes are red on ac- count of a cold in the head, which came on the very morning on leaving the church after mass, etc., etc." " Those are very trifling annoyances." " Ah ! you can talk at your ease, my dear cure", you who live very quietly under the snow, before a nice little fire, while we are running all over Paris to keep up our acquaintances. You do not understand this business : it is terribly hard, sometimes ! ' You know, my dear, that we are to go to Mme. de Blai- seme's to-morrow,' says my husband. ' Oh, dear ! we must, we really must, we have not been there this winter.' ' You have not forgotten the prefect's to-night, I hope, my darling.' ' Oh ! papa, not the prefect's ! ' "* You know, my dear, that it is absolutely necessary. If it were not for this question about the gas, you may be sure that I would not tease you ; but just as the contract is about to be signed, we can't, Oh! so you are very unwilling. Why, by the time you arrive, every one will be going away, they won't stay to be obliged to mount on the arm- chairs.' Xaturally I swallow the prefect." " What ! are your father and the count the first to lead you into these gayeties, poor lady ? " " You do not understand men, my dear cur6 ? Suppose I should tell you that if it had not been for papa and my husband I should never have dyed my hair, never ! I wept before I decided to do it. Ah ! I wept bitterly. You may think I am jesting, but indeed I should never have determined upon it, if I had been left to myself." " You dye your hair ! What what do you mean ? Why should you dye your hair ? Can people really color it ? Are you speaking seriously ? Poor young wife, poor, hapless young wife ! What could be their object ? " The object ! the object ! they thought that it 108 AROUND A SPRING. would be becoming to me, and besides, it is the fashion. Papa said to me : ' My dear child, you must not be odd ; as all the ladies dye their hair. Besides, you will be perfectly charming ! ' And, in- deed, it is extremely pretty, but that is not the ques- tion. My husband added : ' My dear, you have the prudish notions of a little shop girl. Mme. de Blai- serne has worn golden hair since day before yester- day it is beautiful. Try it, you will be lovely ! ' Yet still I wept," " Ah ! good Heavens, and they insisted ? " " Yes, yes, they insisted. It was all in vain that I said to them : Suppose my hair should be burnt by those horrible chemicals ! " " They answered : ' It is impossible.' " " But you resisted you did not yield " " It must be confessed that I yielded, since my hair is now yellow as corn, and when a child, it was black as a raven's wing." " What ! this hair " It is mine. Ah ! I won't exaggerate, the front hair is mine. As to the back, I will say nothing about it; but surely, M. le cure, you must be aware that no woman in the world ever had hair enough to make such a monument as the one which now has the honor to present itself to your gaze." As she uttered the words, she turned so as to show the back of her head, with a gesture of mingled coquetry and artlessness that was irresistibly charm- ing. " You think my chignon must be heavy, because it is so large, but it is only putted feel it yourself. Nothing could be lighter or more convenient. It is hung on the foot of my bed at night, and found per- fectly uninjured in the morning. This is not a mere matter of vanity, I wear it for comfort. Tell me, now, my good M. le cure, honestly, didn't you know that my hair was dyed ? " AROUND A SPUING. 109 "I? Heaven forbid!" " What ! didn't you see it at once ? It is no difficult matter; false blondes can be detected with- out spectacles. There is always something peculiar in the color of the hair, something not natural and it is just that very thing which gives the charm." Abbe Roche could not help shuddering, and un- consciously cast down his eyes. He felt the depths of mingled truth and sickly sentimentality contained in the last remark, which seemed to have a special application to himself. " But I am chattering, chattering. Why do you allow me to run on in this way ? Let us return to our poor people, for I came here expressly to talk about them. Dear me ! how beautiful that crucifix is ! To what century does it belong ? You do not know ? That does not prevent its being magnificent. If I have a passion, it is for relics ; oh ! how I search for curiosities ! I go without eating or drinking while in pursuit of them. You don't wish to dispose of this crucifix, I suppose ? " " No, Madame," replied the cure, " certainly not." " Excuse me ; I did not know that it was a souv- enir ;" arid however curious she might be to hear more, she now assumed an air of the utmost indiffer- ence. " It is a gift that I received long ago, and still cherish, although I never knew the name of the per- son who sent it to me." " Oh, indeed ! that is very strange." " It is the very singularity that makes me love the crucifix. I received it in the evening before my ordi- nation, twenty years ago, and have never been sep- arated from it since that time. The memory of a friend is always precious, even when he does not make himself known." " You are right. Ah ! it is a most exquisite carv- ing," and as the priest seemed determined to say 110 AROUND A SPRING. nothing more, she added : " Well, good-bye, my dear our6. You know that I love you with all my heart. I confessed it the other day before all the company/' Abb6 Roche tried to smile at this jest, but strive as he would, could not succeed. The gay young count- ess had risen, and was already in the garden, while the sweeping train of her dress still tilled the door- way and kept the priest a prisoner. " So you are not accustomed to receive such de- clarations as I have just made ? It seems to annoy you ? Will you allow me to gather a little rose-bud for you ? My husband will not be jealous of my affection. No, the count is not jealous I may take this rose too, may I not, M. le cure ? " I do not know what thought passed through her mind, but she blushed, and turning towards the priest, said, laughing in a very peculiar manner, " I love my husband too much." She had pronounced the last words in a singular tone. They revealed an emotion totally at variance with the rest of the conversation. " Farewell ! Monsieur le cure." " Farewell ! Madame." With her customary ease of manner, she held out her little ungloved hand to the priest, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps in a Parisian drawing-room she might have hesitated to extend it to her cure; but Abb6 Roche was to her simply a mountaineer, a plain and simple man, a stranger to the customs of society, ignorant -of the thousand details of etiquette. Yet this noble savage had the bearing of a gentleman, and then and then it amused her. Supposing that the priest had not ob- served her gesture, she extended her hand still farther, so that he was forced either to accept or refuse it decidedly. How many varied feelings can pass through a man's brain in one or two seconds ! He wished to AROUND A SPRINU. Ill appear as if he did not see the motion, and trembled like a child at the trifling familiarity which could have no other meaning than mere civility. At last it seemed to him cowardly to hesitate longer, and he iirmly took in his large hand the little rosy, half- closed one that was still outstretched like a mendi- cant's. He felt the gentle warmth of the soft, satin-smooth skin pervade his whole frame. He dared not press it, and his own inaction rendered the light clasp of the girlish hand so strangely charming, doubly allur- ing. At that moment the breakfast-bell at the chateau was heard in the distance. The countess turned to raise the sweeping folds of her long dress, and hastily crossed the little square. Abb6 Roche re-entered his room, closed the door, and watched her through his narrow window-panes. " Poor woman ! " said he. " Does God command me to watch over her, or never to see her again ! " She had disappeared. The cur6 turned towards the crucifix hanging on the wall, and drawing up a straw chair, knelt before it. His prayer must have been a fervent one, for when he rose, it was with a colorless face, tearful eyes, and trembling hands. XIV. Two or three days after the events related in the preceding chapter, the cure of Grand Fort was re- turning from pere Loursiere's hut, after a long conver- sation with his daughter, and had entered the path leading to the village, when he perceived through the trees Claudius standing upon the threshold of a cot- tage. Undoubtedly the priest, who was walking on with hasty strides, had been heard, for the gallant vis- count called gayly : " Is it you, my dear M. le cure ! what a piece of 112 AROUND A SPRING. good-luck to meet you here ! You are a great stran- ger ; you never come to the castle now, and are not to be found anywhere. I have jnst been to your house. Let us go back to the village together, if agreeable to you." Then turning to the two women Anth whom he had been talking, he added : " Good-bye, my friends, till we meet again one of these days. You do not regret it, I hope ? Don't forget what I told you ; all the plates and dishes you find, which have on the bottom a figure, a sketch, no matter what, I will buy of you I like the oldest best. Does that make you laugh ? Well, good-bye ! I shall soon come this way again." And he took the curb's arm without farther cere- mony. " You are surprised, are you not, to see me collect- ing these old bits of china. I am a lover of antiques, and am gathering the relics of the past ; the china of the last century, in particular, is extremely interesting to me. All these things have no real value, and I am perhaps rather foolish ; but what does it matter, since it amuses me. Every one takes his pleasure where he" " Certainly, Monsieur." " It is a very innocent mania, isn't it ? " " One that injures no one." And as Abbe Roche, somewhat embarrassed by the young man's arm, whose light pressure he felt upon his own, looked at the glittering object Claudius held in his hand, the latter remarked : " You do not suspect what this is, I am sure. It's an old silver-gilt cross, which yonder good woman has just given me. Oh ! I arranged matters capitally, gave them enough to buy two others, perfectly new, and much more fashionable than this, which is as old as the poles, worn out, defaced, tarnished. I had some difficulty in AROUND A SPRING. 113 ootaining it, however. I should not care for it, other- wise, but I have my mania. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " " And what do you want to do with it ? Why did you tempt the woman ? On our mountains, these crosses are heir-looms, transmitted from one genera- tion to another. She did wrong to give it up, it was a wicked action." As he uttered these words, the priest withdrew his arm so decidedly that Claudius dared not take it again. " Come, Monsieur le cure", be indulgent : all wo- men are a little coquettish, whether they live on the mountains or in the valleys. Now this one wants to be in the fashion. Dear me, isn't that perfectly natu- ral ! Tastes and ideas change, traditions fade, and are replaced by others. It is very true that all social transformations have their inconveniences, which are very great when viewed separately, but disappear if considered as a whole." " I do not understand what connection there is be- tween this woman's cross and social transformations." " Ah ! my dear Monsieur le cure, we are alone to- gether. Don't deny what is undeniable. You belong to an extremely powerful political party, I grant, but" " I ? I belong to a political party ? " " I do not reproach you; 'you are defending a great and beautiful cause, I am first to recognize it ; only, instead of denying modern progress, and op- posing the necessary transformation which ideas and tastes undergo, imitate the sensible and liberal portion of the French clergy, who openly accept these new tendencies and take the lead of the move- ment in order to control it. Does not this indicate great intelligence ? Excuse my speaking to you so frankly, but M. Larreau, who, be it said, has great ex- perience in men, esteems you very highly, and I share his opinion, M. le cure. He has spoken to me about 114 AROUND A SPRING. the clearness of your views, the intelligence and breadth of yonr ideas. In short, you have completely won his heart." " But I never said more than two or three consec- utive words to him." " One would have been sufficient; a man's intelli- gence can be determined by a single word. Now, as you so justly remarked, we are in a period of social transformation." " I said no such thing, quite the contrary." " We mutually agreed, I meant to say, that society was undergoing a change ; but what is there alarming, I ask you, in these ideas of liberty, well-being, free intercourse, equality ? The humble in station now desire to gain a footing in the world ; ambition, ardor, a thirst for improvement, are spreading, filtering, penetrating. Dare you conscientiously affirm that these things are not beneficial ! " " I should like to believe that things are as you say. It seems to me that all depends upon the means employed to attain this object, which " " This object, Avhy, it is the Christian aim ! Let us look at these things from a broad stand-point, without any private jealousies or the petty mean- nesses with which all political parties are infected. What is the actual democratic movement ? It is Christianity, which, too long suffocated by the sombre and violent Catholicism of the Middle Ages, and the pompous and aristocratic forms of the succeeding centuries, comes forth from silence and oblivion to unfold its holy wings which will overshadow the world. It is the continuation and completion of Christ's woi'k. I should not speak in this way to every one, but these are my real thoughts. Let priv- ileged classes disappear ; let the differences of caste crumble and fall to dust; let all men approach and look into each other's faces without distrust ; let con- straint and servitude be replaced by the free range AEOUND A SPRING. 115 of human faculties, and I shall indeed thank Heaven. Riches and noble birth have too long obtained all privileges. Make way for labor and intellect ! These few words describe modern progress, and may I be hung if it does not contain the very essence of Chris- tianity ! " " All that you have just said is beautiful, Monsieur, truly beautiful," said the abb6, with sparkling eyes. " Yes, Monsieur le cure, I repeat it, make way for intelligence and individual capacity ! " " And honesty, you should add." " Wherefore ? Rest assured that sensible people have too good an understanding not to be honest. They would remodel the laws rather than not be in harmony with them." While engaged in this conversation, they had come in sight of the cure's house, whose green shut- ters and red roof appeared round a turn in the road. " My dear M. le cur6," said Claudius, " is there any objection to my visiting your church ? " " None whatever, God's house is open to all." " To my great regret, I have been absent at mass for two successive Sundays, and therefore know noth- ing of your temple except the outside, which seems to be rather plain." " The interior is not much more elegant ; but the Lord is satisfied with it. You shall judge for your- self." They crossed the square, and turned towards the porch. " It would be so easy for you to obtain funds to restore this edifice," said Claudius. " You would be assisted with the greatest alacrity, M. le cure\ but," he added, smiling, " if you wish to do anything for your church, you must bestir youi'self a little, draw up a petition and obtain subscribers, organize a lot- tery, devise something. That is what all cures do under similar circumstances." HG AROUND A SPRING. " I have very little taste for such things. Others undoubtedly have excellent reasons for their actions, but" " The count would devote himself to the matter ; M. Larreau, too, would make great efforts. Follow my advice, and take advantage of the opportunity ! " Abb6 Roche turned the key in the lock, and pushed the little worm-eaten door, saying, " Enter, if you please." Claudius hastily put on his eye-glasses and looked around him. Doubtless the somewhat desolate as- pect of the humble church, with the beams of its roof blackened by time, covered with spiders' webs, and strewn with swallows' nests, did not inspire him with very profound reverence ; for he continued to speak in the same loud tone: " You are not rich, Monsieur le cure", not rich, not rich ! " And he looked around, above and below, like an auctioneer taking an inventory, while tapping lightly on the holy- water basin, the ancient benches, and the baptismal font. On -passing a dark corner near the confessional, where all sorts of rubbish, old candlesticks, old lad- ders, and old ropes used by the slaters in repairing the belfry, were thrown, Claudius suddenly stopped, and standing on tip-toe, drew out a fragment of carved wood, covered with a thick layer of dust and dirt. Removing his glove, he breathed upon it, wiped it, scraped it with his nail, and thus laid bare a little corner, which he examined with the utmost care. The fragment represented a naked limb, half con- cealed by flowing drapery. The viscount mounted upon a stool that chanced to be near, and discovered four or five more pieces, rendered absolutely shape- less by the immense quantity of dirt that covered them. After examining the bits, which appeared to fit into each other, and form a perfect whole, he ex- AROUND A SPRING. 117 claimed : " Phew ! my dear Monsieur le cure, your church is certainly by no means wealthy." " It is very well suited to our wants." " You have no china, no old dishes ! I am always interested in my mania, you know." Walking up the nave, he passed before the high altar with a careless bow, and began to rummage be- , . -. . land it. " Why, your vases are absurd, and your candle- sticks frightful. Your painted windows no win- dows ! You don't happen to have any lace, old bits of lace ? " " What do you mean by lace ? " " It would take too long to explain. Have you any curtains old curtains, or altar cloths ? Your Sunday robe, what is that ? " " Perhaps it would be more becoming to leave the church before talking about such matters." " You are right ; besides, I have seen everything." Then with the utmost frankness and cordiality, he continued : " Will you permit me to give your church a little present, M. le cur6 V A bas-relief, for instance, to make the utter nakedness of the walls striking. I don't see why the Lord's house should not be orna- mented, and agreeable to the eyes, and besides, the sight of works of art is a help to moral education. I am going directly back to Paris, and will send you one of the religious carvings which are executed there with so much skill. They are neither, too rude nor too elaborate; it will be just the thing, and can be kept in order very easily. All that is required is a dusting with a feather-brush every Sunday morning." " You are very kind, Monsieur. I thank you, but really I do not know whether I ought " " Accept it in the name of your parishioners you will really afford me great pleasure; besides, if the weight of gratitude Well, I'll tell you, let us make 118 AROUND A HPRING. an exchange,, gift for gift. And," he added, laughing good-naturedly, "give me the broken statue I left on the bench I can propose nothing better." " I understand the delicacy of your suggestion, Monsieur, and, although I should have no right to dispose of anything that belonged to the church " " Oh ! I beg a thousand pardons, M. le cure, I only asked for those shapeless fragments to " " Take them, then, if they can afford you any pleas- ure. The rubbish has no sort of value ; it should have been thrown away long ago; I do not under- stand why it still remains here." " I accept them with thanks. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Peo- ple will laugh at me, but I can't help it, I always ad- mire such odd trash." So saying, he put two or three pieces into his pocket, wrapped the others in his handkerchief, and moved towards the door. " Oh ! I was forgetting to take the measure. The best place for the carving would be yonder, opposite to the pulpit, between those two pillars, wouldn't it ? The space is rather more than two yards." " Then you are determined to send it ? " " Why should I deprive myself of a pleasure ? Farewell ! my dear cureV' " Farewell ! Monsieur." " We ought not to judge people hastily," thought Abb6 Roche when he found himself alone. " Yet that is a man of whom I had no pleasant impression." XV. In the meantime the capitalist, Larreau, was not idle, but always moving about, busily occupied, dress- ed in his gray hat and huge white waistcoat, which might be perceived at a long distance. He traversed the mountains on foot, unceremoniously entering all AROUND A SPRING. 119 the cottages, caressing the children, smiling at the women, and familiarly tapping the shoulders of the men, who were completely fascinated by his glitter- ing ornaments, affable manners, and immense wealth which the whole country knew he possessed. Be- sides, M. Larreau had all the qualities necessary to please : he was tall, stout, florid, smiling, well shaven, and at first sight seemed like a father coming to cc n- sole his children. In the eyes of the peasants, his size and assurance made him appear like a true lord of Manteigney, much to the disadvantage of his son-in- law, whose contemptuous bearing, narrow chest, sloping shoulders, and bow-legs inspired very little regard. " Well, my friends," the capitalist would say, as he entered without knocking, " are you happy ? Do you want any thing ? Is that child yours V What a handsome boy ! Do you eat meat, do you drink wine ? " " No, Monsieur, not always." " You do wrong. I wish you to eat meat and drink wine every day; you understand me, I wish you to do it " And as the mountaineers smiled, he continued : " Come and work in the valley, you will earn two francs a day, and your tools shall be furnish- ed. If you want your first week's wages paid in ad- vance, you have only to say so." Then with truly paternal interest he would enter into all the particulars of their mode of life, taste their bread, interest himself in the old mountain le- gends, listen to them with the greatest attention, and when the devil began to play his inevitable part in the tale, say, in the low tone of a man by no means perfectly at ease : " We must not be too hasty in be- lieving all this it won't do to be too hasty and yet it is certain that bad spirits can appear in solitary places, for instance, at twilight, or during the night when the Avind blows " He shuddered slightly to 120 AROUND A SPEING. set a good example. " M. le cure has doubtless ex- plained all this to you ? " " Oh ! M. le cur6 never speaks of ghosts or evil spirits, never." " Indeed ! Well, good-bye, my children. It is strange that Abbe Roche neglects all this, thought M. Larreau;"what a singular cure he is!" The capitalist's efforts were quickly crowned with success. One after another the reports of his liber- ality had spread abroad, and the mountaineers arrived every morning in little parties of two and three, car- rying over their shoulders, on the end of a short stick, the traditional earthen pipkin, surrounded with bands of tin, which contained their food. What were the important works that had been commenced in the valley ? No one could have told, the countess's lather having the entire management of them and being by no means communicative. To the curious he always replied : " I am making improvements, I am making improvements." In truth, he was making great im- provements. Besides building a smooth and beautiful road, leading from the valley up to the chateau, and thence to Grand Fort, he had widened the one to Virez, and commenced a third, which, turning away from the valley about one and a half leagues from Manteigney, wound through the forest. These were important works, but this was not all ! he was making immense terraces in the part of the valley nearest to the chateau. Perhaps he wished to convert the spot into a park. The mountaineers saw M. Larreau spread- ing rolls of paper upon the grass, while others, stran- gers in that region, looked through little bottles fixed at the extremity of a sort of broom-stick, supported by three long legs. After gazing into the bottles with the greatest attention, and making incomprehensible gestures with their arms, they seized long chains, and dragged them about everywhere. Here they hollow- AROUND A SPRING. 121 ed the ground, yonder piled up the earth, and farther on cut the rock, and carried the fragments three hun- dred feet to the right, where narrow trenches, regu- larly dug, resembled the foundations of some edifice. It would be a difficult matter to enumerate all the singular and contradictory rumors to which these works gave rise. Besides, you would probably pre- fer to know at once what M. Larreau himself intend- ed. I will tell you, in confidence. This clever man, as you perhaps may have guess- ed, wished to create in the valley, close by the chateau, a fashionable resort for pleasure-seekers, and was pre- paring the land, so that the buildings could be erected at any moment. The creation of new roads was a necessary consequence of this plan. The means he Avas to employ to attract wealthy idlers to this de- lightful spot were of two kinds. He relied upon the splendid stud of horses he intended to bring down, and the race-courses to be laid out ! but above all, and this was his secret, on a still more powerful charm, with which the little ditches, so regularly dug, have a certain connection. On the first arrival, M. Larreau had noticed in a - part of the valley just at the foot of the mountains, a certain spot, filled with brambles, where the earth was remarkably moist, and seemed to have a singular color. At first, he attached no special importance to this peculiarity ; then, being naturally inquisitive, ob- stinate and curious, had thought of it again, returned to the place, examined the soil more closely, and fan- cied he perceived a penetrating, nauseous odor, some- M hat difficult to define. The dampness was no great source of surprise ; such things are not at all uncom- mon in mountainous regions, where springs sink into the earth; but the odor, which became more and more perceptible, puzzled him extremely. One day, urged on by some unaccountable impulse, he attempt- ed to clamber down the rugged cliffs that overlooked 122 AROUND A SPRING. the spot. Unfortunately, it was a chaos of almost in accessible rocks, a wilderness of roots and brambles, through which even the goats could not penetrate. Larreau devoted himself to the task with great per- severance, became interested in it, and at last, after toiling for several days, peering into every fissure, lifting the mosses, examining the stones, and search- ing among the roots, found other damp places of the same color and odor as the former one. From that moment he was convinced that he had discovered a mineral spring, but kept the secret care- fully concealed. He was just the man for great en- terprises, and adroitly managed industrial schemes, and began to devote all his energies to the completion of the plan. By means of scraping and digging, he succeeded in collecting a sufficient quantity of the water to enable him to analyze it, having acquired, while in his old trade of amelter of metals, some little chemical knowledge which he thought he might turn to account. He sent for certain books and the neces- sary articles, and soon, though without a thorough in- vestigation, convinced himself that the spring con- tained a valuable compound of sulphur, iron, and ar- senic. It was necessary to have a perfect analysis, which only a chemist could perform ; and also to as- certain the quantity of water in the spring, now buried under the earth. Whatever the result might be, he knew how to restrain his curiosity, not wishing to at- tempt any excavations until his own experiments were tested by the labor of some Parisian chemist, and as he could not conduct the business by letter, since he desired to keep it a secret as long as possible, waited patiently until he could go to Paris himself. Nevertheless, this prospect of finding mineral springs instinctively led him to make some slight changes in the work going on in the valley. Not far from the moist spot he ordered foundations to be dug, for, said he to himself, " one of two things is AEOUND A SPRING. 123 very certain, either my spring is abundant and medi- cinal, or it is not. In the former case, I will at once put up a building here, that, when the time comes, will be sufficient for the first demands upon it. If the other alternative should prove correct, and I am de- ceived in my expectations, I can transform the em- bryo bath-house into a hospital, which will make me highly esteemed throughout the country, or convert it into stables, which will be so much done towards the accommodation of the race-horses." This is the plan that had been floating in the capitalist's brain ever since his arrival at Manteigney. It chanced one evening that one of the laborers, having forgotten his jacket, went back to the valley to get it, and saw M. Larreau going towards the cas- tle. It was very strange that the countess's father should be out walking by starlight. The workman hid behind a pile of Avheelbarrows and waited for him to pass. The capitalist walked on, carrying two large bottles, which must certainly contain some precious liquid, for he clasped them in both arms as carefully as a nurse would hold a new-born infant. The mountaineer, who was terribly frightened, soon took it into his head that the meeting, though perfect- ly natural, was a very wonderful adventure. M. Lar- reau walked about after dark, mysteriously, carrying in his arms huge bundles, which must contain treas- ure : why should a man so enormously rich trouble himself except to go in search of wealth ? The tale circulated over the mountain, and soon acquired a tinge of the supernatural. People won- dered in suppressed tones whether this astonishing personage, who had already transformed the chateau as if by the stroke of a magician's wand, and was throwing the whole valley into confusion without any apparent motive, might not be a sorcerer. Strange as it may seem, the absurd rumor only increased the capitalist's influence, and even attracted fresh work- 124 AROUND A SPRING. men, for people said to themselves : " If it is profit- able to be in favor with God, who is not wicked, per- haps it is still better to keep on good terms with the devil, whom everybody knows to be extremely ma- licious." To understand the singular medley in the brains of the inhabitants of the mountain, it would be neces- sary to live for a short time in some secluded corner of that region. The paradise and hell of the Christian, the tales of Perrault, and Pagan traditions, transmit- ted in some unaccountable manner, form the strange mixture on which they sustain their insatiable love of the marvellous. There are fairies keeping guard in the heart of the mountain over immense treasures of gold, silver and precious stones. How can these simple minds help becoming excited as they think of all this ! How can they remain calm and sensible, when in the midst of the dark, mysterious pine forest, full of aromatic odors, where the wind breathes in long sighs, and the roots creak against the naked rocks ! Amid the eternal song of the torrents and waterfalls, in which the ear can distinguish all the sounds of nature, they fancy in their most solitary hours that they can hear fairy bells tinkling under their feet, bursts of elfish laughter, and the clinking of gold and silver. The mountain shepherds are poor, their bread is black, and their garments are worn ; this bright dream cheers them. Wealth is not so far away ! Who knows ? an ingot of gold can soon leap out of the earth if certain people choose, and everybody knows that the elves are capricious. The mountain- eer worships the latter class of beings, because he lives in their company, brushes against them every moment, imagines he sees them behind yonder rock, or peering out of the depths of a hollow. To sneer at them is to make them appear. The worthy man loves God, also, and willingly prays to Him ; but God AROUND A SPRING. 12.) is much farther away, up above in the broad expanse of the firmament, and, after sunset, the peasant no longer dares to look at the distant stars for fear the dwarfs who live under the earth might take the op- portunity to pull him by the legs. He is not very near the Lord, but the devil and his imps are close at hand. This is not all ; the immense mountains, which re- semble a petrified tempest ; the long dark fissures with the water oozing into clefts, where the sun never enters; the motionless cataclysm, the silent, eternal nightmare, have a violent, fiendish aspect, that betokens wrath and malediction. Are they not the traces of some punishment ? God is not in this in- fernal chaos. It is the devil who lives here; the devil, chained beneath these rocky masses, conquered, disarmed, but not dead, and for want of something better to do, playing tricks upon poor trembling, ter- rified human beings. Some mystei'ious being reigns everywhere, in each hollow, each gloomy cavern. Men shudder lest he should spring out upon them ; and, though he is hid, tremble yet more, for there must be some evil meaning in it ; if he does not move now, it is only to be the more sure of his hold upon them. Besides, the eyes of the mountaineers, when turned away from these fantastic rocks, see only vast horizons, and flickering, uncertain colors, mingling in inextricable confusion. There is nothing certain, clear, and positive in this wide expanse; the other senses cannot sanction the vague impressions of the eye, and undefined, foolish fancies, which soothe the mind, succeed the exciting visions that have intoxi- cated it. M. Larreau had instinctively divined all this, and, very naturally, sought to turn it to his own advantage. It was not without regret that Abb6 Roche, who for fifteen years had been struggling against the su- perstitions of his parishioners, and seeking to win J26 AROUND A SPRING. their confidence, saw the capitalist's influence increas- ing throughout the country. The mountaineers no longer thought of anything but working together on the estates belonging to the chateau, and, earning high wages with very little trouble, forgot their tiny fields on the steep slope, which were so difficult to dig, so hard to till. Almost all had abandoned their labor in the forest, healthful though it was, and hav- ing once gone down to the valley, did not wish to climb the hill-side again. The little pillage inn had lost its character as a place of refreshment for the mountaineers, a sort of family restaurant, and was now a mere suburban pot-house, never empty, and resounding with noisy songs until far into the night. At the imperious demands of the castle servants, who possessed great influence in the place, the inn-keeper had sent in haste for absinthe, although hitherto igno- rant of its very name. It had quickly become fash- ionable, and pere Sappey, whom we met staggering along the road one evening, was one of the first to fall a victim. Thanks to the increased facility for making money, and the chance of having some in the pocket all the week, the inn was transformed into a gambling house, to the great delight of the count's servants, who being more skilful than the others, easily made very large gains. A taste for drink, as Avell as play, was developed, and the honest mountaineers, who for years had tilled their fields in the heat of the day, and borne their burdens over the burning paths without anything to quench their thirst, except the pure water of the streams, now declared that they must have wine, beer and brandy to enable them to work, so that it became necessary to put up a refreshment room, built of rough planks, in the valley. None of these changes escaped Abb6 Roche's attention, but what was he to do ! " You are in a pretty condition, Francois," said he AROUND A SPRING. 127 one day as he met one of his parishioners reeling along the road, whistling one of Offenbach's contra- dances. " I have just seen your wife ; she is com- plaining of you ; you did not give her your week's wages." Francois began to laugh. " Oh ! bless me, Monsieur le cure", things are not now as they used to be : people work and have a good time, they don't wear themselves out digging in the earth to get a handful of buckwheat. We have worked hard enough, goodness knows ! " " Poor fellow, are you any the richer ? You no longer attend to your house, your hay is not brought in; how will you feed your cow this winter? And your boys are wandering about like vagabonds ! " " Pooh ! there's no trouble about the boys. The count wants them to ride his horses, they will be lit- tle jockeys, go to Paris, be lodged and fed like lords, wear gold lace on their hats, and have nothing to do." " You do not think what you are saying, Francois. Come, you are not really bad at heart, you love your wife, your children, your home " Francois, with a drunkard's complacency, began to laugh again, and the cur6 turned sadly away. Twenty times had similar conversations taken place ; but whether with Peter or Paul, Abb6 Roche could gain nothing but a smile and a bow. The cure found himself forced to struggle inces- santly against the new influences which were gradual- ly overspreading the country. Worst of all, he was especially terrified by the thought that he himself, at certain times, felt their power. One day a cart, drawn by two oxen, stopped before his house. It contained two tolerably large cases, on which were the words : " A. la Reine des deux, fabrique d'orne- ments d'eglise en tout genre To M. le cur6,of Grand- Fort-le-Haut, by way of Virez, etc." A little group of curious persons had already as- 128 AROUND A SPRING. sembled around the cases when Abb6 Roche arrived. The lids were removed in a twinkling, and amidst the hay and shreds of paper, appeared a huge bas-relief, which elicited a general cry of admiration. It was colored with wonderful art, and represented the " Flight into Egypt." The faces were pink, the en- amelled eyes of the figures glittered in the sun's rays, and the Virgin's garments, of an exquisite shade of blue, were adorned with numerous designs in gold and silver. The whole was executed with a skill and patience worthy of the Chinese. Saint Joseph, who was on foot, wore plainer clothing; but to make amends, his beard was imitated with most remark- able perfection. It was really as natural as life. I will say nothing of the ass' foal, which seemed to ask a caress, or of the landscape, whose vast extent touched the soul: on the left were two pink pyra- mids the same shade as the faces, unfortunately and on the right, three little palm-trees of a most pe- culiar shade of green. The whole was as light as a feather, and provided with two strong rings at the back. The wheelwright, who had brought his own box of tools to open the cases, proposed to the cur6 that the precious carving should be put in its place at once, and the worthy man set to work with so much indus- try that, half an hour later, the colored bas-relief was gleaming in the simple church like a louis d'or amid a quantity of sous. The second box, much smaller than the first, contained a small lamp of gilded cop- per, undoubtedly intended to be suspended before the " flight into Egypt? It might be supposed that Abbe Roche would have been greatly delighted with these works of art, which had already excited so much admiration, but it was not so. The brilliant colors saddened him ; they were not suited to the spot where they were placed, The gilding reminded him of the drawing-room at AROUND A SPRING. 129 the chateau. It seemed as if the House of God was profaned by these life-like images, formed to please the eye, and he was offended by the idea that divin- ity itself was intended to be personified in the pink cartoon of a baby adorned with enamel eyes. This was not all : the glittering lamp, the dazzling bas-relief made the old church he loved not only with the reverence of the pi'iest, but rather the affection a man feels for the places in which he has had both joy and sufferings, seem still more desolate and dilap- idated. He had placed a part of his heart in the an- cient sanctuary, and when he entered it, the memory of all the emotions he had experienced rushed forth to meet him, and surrounded him with most delight- ful recollections. The bas-relief and lamp were in- truders which would disturb the charm. The cure's regard for his church had a tinge of filial tenderness, and these decorations made the same impression upon him that would be experienced if a person suddenly saw his old grandmother painted and crowned with flowers. All these thoughts were in his mind, when one of the servants from the chateau entered the church, and approaching Abb6 Roche, told him in a low tone that the countess desired a moment's con- versation with Monsieur le cure. XVL It was the first time that the young wife had so urgently requested the cure's presence, and he went to her immediately. Mme. de Manteigney, who was sitting under the trees at one end of the terrace, rose at his approach : " Pardon me, if I have disturbed you, my dear M. le cure, but I received a letter from our friend Clau- dius, this morning, in which he tells me that he has sent you a box from Paris." 9 133 AROUND A SPRING. " It arrived this very day, Madame, and I thank him a thousand times " " Ah ! bravo ! How do you like sit down a mo- ment how do you like the lamp ? You know that I presented it to the church." i " We are very grateful," murmured the curS in an almost stern tone of voice. The thought that he should have the countess's gift before his eyes every day was painful to him. " Listen to me, dear M. le cur6, do not speak in that severe tone, I implore you. I am in trouble, and wish to talk with you. Indeed you must show me a little friendship, or at least pretend to do so." " I have never deceived any one, Madame, and I should not begin with you. Speak to me in all can- dor, and if my counsels can aid you, rest assured that they will be sincere." In spite of himself he felt a most delightful emo- tion at the thought that she was about to make him her confidant, perhaps open her whole heart to him, and yet he struggled against the sweet sensation. He dared not look at the young wife, and stood drawing figures on the sand with the end of his cane. " The better I know you, M. le cure," continued the countess with an expression of countenance quite different from her ordinary one, " the greater is the respect and confidence with which your character in- spires me. I tell you things very frankly. I am not in the mood just now to choose my phrases, but the strongest proof of my sincerity is that I appeal to you when in trouble." " I am listening to you, Madame." " Well, answer me frankly, who is the little sav- age that brings goats' cheese here much oftener than she is needed ? Her name is Marie, I believe." The priest started. He suddenly remembered the evening when he had surprised the count in earn- AROUND A SPRING. 131 est conversation with Loursiere's daughter, and an- swered with an embarrassed manner: " Good Heavens, Madame, I think I have already told you. She is in very delicate health, and lives with her father on the borders of the forest. As to Loursiere, there are some unpleasant things said about him ; but we must not believe all the rumors which are in circulation." "I am not talking about the father, but the daughter," interrupted the countess, looking the priest steadily in the face. " Do you know her ? her conduct, her reputation in the country ? Tell me plainly, you see that I am deeply interested in the matter." " Why, her reputation Doubtless you have been told " He dared not go on, fearing that he might inform the countess of something of which she was still ignorant. The latter becoming more and more excited, exclaimed, after a moment's silence, " I am jealous of that girl ; there, do you understand now ? The .count has made her his mistress ; is that clear is that plain enough ? " She had uttered these words very passionately ; her face assumed an expression of actual hatred, her nostrils quivered, and her little hands twisted her embroidered handkerchief. " Calm yourself, Madame, I entreat you. That is a very grave accusation to make ; you must not allow your imagination " " Oh ! none of those common-place phrases, I beg of you; no well turned sentences, no trifling. Should I speak to you on such a subject if I were not sure ? And stop, I can read in your eyes that you are as well informed about the matter as I. You cannot tell me a lie ; be frank, Monsieur le cure, and answer yes or no. Were you ignorant of what I just told you ? " No one had ever appealed to his truthfulness in vain ; he turned towards the countess instantly, but 132 AROUND A SPRING. noticing the anxiety expressed in her eyes and the convulsive quivering of her lips, stopped without re- plying. He was terrified, and felt like a man who, venturing upon a volcano for the first time, feels the soles of his boots become burning hot. He also ex- perienced, an emotion of happiness, pleasure, and sat- isfied pride. The feeling shown by the poor wife ennobled her in his eyes. He had not been mistaken : a passionate woman's heart, capable of enthusiasm, anger and love throbbed La the breast of this little coquettish, prattling, frivolous countess she possessed soul, mind and feeling. "Answer me," she said, speaking more rapidly and searching his face with her anxious eyes ; " answer. Did you know all this ? " " Yes, I suspected it." " You understand that the affair cannot continue. It must be ended at once. That is why I wanted to speak to you." Her expression suddenly changed, her brow con- tracted, the corners of her mouth drooped, and -while two large tears flowed slowly down her cheeks, she continued in a low, soft tone : " You think me very absurd, do you not ? Isn't it ridiculous to permit my- self to be so deeply moved by the amusements of a gen- tleman who was trying to kill time ? you cannot un- derstand me when I say the affair must end, and yet it is perfectly true. I am no saint, and might com- mit some folly in my wrath." " I see plainly that you are suffering, but let us try " (he was almost as much agitated as the coun- tess) " let us try to reason." " Reason ! that is a pleasant proposition ; have you holy water in your veins ? People suffer, weep, want to dash themselves out of the window, and you talk about ' reasoning.' Your reasoning is very much like managing a balloon : nothing is more simple if you only have a point of support. The point of sup- AROUND A SPRING. 133 port is calmness, absence of all emotion. You do not understand, or don't you wish to understand? Did not you see at once that I am madly, yes, madly, and I am ashamed to say so, madly in love with him ? I love him foolishly degradingly." " Whom ? " " My husband, of course ! " If Abbe Roche had been stabbed in the back, the sensation would not have been more painful. Yet he murmured, clenching his heavy cane : " It is nat- ural, it is not a"t all strange, wives must love their husbands." " Yes, but the reason it is so base and wretched is, that I love him because he does not love me." " Good Heavens ! explain yourself." " Can such things be explained ? I am like a gambler Avho, about three o'clock in the morning, loses his self-control and risks his whole fortune to regain a hundred louis. I want to win don't you understand ? Well, to make myself beloved, I use the means commonly employed by the society in which I move. Suppose I should tell you you will not be hurt ? Suppose I should tell you that I tried to flirt with you to make him jealous ? It is shame- ful, isn't it ? I dye my hair as if I were going to a masquerade ; I talk slang ; I bewilder myself with idiotic prattle, and my greatest anxiety is to make every one believe that all this is perfectly natural to me. I pity myself, when I have time ; but I as- sure you that if it were advisable to tattoo my face with green to-morrow, or put curtain rings through my nose, I would do it at once to attract his at> tention." " No, no, it cannot be so," said the priest, wiping away the heavy drops of perspiration that bedewed his forehead. " No, Madame, you are mistaken, you do not know yourself \ but God reads the depths of your heart." 134 AROUND A SPRING. " So much the worse for me. He reads sad things." " Do not say so; preserve your self-respect, if you wish to remain worthy of love. True love never de- based any one, on the contrary, it .is ennobling and purifying, like everything that comes from God. Are diamonds to be judged by the mire that surrounds them! Purify your affection, free it from the stains that only rest upon the surface. Oh, God ! I know that we sometimes despair, believe ourselves accursed, that all around us is blighted, but d'o not doubt the j Lord ; pray to Him, cast yourself into His arms. If you know how He calms and consoles our feelings " "Then you, too, have been unhappy?" " Where is the life, however humble, that has not had its storms and tempests ? Perhaps all is not as dark and sad as you believe. If you love your hus- band so devotedly, he must have qualities which un- consciously attract you in spite of his faults." " If he had, I should not love him so much," she replied in a low tone, covering her face with her hand. And in a voiee choked with tears, she added: " Do you know what he did the day after my marriage ? He took supper with three grisettes, after losing sixty thousand francs during the evening." " Good Heavens, but that was infamous ! Pardon me, I only mean that the count is is a scoundrel ; and was he not reproved, slapped in the face, before them all ? " " Who would have dared to do it, may I ask ? " " I ! I swear, before Heaven, I would, had I been present. Patience has its limits, and anger bursts forth when such disgraceful scenes are witnessed. Had you none but cowards near you ? " "The count has fought ten duels, and never received a scratch. He fears no one, I assure you." " Do you think that I should have been afraid ? I would have crushed him with a single blow '."cried AROUND A SPUING. 135 the priest, with such passion that the countess cast down her eyes; then suddenly calming himself, he asked : " And you, what did you do ? " " Well ! I found that he was a very distinguished nobleman, and could not at once resign the mode of life which he and all belonging to his circle have always led. For the first time I fel-t a desire to at- tract him, to triumph over the low-born women he knew, a longing to be loA-ed. And as he had not enough to pay the sixty thousand francs for my father had been very cautious I pawned my dia- monds, and the debt was discharged before noon." " Indeed, Madame, and you think that he will be eternally grateful to you for it ? " " Dear, good cur6, how I love you ! He will never forgive me as long as he lives. I humiliated him, and I ought to have known it. Ah ! I had no chance in my first attempt ! The count cannot con- sider me as his equal ; in his eye I am nothing but the daughter of a very wealthy and influential shop- keeper, whose riches and power only make his low origin the more distasteful. Urged on by necessity, ensnared in a thousand ways could he reason calm- ly M. de Manteigney, in an hour that he now regrets, bartered his name for a fortune." " You speak as if it were not a shameful action ! I am not a nobleman." " Yet sometimes you look like one." " I was picked up in some out-of-the-way corner, forgotten and unknown, and God has done the rest ; but I feel wounded by what you say ; it is not just. I feel, I am sure, such disgrace is unknown to the French nobility. God would not permit such things to be. The action you mention is exceptional, unique, yes, unique. It is horrible." " Horrible ! no more so on his part than on mine." ' You are mistaken, you do not judge calmly. Let us say no more about it." 136 AROCyD A SPEIl'G. Yes, hut I want to talk of it. The bargain, shame- ful as it seems to you. because you live far away from the gay world, was honestly made on both sides. I was sure almost sure that no one would marry me except for my fortune ; my father knew that he was buying a title, only when everything is signed, the gentleman finds himself face to lace with a man of business, who is only apparently dazzled, and pre- serves the superiority of the rich man over the penni- less, the protector over the protected. People are so stupid ! a gentleman cannot forgive such a thing. I love my father dearly, but, after all, he grew rich by selling spouts." - Are not all men equal before the Lord?" A- he uttered these words the priest's countenance became illumined with so noble and pure an expres- sion that the young wife hesitated an instant before replying. " You are above human littleness. M. le cure/' she said at last ; Li but if men are equal before God, you sure- ly know that it is not so in the eyes of society. Ilave I not seen even at the convent, especially, the daugh- ters of the nobles treated with particular attention, almost reverence, however ugly, poor and stupid they might be ! Do I not see wealthy citizens everywhere change their names to make people believe that they are of noble birth ? I myself trembled like a leaf when papa said to me, k Would you like to be a counr A noble who sells his name, r murmured the priest, ' who gambles, and leads a life of dissipation, sinks to the level of the meanest, and then his title does not save him, but degrades him the more." All that is very well in theory. Yes. I knew that he was ruined, a gambler, and dissipated ; I knew that he had wasted his life in every way, but what of that? His very faults attracted me. they were so different from those of the persons I ABOUND A SPRING. 137 around me. Did not all the gentlemen whom I heard quoted as elegant men lead the same lives as the count ? Curiosity becomes excited, the impossi- ble tempts with its charms; we say: : He will love me all the same ! ' Economy, prudence, industry. foresight, sobriety, I had heard those words from my very cradle, and have always noticed that the people who practise these precious virtues desire nothing so ardently as to get rid of them, as one takes off a kitchen apron when a visitor arrives. During my whole childhood I saw the hoarding up of sous, and bruised myself against the piles as they grew higher and closer. The idea that some persons threw hand- fuls of louis d'orinto the streets pleased me. Do you suppose that a parvenu could have such carelessness of the morrow, such contempt for money, could pre- serve such ease of manner when ruined, look fortune in the face and laugh at it ? I think such things are noble. They flow in the blood, and are not to be learned or acquired." Abbe Roche gazed at her earnestly. His brain seemed confused. He felt that the poor wife was be- wildered, incorrect in her judgments, and misleading herself; but nevertheless, there was an indescribable audacity, hardihood, and passion in her error, which found an echo in his own memories, and controlled him by its charm. The countess continued : 1 told you that my husband had often fought a duel for some girl of light repute, and that since my marriage. You think perhaps that I was indignant ? I suffered because I feared for him and also because it was a proof of his indifference to me, but in my heart I loved him all the more. You are surprised, but it is the truth. I was proud of him. At night, after I had retired, and was left alone, I devoured the papers which related his pranks in ambiguous lan- guage that deceived no one. My feelings overpow- ered me. I wept, laughed and read the article 138 AROUND A SPRING. twenty times over. My father would not have ex- posed his life for a frolic, a jest, a glance, in defiance of all gossip, neither would any of my relatives. The more frivolous the cause, the greater the courage." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. " There is no honor in it," said the priest. " His is unblemished, I assure you ; the count is known everywhere as a gallant man irreproachable, Monsieur ! " "But he loses your money and your father's at the gaming table. Is that the act of an honorable man ? " " Why should he be economical in using my for- tune when he did not value his own ? Can he trans- form himself and suddenly acquire the petty virtues of a shopkeeper, because he has married a manufac- turers daughter ? I should have less esteem for him if he had more consideration for us. He scorns us : well, that is frank, plain, honest. I repeat, he has made a bargain exchanged his name for a fortune. He uses the fortune, and he is right ; do not I use his name ? " The young wife paused suddenly, and again began to weep. " I am very wretched," said she. The cure took her hand, and while in his embar- rassment he sought for some consoling word, she con- tinued: "What is good or evil; I can no longer judge of anything ? I struggle against my feelings, know not what I say, fear even my thoughts, and seek to escape from myself as a person does whose clothing is on fire. I have tried all means to win his love, and have gained nothing, not a pressure of the hand, not even a kiss." Then, in a lower tone she ad- ded : " Every one is more of a wife to him than I ! Pardon me, my dear M. le cure, for talking to you so long about my misfortunes ; but indeed I need to have some helping hand extended to me, some one to aid me, some one to have a little affection for me. This AROUND A SPRING. 139 last scandal must be ended at once don't you agree with me ? All these things were very well at Paris ; but here it is impossible. Different scenes require different modes of conduct. The Count de Manteig- ney in love with a bare-footed gypsy, a ragged goat- keeper I cannot endure it ; my father would not tolerate it, and he must be concilated. We have debts ! " " How, debts ! What debts ? " " Yes, I am in debt, and heavily too : I told you that he gambled. What should I have done if I had not borrowed right and left from my seamstress, my dressmaker ? It is contemptible : but what could be done y It was better for me to attend to such busi- ness." The conversation continued in this strain for sev- eral minutes. Abb6 Roche could scarcely restrain his self-command. All that he had just heard was whirling through his brain, and the young wife, who had grown somewhat calmer, but still trembled, con- tinued : " Come, let us think, let us find some means of putting an end to this disgraceful scandal : could not the young girl be sent away ? " " Her father will never consent, Madame, and be- sides, it would be necessary to find some pretext ; but it is not possible that the count can be deeply in- terested in this child, who probably possesses none of the charms to which he is accustomed." " That is the very reason ; it is the novelty, the singularity, the absurdity that attracts and retains him. The fancy has already lasted some time I know." " Could you not induce M. de Manteigney to go away for a time, divert his thoughts, and occupy his mind i 1 He will soon forget this adventure." The countess looked thoughtfully at the priest. " Yes," said she, " you are right, I must try. Ho wants to buy some horses, and it is still the gay sea 140 AROUND A SPRING. son at the Pyrenees. We will go to Tarbes, he has a friend in that vicinity; we can go to Lnchon, to Cauterets ; it Li not impossible ! Thank you, M. le cure"." " Then you will go with your husband ? " " Certainly." " Yes, yes, of course. You are right ; it must be so, it must be ! " XVII. It was with great hesitation that the countess al- luded to the trip to Tarbes, in her husband's presence. She said that it would be delightful to go to Paris by way of the Pyrenees, and that it was absolutely ne- cessary to procure some of the little horses so valuable in mountainous regions. In short, she sought for all possible methods of presenting her plan in a favorable light, but, contrary to her expectations, the count was the first to assent, and caught at the proposal to trav- el so eagerly that the time for their departure was fixed to take place three days after. The sudden resolution was not so very extraordinary. The lord of the manor had been yawning prodigiously for sev- eral days. He was overpowered by ennui. His friend Claudius was no longer there, and M. de Rou- geon, an unendurable companion and M. Larreau re- mained ; but besides the fact that the son-in-law and father-in-law were of very different characters, the count, now relieved from the anxieties concerning money which had rendered his bachelor life so harass- ing, no longer thought of anything but the incessant humiliation caused by the mere presence of the cap- italist. Must the last scion of the noblest family in the country be the silent vassal of the vulgar rich man, who beneath his apparent good-humor concealed the energy of a keen, inflexible, domineering business AROUND A SPRING. 141 man, It was he who gave orders, and planned and directed works whose object he did not even conde- scend to explain. M. de Manteigney suffered keenly from all this ; but how was he to quarrel with a man to whose gen- erosity he owed his luxury, his style of living, and all the useless splendor so necessary to his comfort ? The count wished to dispel all painful thoughts : but he certainly needed to have some agreeable pursuit to aid him in his effort. And then Parisian amuse- ments are not so quickly forgotten. He sighed for the debts, the beloved debts of former days, the bus- tle, the thousand trivial occupations, and when, re- clining in an arm-chair on the lawn before the cha- teau, with cigar between his lips, and the paper on his knee, he fixed his eyes upon the distant horizon, he fancied he saw the scenes of a theatre in the moun- tain peaks glittering in the sun, and his nostrils quivered at the remembrance of the odor of gas and musk which was not without its charm to his Parisian olfactories. Besides, his young wife, attractive as she was, appeared to him to be a mere reflection of her father, and reminded him of his absurd signature. Pere Loursiere's daughter had amused him for a short time, it is true ; but the little barefooted savage soon, lost her charm. In short, M. de Manteigney was terribly bored. Abbe Roche saw the countess once more as she was leaving the church. " It is all arranged," said she, " we leave to-morrow." " You see, Madame, that we must never despair ; be consoled and take courage." The following day, about ten o'clock in the morn- ing, he saw two carriages piled with luggage rolling along the valley at full speed towards the Virez road, while the workmen respectfully took off their caps as they passed. The priest had the courage to thank God for the departure which deeply saddened him. 142 AROUND A SPRING. M. Larreau had allowed his children to set out in company with the Rougeon family, and remained alone at the castle, alleging, as a pretext, his need of rest and the necessity of his superintending the works in person. Undoubtedly he took pleasure in finding himself absolute master of this lordly domain, which he considered, not without reason, as a conquest, and the crown of his own life-edifice. Abbe Roche felt none of these pleasant emotions ; everything around him had assumed a sombre hue, the whole country suddenly became a desert. He felt sadly isolated, and sometimes surprised himself in the act of wishing for the return of the merry, frivo- lous party that he had so carefully avoided only a few days before. He eagerly resumed his excursions to different parts of the mountains ; for he was not the man to yield without a struggle to preoccupied thoughts. He wished to take advantage of the last fine weather to visit all the favorite spots he loved so much, and plunged into narrow, rock-walled paths, where tiny rills babbled and chased each other over the stones, sparkling like threads of silver, rapid and untiring, now dashing against some obstacle, dispers- ing into a thousand drops, and suddenly disappearing to gush forth again more noisy, limpid, and bright than ever. Sometimes these little streams united their waters in a hollow of the rocks, and, resting after their long course, transformed themselves into a pure, transparent mirror, which calmly reflected the sky and trees. Now and then a bird, hopping cau- tiously along, slowly approached, drank hurriedly, and flew quickly away to the nearest tree, leaving the mirror quivering and wrinkled. " Everything in the world has its joys, agita- tions, mutual dependencies, and fears," thought Abbe Roche, " and even that stone, burning in the sun's rays, delights in the caresses of the icy water that surrounds and cools it." AROUND A SPRING. 143 From time to time he saw one of the small houses of reddish firwood half concealed in a grove of walnut trees. The hay was bursting through the garret windows over the balcony, among clothes hung out to dry, baskets of poultry, bunches of herbs, bundles of seeds and strings of onions, swing- ing in festoons. Here stood a brick oven, with its gaping, black mouth; yonder were piles of faggots, heaped up for winter use; where the hens laid their eggs, ladders, planks, and all the picturesque confu- sion of articles necessary for domestic life. In the little sun-flecked orchard, under the short, stout trees trained to resist the high winds, long fir trunks hollowed into pipes, moist and dripping, suspended from tree to tree, and supported by stakes, conveyed the water from a neighboring spring into a granite trough, wrinkled and roughly hewn, but carpeted with golden sand that glittered through the crystal wavelets. A cow, with half-shut eyes and swelling flanks, drinks slowly from it, while two merry chil- dren, their tangled hair strewn with bits of straw, also sip from their hands on the other side of the trough, and laugh at the good beast, which seems to say : " My children, we will play by and by, when I have finished." The mother is there, spreading out her washing, and the husband not far oft', probably mowing the fragrant grass on the steep slope, for the strange song which accompanies the strokes of his scythe can be distinctly heard. Was he not working in the valley ? Perhaps he may be the only one that does not. The priest gazed at the picture with a rapid, wary glance ; it no longer aflforded him the calm and soothing sensations he had usually experienced. The scene before his eyes, and the thoughts which passed through his brain, appeared only in more violent con- trast. " Have I not been imprudent and culpable in advising her to go away ? He will be cured for the 144 AROUND A SPRING. moment ; but she must return to that furnace ! " And all that he had imagined about Parisian society re- turned to his memory. How was it that these degraded women, who attracted the gaze of the crowd, became famous, and rendered those rich enough to buy their favors famous also! What must be the depravity of a society on which such creatures imposed their laws, their manners, and even their dress ? And those suppers, after which aristocratic noblemen lose mountains of gold ! must they have recourse to such contemptible meanness the next day to pay the debt contracted the night before ? He thought of the Later-Empire and the orgies of Nero. Belshazzar's feast appeared to him, and his imagination becoming excited as his blood warmed, he caught glimpses, amid the riot of bacchanalian scenes, of hundreds of marvellously beautiful courtesans, irresistibly bewitching in satin robes and gleaming jewels, drinking from golden cups, and trampling under foot young men intoxi- cated with pleasure and accursed passions. Then he breasted the steep slope more impetuous- ly ; the veins of liis forehead and neck protruded, a cold perspiration covered his frame, the muscles of his jaws contracted until the image of the weeping young wife appeared, like a bit of blue sky at the close of a storm. He took refuge in a recollection which seemed almost divine to him. His soul mingled with hers; but the more he felt the charm of this new sensation, the more the ideal vision took palpa- ble, vivid form. It was no longer the sorrow of the poor wife, her grief, her thoughts, that haunted him ; but she herself, whose presence he seemed to feel, whose material outlines he saw, the thousand details of her physical loveliness rose before him with over- powering distinctness. Then he too was accursed, conquered like others, by the lusts of the flesh. ABOUND A SPEING. 145 Alas ! the poor priest had only one fault ; he was a man, and retained the strength of a man's nature in spite of his purity of heart. Exceptional lives do not fall to the lot of every one ; it is a delicate thing to mould men after conventional patterns. In the ef- fort to make angels, there is danger of distorting peo- ple, and creating monsters, madmen, or idiots but to proceed. The inhabited region of the mountain sudden- ly ceased, and with it all luxuriance of vegetation. Nothing remained but stunted bushes, gnarled shrubs, coarse, sparsely scattered blades of grass, and tufts of aromatic plants, with rough, dark leaves, beneath which tiny flowers of singularly attractive color and odor were concealed. At rare intervals a solitary fir tree arose between two rocks, the advanced sentinel of the forest. At this height one breathed a purer air, and beneath the burning rays of the sun felt re- freshed by the invigorating breeze that blew over the icy mountain peaks. The whole landscape was revealed paths, cottages, thickets, orchards, and even the little houses of Grand Fort lining the yellow highway; the chateau of Manteigney, and the nar- row valley extending to the foot of the nearest moun- tains whose misty outlines mingled with the clouds. It was a beautiful spectacle, and the cure, listen- ing to the distant sounds that reached his ears, said to himself : " Man has a short arm and a vast soul : he is the son of God and the earth. Beyond the narrow circle commanded by the physical organs, be- yond these human passions and feverish desires, the spirit, purified from earthly stains, springs toward the limitless horizons which succeed each other until God is reached." For the moment he believed that he had entered one of these horizons; the immensity of space ex- alted him, he felt grief and delusion gradually fad- ing lost in his enthusiasm as a drop of muddy water 14C AROUND A SPRING. is absorbed in the depths of a crystal lake. He grew taller, stronger ; a feeling of nobility and pride overmastered him ; he became his former self, and the miserable agitation of his troubled senses, the anxieties which had so lately disturbed him, now ap- peared unworthy of his thoughts. Had he not a di- vine mission ? Was he grown so weak and cowardly that the least trembling of the man's nature within him should overcome the priest ! Should he hesitate to go to her aid because she was a woman, and beau- tiful? Of what consequence was her sex? Ought he to know that she had one ? He continued his walk towards the forest. It was dark and cool ; the paths, at first distinct upon the soft, black soil among the heather and wild straw- berry plants, soon disappeared amidst naked roots, intertwined like osiers in a basket. Everything was moist and dripping, even the air was full of damp- ness. The mosses that covered the rocks and trunks glittered and quivered like a tuft of wild thyme bathed in the morning dew, and long green sprays hung from the lips of the gnarled, twisted branches, like the beard of some sea god. A luxuriant vegeta- tion encumbered the earth, clung to the trees, pene- trated everywhere ; even in the clefts of the old dead pines, rotting on the ground, hundreds of little plants shot forth with the eagerness of heirs anxious to enjoy their wealth. It might have been supposed that nature, restrict- ed in space, had here poured forth her exuberant fruitfulness. One was compelled to force a passage through the dense foliage, and cling to some root, when the foot slipped. Overflowing, vivid life seemed to envelop one ; there were millions of little con- fused sounds and indistinct murmurs in the motion- less air; not a human being was present, but a whole world of existences ! They were heard, divined. All luxuriance mutually attracts. Whole populations AROUND A SPRINU. 147 were in motijn in this wilderness of plants, herbs, and mosses. The plants, herbs, and mosses them- selves breathed, lived perhaps loved. Under what ardent kiss had the earth laughed so joyously, under what divine caress had all this life burst forth ? As man looks more closely and concentrates his atten- tion, the clods of earth become animated and peopled, the grains of sand have their architecture, their cav- erns, their horizons, nothings acquire importance, and the feelings are agitated by finding under a tuft of moss the limitless immensity that we dreamed of seeking only in the heavens. Such were the dreams of the priest. How many times had he seated himself at this great banquet of life ! He drank, he revelled in this pure spring of poesy, forgetting the narrow bounds of his humble existence, his struggles, his weaknesses. His chest expanded ; he opened his heart and arms to the in- visible and fruitful mistress whom God permitted him to love. He unconsciously enjoyed her as a poet and an artist, feasted on her with his eyes, his ears, the keenest of his senses. Then drawing from his pocket a large piece of brown bread, and sitting on a rock with his feet almost in the water, he breakfasted, enjoying the luxury of existence. On finding himself once more surrounded by these memories, Abbe Roche felt as if he had been born again. " I am stronger than I believed," he thought; " these temptations are only ilfusions. Why should I waste my strength in struggling against myself, in grinding to powder the instincts within me V Why should God have deprived me of all human joys; why should He, at my very birth, have severed the bonds that unites men to each other ? Why should He have condemned me to solitude, even in my childhood, if not to make me, thanks to these trials, superior to ordinary weaknesses ? The sacrifice that exhausts and ruins the weak, purifies and reanimates the strong. 148 AROUND A SPRING. The priest has all humanity for his relatives, his heart is open to all, without distinction of caste, fortune, or name. In defiance of his personal sympathies, or antipathies, he should give his time, his care, and his prayers to all." The repugnance that he had experienced towards the count now seemed a reprehensible feeling. He had avoided these people ; but was disgust for their vices his only motive ? Had there not been pride on his part, and, not understanding their words, manners, and behavior, had he not held aloof through fear of ridicule ? He accused and condemned himself, saying : " I will be more humble in f iture." Joyfully did he accept the humility which ennobled him in his own eyes, and before God. " My duty is to go to them, persuade, convince, and lead them into the right path in spite of themselves." And he delighted in the thought that he was nearer God, between human- ity and Providence, far- from temptations, nearer his reward. xvm. The autumn was far advanced, the branches of the trees w T ere beginning to be distinctly outlined against the gray sky, and heaps of yellow leaves en- cumbered the beds of the brooks. In the morning, the fires lighted by the workmen to warm their soup gleamed here and there in the valley, as if through a mist of gauze. The air had become more sonorous, as if one were in an unfurnished room, and the bells on the flocks coming down from the mountain to take up their winter quarters in the village were heard in the distance. Although it rained frequently, and the roads were very bad, M. Larreau was always out of doors. Abbe Roche avoided meeting him as much as possible, but one day the capitalist accosted the AROUND A SPRING. 149 cure so resolutely that he was obliged to enter into conversation. " Are you going this way, my dear cure ? So am I ; let us walk on together, if agreea- ble to you." The cure, who was not skilled in making evasive answers, slightly bent his head in token of assent. " Do you know that Manteigney and Grand- Fort- le-IIaut are making a noise in the world, my dear M. le cur6 ? One of the papers I received this morning AY here in the world is tliat paper?" While speaking he looked over a number of news- papers and pamphlets he held in lu's hand. " I have just been reading an article that, upon my honor, was a most charming one, very witty and highly colored although somewhat indiscreet, in which this country is particularly described: primitive cus- toms, legends of the other world, geographical con- formation, etc., nothing was omitted. To believe the author of the little essay, we are living in a veritable earthly paradise, somewhat haunted by evil spirits, it is true, but that only serves to make it the more striking and original. There is the paper, M. le cure, you can read it at home. You see it has a very pret- ty engraving of the chateau, and here is your church in the vignette. It is a very correct likeness. On second thoughts, take all the papers, I have not open- ed half of them ; but my time is fully occupied this is pay-day." Abbe Roche was stupefied with astonishment. Why should people trouble themselves about Grand Fort ? What interest could it have for Parisian read- ers? He instinctively divined tha* this publicity boded no good, and it made him sad to see his old church reproduced on paper. " Who could have written this article?" he asked anxiously. " Oh ! I'm sure I don't know, unless you are the author. M. le cureV' 150 AROUND A SPRINQ. " I ? " " I was jesting. The truth is, I strongly suspect that indiscreet Claudius, who prides himself upon his literary talents, and really does not write badly. Be- sides, this little piece is sprightly, witty, and humor- ous like him, it is exactly his style a charming man- ner his ! " Then, suddenly changing the conversa- tion, he exclaimed : " Well. M. le cure, winter will soon be here ; the mornings are uncomfortably cool already. Luckily wood is not dear in this region. Have you seen the works ? " " From a distance, Monsieur, as I passed." " I believe, between ourselves, that the whole country is very much puzzled about them ; it seems so to me. It is strange how the simplest things as- sume a fantastic character among these mountains ; everything appears supernatural, even the adornments a simple private citizen adds to his dwelling. Your parishioners are people of imagination, my dear cur6, and are willing to be guided by it. Try to make them prosperous, to secure their welfare by simple means: they will energetically refuse to accept. Use a little shrewdness in the matter, show progress to them under a glittering haze, besprinkled with the marvellous, and they will rush towards it, you cannot hold them back. Well ! it is the eternal history of humanity. After all, of what importance are the means, if the result is good ? Once more, what do we desire ? The prosperity of this country, which has not yet received the benefits of civilization, and contains buried wealth of incalculable extent I am a rich man, I dlitical philosophy which have be< view. e moral, religious, and political bas . . Everybody who wants to m ?d by a master-hand, and in Englii iding him." Nation. >UR SERIES. ICTOR CHERBULIEZ. $1.2;" World. 5 ? A Novel. By MRS Qg O't." $1.25. Novel. By MRS. ALEX serves very warm commendation"- ifES. A Novel. Bi dern novel-writing authors." Lon ' Drsorves to be put on the same shelf with 'Dorothy Fox' and 'Hero Carthew. li is not only extremely entertaining but extremely interesting." JV. Y. World. "Charming in style and exquisitely fresh in its picture of character." Bostun I'mtt WHAT THE SWALLOW SANG. Bj FRIEDEIUCH SPIELUAGEN. $1.25. 'To F. Spielhagen must be granted the first place among German Novelists.'' Bostmi Post. "The characters are well-known, and the incidents are highly picturesque and -liiifi. Indeed, there are few English writers of the day who can compare with Spielhagen in brilliancy." Sunday Times. LEISURE HOUR SERIES BY G.DROZ HENRY HOLT&CO. PUBLISHED New York