Captain Fracasse, Page 2

  CHAPTER II. THE CHARIOT OF THESPIS

  The Baron de Sigognac went down the broad staircase without a moment'sdelay to answer this mysterious summons, protecting with his hand thefeeble flame of the small lamp he carried from the many draughts thatthreatened to blow it out. The light, shining through his slenderfingers, gave them a rosy tinge, so that he merited the epithet appliedby Homer, the immortal bard, to the laughing, beautiful Aurora, eventhough he advanced through the thick darkness with his usual melancholymien, and followed by a black cat, instead of preceding the glorious godof day.

  Setting down his lamp in a sheltered corner, he proceeded to take downthe massive bar that secured the door, cautiously opened the practicableleaf, and found himself face to face with a man, upon whom the light ofthe lamp shone sufficiently to show rather a grotesque figure, standinguncovered in the pelting rain. His head was bald and shining, with afew locks of gray hair clustering about the temples. A jolly red nose,bulbous in form, a small pair of twinkling, roguish eyes, looking outfrom under bushy, jet-black eyebrows, flabby cheeks, over which wasspread a network of purplish fibres, full, sensual lips, and a scanty,straggling beard, that scarcely covered the short, round chin, made upa physiognomy worthy to serve as the model for a Silenus; for it wasplainly that of a wine-bibber and bon vivant. Yet a certain expressionof good humour and kindness, almost of gentleness, redeemed what wouldotherwise have been a repulsive face. The comical little wrinklesgathering about the eyes, and the merry upward turn of the comers of themouth, showed a disposition to smile as he met the inquiring gaze ofthe young baron, but he only bowed repeatedly and profoundly, withexaggerated politeness and respect.

  This extraordinary pantomime finished, with a grand flourish, theburlesque personage, still standing uncovered in the pouring rain,anticipated the question upon de Sigognac's lips, and began at once thefollowing address, in an emphatic and declamatory tone:

  "I pray you deign to excuse, noble seignior, my having come thus toknock at the gates of your castle in person at this untimely hour,without sending a page or a courier in advance, to announce my approachin a suitable manner. Necessity knows no law, and forces the mostpolished personages to be guilty of gross breaches of etiquette attimes."

  "What is it you want?" interrupted the baron, in rather a peremptorytone, annoyed by the absurd address of this strange old creature, whosesanity he began to doubt.

  "Hospitality, most noble seignior; hospitality for myself and mycomrades--princes and princesses, heroes and beauties, men of lettersand great captains, pretty waiting-maids and honest valets, who travelthrough the provinces from town to town in the chariot of Thespis, drawnby oxen, as in the ancient times. This chariot is now hopelessly stuckin the mud only a stone's throw from your castle, my noble lord."

  "If I understand aright what you say," answered the baron, "you are astrolling band of players, and have lost your way. Though my house issadly dilapidated, and I cannot offer you more than mere shelter, youare heartily welcome to that, and will be better off within here thanexposed to the fury of this wild storm."

  The pedant--for such seemed to be his character in the troupe--bowed hisacknowledgments.

  During this colloquy, Pierre, awakened by Miraut's loud barking, hadrisen and joined his master at the door. As soon as he was informed ofwhat had occurred, he lighted a lantern, and with the baron set forth,under the guidance of the droll old actor, to find and rescue thechariot in distress. When they reached it Leander and Matamore weretugging vainly at the wheels, while his majesty, the king, pricked upthe weary oxen with the point of his dagger. The actresses, wrapped intheir cloaks and seated in the rude chariot, were in despair, and muchfrightened as well--wet and weary too, poor things. This most welcomere-enforcement inspired all with fresh courage, and, guided by Pierre'ssuggestions, they soon succeeded in getting the unwieldy vehicle outof the quagmire and into the road leading to the chateau, which wasspeedily reached, and the huge equipage safely piloted through the grandportico into the interior court. The oxen were at once taken from beforeit and led into the stable, while the actresses followed de Sigognac upto the ancient banqueting hall, which was the most habitable room in thechateau. Pierre brought some wood, and soon had a bright fire blazingcheerily in the great fireplace. It was needed, although but thebeginning of September and the weather still warm, to dry the drippinggarments of the company; and besides, the air was so damp and chilly inthis long disused apartment that the genial warmth and glow of the firewere welcome to all.

  Although the strolling comedians were accustomed to find themselves inall sorts of odd, strange lodgings in the course of their wanderings,they now looked with astonishment at their extraordinary surroundings;being careful, however, like well-bred people, not to manifest tooplainly the surprise they could not help feeling.

  "I regret very much that I cannot offer you a supper," said their younghost, when all had assembled round the fire, "but my larder is so barethat a mouse could not find enough for a meal in it. I live quite alonein this house with my faithful old Pierre; never visited by anybody;and you can plainly perceive, without my telling you, that plenty doesnot abound here."

  "Never mind that, noble seignior," answered Blazius, the pedant, "forthough on the stage we may sit down to mock repasts--pasteboard fowlsand wooden bottles--we are careful to provide ourselves with moresubstantial and savoury viands in real life. As quartermaster ofthe troupe I always have in reserve a Bayonne ham, a game pasty, orsomething, of that sort, with at least a dozen bottles of good oldBordeaux."

  "Bravo, sir pedant," cried Leander, "do you go forthwith and fetch inthe provisions; and if his lordship will permit, and deign to join us,we will have our little feast here. The ladies will set the table for usmeanwhile I am sure."

  The baron graciously nodded his assent, being in truth so amazed at thewhole proceeding that he could not easily have found words just then;and he followed with wondering and admiring eyes the graceful movementsof Serafina and Isabelle, who, quitting their seats by the fire,proceeded to arrange upon the worn but snow-white cloth that Pierrehad spread on the ancient dining-table, the plates and other necessaryarticles that the old servant brought forth from the recesses of thecarved buffets. The pedant quickly came back, carrying a large basketin each hand, and with a triumphant air placed a huge pasty of mosttempting appearance in the middle of the table. To this he added a largesmoked tongue, some slices of rosy Bayonne ham, and six bottles of wine.

  Beelzebub watched these interesting preparations from a distance witheager eyes, but was too much afraid of all these strangers to approachand claim a share of the good things on the table. The poor beast wasso accustomed to solitude and quiet, never seeing any one beyond hisbeloved master and Pierre, that he was horribly frightened at the suddenirruption of these noisy newcomers.

  Finding the feeble light of the baron's small lamp rather dim, Matamorebad gone out to the chariot and brought back two showy candelabra, whichordinarily did duty on the stage. They each held several candles, which,in addition to the warm radiance from the blazing fire, made quitea brilliant illumination in this room, so lately dark, cheerless, anddeserted. It had become warm and comfortable by this time; its familyportraits and tarnished splendour looked their best in the bright, softlight, which had chased away the dark shadows and given a new beauty toeverything it fell upon; the whole place was metamorphosed; a festiveair prevailed, and the ancient banqueting hall once more resounded withcheery voices and gay laughter.

  The poor young baron, to whom all this had been intensely disagreeableat first, became aware of a strange feeling of comfort and pleasurestealing over him, to which, after a short struggle, he finally yieldedhimself entirely. Isabelle, Serafina, even the pretty soubrette, seemedto him, unaccustomed as he was to feminine beauty and grace, likegoddesses come down from Mount Olympus, rather than mere ordinarymortals. They were all very pretty, and well fitted to turn heads farmore experienced than his. The whole thing was like a delightful dreamto him; he almost doubt
ed the evidence of his own senses, and every fewminutes found himself dreading the awakening, and the vanishing of theentrancing vision.

  When all was ready de Sigognac led Isabelle and Serafina to the table,placing one on each side of him, with the pretty soubrette opposite.Mme. Leonarde, the duenna of the troupe, sat beside the pedant,Leander, Matamore, his majesty the tyrant, and Scapin finding placesfor themselves. The youthful host was now able to study the faces of hisguests at his ease, as they sat round the table in the full light of thecandles burning upon it in the two theatrical candelabra. He turned hisattention to the ladies first, and it perhaps will not be out of placeto give a little sketch of them here, while the pedant attacks thegigantic game pasty.

  Serafina, the "leading lady" of the troupe, was a handsome young womanof four or five and twenty, who had quite a grand air, and was asdignified and graceful withal as any veritable noble dame who shoneat the court of his most gracious majesty, Louis XIII. She had an ovalface, slightly aquiline nose, large gray eyes, bright red lips--theunder one full and pouting, like a ripe cherry---a very fair complexion,with a beautiful colour in her cheeks when she was animated or excited,and rich masses of dark brown hair most becomingly arranged. She worea round felt hat, with the wide rim turned up at one side, and trimmedwith long, floating plumes. A broad lace collar was turned down overher dark green velvet dress, which was elaborately braided, and fittedclosely to a fine, well-developed figure. A long, black silk scarf wasworn negligently around her shapely shoulders and although both velvetand silk were old and dingy, and the feathers in her hat wet and limp,they were still very effective, and she looked like a young queen whohad strayed away from her realm; the freshness and radiant beauty of herface more than made up for the shabbiness of her dress, and de Sigognacwas fairly dazzled by her many charms.

  Isabelle was much more youthful than Serafina, as was requisite for herrole of ingenuous young girl, and far more simply dressed. She had asweet, almost childlike face, beautiful, silky, chestnut hair, withgolden lights in it, dark, sweeping lashes veiling her large, soft eyes,a little rosebud of a mouth, and an air of modesty and purity that wasevidently natural to her--not assumed. A gray silk gown, simply made,showed to advantage her slender, graceful form, which seemed far toofragile to endure the hardships inseparable from the wandering life shewas leading. A high Elizabethan ruff made a most becoming frame for hersweet, delicately tinted, young face, and her only ornament was a stringof pearl beads, clasped round her slender, white neck. Though her beautywas less striking at first sight than Serafina's, it was of a higherorder: not dazzling like hers, but surpassingly lovely in its exquisitepurity and freshness, and promising to eclipse the other's moreshowy charms, when the half-opened bud should have expanded into thefull-blown flower.

  The soubrette was like a beautiful Gipsy, with a clear, dark complexion,rich, mantling colour in her velvety cheeks, intensely black hair--long,thick, and wavy--great, flashing, brown eyes, and rather a large mouth,with ripe, red lips, and dazzling white teeth--one's very beau-ideal ofa bewitching, intriguing waiting-maid, and one that might be a dangerousrival to any but a surpassingly lovely and fascinating mistress. She wasone of the beauties that women are not apt to admire, but men rave aboutand run after the world over. She wore a fantastic costume of blue andyellow, which was odd, piquant, and becoming, and seemed fully consciousof her own charms.

  Mme. Leonarde, the "noble mother" of the troupe dressed all in black,like a Spanish duenna, was portly of figure, with a heavy, very paleface, double chin, and intensely black eyes, that had a crafty, slightlymalicious expression. She had been upon the stage from her earlychildhood, passing through all the different phases, and was an actressof decided talent, often still winning enthusiastic applause at theexpense of younger and more attractive women, who were inclined to thinkher something of an old sorceress.

  So much for the feminine element. The principal roles were allrepresented; and if occasionally a re-enforcement was required, theycould almost always pick up some provincial actress, or even anamateur, at a pinch. The actors were five in number: The pedant, alreadydescribed, who rejoiced in the name of Blazitis; Leander; Herode, thetragic tyrant; Matamore, the bully; and Scapin, the intriguing valet.

  Leander, the romantic, irresistible, young lover--darling of theladies--was a tall, fine-looking fellow of about thirty, thoughapparently much more youthful, thanks to the assiduous care he bestowedon his handsome person. His slightly curly, black hair was worn long,so that he might often have occasion to push it back from his forehead,with a hand as white and delicate as a woman's, upon one of whose taperfingers sparkled an enormous diamond--a great deal too big to be real.He was rather fancifully dressed, and always falling into such graceful,languishing attitudes as he thought would be admired by the fair sex,whose devoted slave he was. This Adonis never for one moment laid asidehis role. He punctuated his sentences with sighs, even when speaking ofthe most indifferent matters, and assumed all sorts of preposterous airsand graces, to the secret amusement of his companions. But he had greatsuccess among the ladies, who all flattered him and declared he wascharming, until they had turned his head completely; and it was his firmbelief that he was irresistibly fascinating.

  The tyrant was the most good-natured, easy-going creature imaginable;but, strangely enough, gifted by nature with all the external signs offerocity. With his tall, burly frame, very dark skin, immensely thick,shaggy eyebrows, black as jet, crinkly, bushy hair of the same hue, andlong beard, that grew far up on his cheeks, he was a very formidable,fierce-looking fellow; and when he spoke, his loud, deep voice madeeverything ring again. He affected great dignity, and filled his role toperfection.

  Matamore was as different as possible, painfully thin--scarcely morethan mere skin and bones--a living skeleton with a large hooked nose,set in a long, narrow face, a huge mustache turned up at the ends, andflashing, black eyes. His excessively tall, lank figure was so emaciatedthat it was like a caricature of a man. The swaggering air suitable tohis part had become habitual with him, and he walked always with immensestrides, head well thrown back, and hand on the pommel of the huge swordhe was never seen without.

  As to Scapin, he looked more like a fox than anything else, and had amost villainous countenance; yet he was a good enough fellow in reality.

  The painter has a great advantage over the writer, in that he can sopresent the group on his canvas that one glance suffices to take in thewhole picture, with the lights and shadows, attitudes, costumes, anddetails of every kind, which are sadly wanting in our description--toolong, though so imperfect--of the party gathered thus unexpectedly roundour young baron's table. The beginning of the repast was very silent,until the most urgent demands of hunger had been satisfied. Poor deSigognac, who had never perhaps at any one time had as much to eat ashe wanted since he was weaned, attacked the tempting viands with anappetite and ardour quite new to him; and that too despite his greatdesire to appear interesting and romantic in the eyes of the beautifulyoung women between whom he was seated. The pedant, very much amused atthe boyish eagerness and enjoyment of his youthful host, quietly heapedchoice bits upon his plate, and watched their rapid disappearance withbeaming satisfaction. Beelzebub had at last plucked up courage and creptsoftly under the table to his master, making his presence known by aquick tapping with his fore-paws upon the baron's knees; his claims wereat once recognised, and he feasted to his heart's content on the savourymorsels quietly thrown down to him. Poor old Miraut, who had followedPierre into the room, was not neglected either, and had his full shareof the good things that found their way to his master's plate.

  By this time there was a good deal of laughing and talking round thefestive board. The baron, though very timid, and much embarrassed, hadventured to enter into conversation with his fair neighbours. The pedantand the tyrant were loudly discussing the respective merits of tragedyand comedy. Leander, like Narcissus of old, was complacently admiringhis own charms as reflected in a little pocket mirror he always hadabout
him. Strange to say he was not a suitor of either Serafina's orIsabelle's; fortunately for them he aimed higher, and was always hopingthat some grand lady, who saw him on the stage, would fall violently inlove with him, and shower all sorts of favours upon him. He was in thehabit of boasting that he had had many delightful adventures of thekind, which Scapin persistently denied, declaring that to his certainknowledge they had never taken place, save in the aspiring lover's ownvivid imagination. The exasperating valet, malicious as a monkey, tookthe greatest delight in tormenting poor Leander, and never lostan opportunity; so now, seeing him absorbed in self-admiration, heimmediately attacked him, and soon had made him furious. The quarrelgrew loud and violent, and Leander was heard declaring that he couldproduce a large chest crammed full of love letters, written to himby various high and titled ladies; whereupon everybody laugheduproariously, while Serafina said to de Sigognac that she for one didnot admire their taste, and Isabelle silently looked her disgust. Thebaron meantime was more and more charmed with this sweet, dainty younggirl, and though he was too shy to address any high-flown compliments toher, according to the fashion of the day, his eyes spoke eloquently forhim. She was not at all displeased at his ardent glances, and smiledradiantly and encouragingly upon him, thereby unconsciously making poorMatamore, who was secretly enamoured of her, desperately unhappy,though he well knew that his passion was an utterly hopeless one. A moreskilful and audacious lover would have pushed his advantage, but ourpoor young hero had not learned courtly manners nor assurance in hisisolated chateau, and, though he lacked neither wit nor learning, itmust be confessed that at this moment he did appear lamentably stupid.

  All the bottles having been scrupulously emptied, the pedant turned thelast one of the half dozen upside down, so that every drop might runout; which significant action was noted and understood by Matamore, wholost no time in bringing in a fresh supply from the chariot. The baronbegan to feel the wine a little in his head, being entirely unaccustomedto it, yet he could not resist drinking once again to the health of theladies. The pedant and the tyrant drank like old topers, who canabsorb any amount of liquor--be it wine, or something stronger--withoutbecoming actually intoxicated. Matamore was very abstemious, both ineating and drinking, and could have lived like the impoverishedSpanish hidalgo, who dines on three olives and sups on an air upon hismandoline. There was a reason for his extreme frugality; he fearedthat if he ate and drank like other people he might lose his phenomenalthinness, which was of inestimable value to him in a professionalpoint of view. If he should be so unfortunate as to gain flesh, hisattractions would diminish in an inverse ratio, so he starved himselfalmost to death, and was constantly seen anxiously examining the buckleof his belt, to make sure that he had not increased in girth since hislast meal. Voluntary Tantalus, he scarcely allowed himself enough tokeep life in his attenuated frame, and if he had but fasted as carefullyfrom motives of piety he would have been a full-fledged saint.

  The portly duenna disposed of solids and fluids perseveringly, andin formidable quantities, seeming to have an unlimited capacity; butIsabelle and Serafina had finished their supper long ago, and wereyawning wearily behind their pretty, outspread hands, having no fanswithin reach, to conceal these pronounced symptoms of sleepiness.

  The baron, becoming aware of this state of things, said to them,"Mesdemoiselles, I perceive that you are very weary, and I wish withall my heart that I could offer you each a luxurious bed-chamber; but myhouse, like my family, has fallen into decay, and I can only give to youand Madame my own room. Fortunately the bed is very large, and you mustmake yourselves as comfortable as you can--for a single night you willnot mind. As to the gentlemen, I must ask them to remain here with me,and try to sleep in the arm-chairs before the fire. I pray you,ladies, do not allow yourselves to be startled by the waving of thetapestry-which is only due to the strong draughts about the room on astormy night like this--the moaning of the wind in the chimney, or thewild scurrying and squeaking of the mice behind the wainscot. I canguarantee that no ghosts will disturb you here, though this place doeslook dreary and dismal enough to be haunted."

  "I am not a bit of a coward," answered Serafina laughingly, "and will domy best to reassure this timid little Isabelle. As to our duenna,--sheis something of a sorceress herself, and if the devil in person shouldmake his appearance he would meet his match in her."

  The baron then took a light in his hand and showed the three ladiesthe way into the bed-chamber, which certainly did strike them ratherunpleasantly at first sight, and looked very eerie in the dim,flickering light of the one small lamp.

  "What a capital scene it would make for the fifth act of a tragedy,"said Serafina, as she looked curiously about her, while poor littleIsabelle shivered with cold and terror. They all crept into bed withoutundressing, Isabelle begging to lie between Serafina and Mme. Leonarde,for she felt nervous and frightened. The other two fell asleep atonce, but the timid young girl lay long awake, gazing with wide-open,straining eyes at the door that led into the shut-up apartments beyond,as if she dreaded its opening to admit some unknown horror. But itremained fast shut, and though all sorts of mysterious noises made herpoor little heart flutter painfully, her eyelids closed at last, and sheforgot her weariness and her fears in profound slumber.

  In the other room the pedant slept soundly, with his head on the table,and the tyrant opposite to him snored like a giant. Matamore had rolledhimself up in a cloak and made himself as comfortable as possibleunder the circumstances in a large arm-chair, with his long, thin legsextended at full length, and his feet on the fender. Leander sleptsitting bolt upright, so as not to disarrange his carefully brushedhair, and de Sigognac, who had taken possession of a vacant arm-chair,was too much agitated and excited by the events of the evening to beable to close his eyes. The coming of two beautiful, young women thussuddenly into his life--which had been hitherto so isolated, sad anddreary, entirely devoid of all the usual pursuits and pleasures ofyouth--could not fail to rouse him from his habitual apathy, and set hispulses beating after a new fashion. Incredible as it may seem yet it wasquite true that our young hero had never had a single love affair. Hewas too proud, as we have already said, to take his rightful place amonghis equals, without any of the appurtenances suitable to his rank, andalso too proud to associate familiarly with the surrounding peasantry,who accorded him as much respect in his poverty as they had ever shownto his ancestors in their prosperity. He had no near relatives to cometo his assistance, and so lived on, neglected and forgotten, in hiscrumbling chateau, with nothing to look forward to or hope for. Inthe course of his solitary wanderings he had several times chanced toencounter the young and beautiful Yolande de Foix, following the houndson her snow-white palfrey, in company with her father and a number ofthe young noblemen of the neighbourhood. This dazzling vision of beautyoften haunted his dreams, but what possible relations could there everbe hoped for between the rich, courted heiress, whose suitors werelegion, and his own poverty-stricken self? Far from seeking to attracther attention, he always got out of her sight as quickly as possible,lest his ill-fitting, shabby garments and miserable old pony shouldexcite a laugh at his expense; for he was very sensitive, this pooryoung nobleman, and could not have borne the least approach to ridiculefrom the fair object of his secret and passionate admiration. He hadtried his utmost to stifle the ardent emotions that filled his heartwhenever his thoughts strayed to the beautiful Yolande, realizing howfar above his reach she was, and he believed that he had succeeded;though there were times even yet when it all rushed back upon him withoverwhelming force, like a huge tidal wave that sweeps everythingbefore it.

  The night passed quietly at the chateau, without other incident than thefright of poor Isabelle, when Beelzebub, who had climbed up on the bed,as was his frequent custom, established himself comfortably uponher bosom; finding it a deliciously soft, warm resting-place, andobstinately resisting her frantic efforts to drive him away.

  As to de Sigognac, he did not once close his eyes. A vague p
roject wasgradually shaping itself in his mind, keeping him wakeful and perplexed.The advent of these strolling comedians appeared to him like a stroke offate, an ambassador of fortune, to invite him to go out into the greatworld, away from this old feudal ruin, where his youth was passing inmisery and inaction--to quit this dreary shade, and emerge into thelight and life of the outer world.

  At last the gray light of the dawn came creeping in through the latticewindows, speedily followed by the first bright rays from the rising sun.The storm was over, and the glorious god of day rose triumphant in aperfectly clear sky. It was a strange group that he peeped in upon,where the old family portraits seemed looking down with haughty contemptupon the slumbering invaders of their dignified solitude. The soubrettewas the first to awake, starting up as a warm sunbeam shone caressinglyfull upon her face. She sprang to her feet, shook out her skirts, as abird does its plumage, passed the palms of her hands lightly over herglossy bands of jet-black hair, and then seeing that the baron wasquietly observing her, with eyes that showed no trace of drowsiness, shesmiled radiantly upon him as she made a low and most graceful curtsey.

  "I am very sorry," said de Sigognac, as he rose to acknowledge hersalute, "that the ruinous condition of this chateau, which verily seemsbetter fitted to receive phantoms than real living guests, would notpermit me to offer you more comfortable accommodations. If I had beenable to follow my inclinations, I should have lodged you in a luxuriouschamber, where you could have reposed between fine linen sheets, undersilken curtains, instead of resting uneasily in that worm-eaten oldchair."

  "Do not be sorry about anything, my lord, I pray you," answered thesoubrette with another brilliant smile; "but for your kindness weshould have been in far worse plight; forced to pass the night in thepoor old chariot, stuck fast in the mud; exposed to the cutting wind andpelting rain. We should assuredly have found ourselves in wretched casethis morning. Besides, this chateau which you speak of so disparaginglyis magnificence itself in comparison with the miserable barns, open tothe weather, in which we have sometimes been forced to spend the night,trying to sleep as best we might on bundles of straw, and making lightof our misery to keep our courage up."

  While the baron and the actress were exchanging civilities the pedant'schair, unable to support his weight any longer, suddenly gave way underhim, and he fell to the floor with a tremendous crash, which startledthe whole company. In his fall he had mechanically seized hold of thetable-cloth, and so brought nearly all the things upon it clatteringdown with him. He lay sprawling like a huge turtle in the midst of themuntil the tyrant, after rubbing his eyes and stretching his burly limbs,came to the rescue, and held out a helping hand, by aid of which the oldactor managed with some difficulty to scramble to his feet.

  "Such an accident as that could never happen to Matamore," said Herode,with his resounding laugh; "he might fall into a spider's web withoutbreaking through it."

  "That's true," retorted the shadow of a man, in his turn stretching hislong attenuated limbs and yawning tremendously, "but then, you know, noteverybody has the advantage of being a second Polyphemus, a mountain offlesh and bones, like you, or a big wine-barrel, like our friend Blaziusthere."

  All this commotion had aroused Isabelle, Serafina and the duenna, whopresently made their appearance. The two younger women, though a littlepale and weary, yet looked very charming in the bright morning light. Inde Sigognac's eyes they appeared radiant, in spite of the shabbinessof their finery, which was far more apparent now than on the precedingevening. But what signify faded ribbons and dingy gowns when the wearersare fresh, young and beautiful? Besides, the baron's eyes were soaccustomed to dinginess that they were not capable of detecting suchslight defects in the toilets of his fair guests, and he gazed withdelight upon these bewitching creatures, enraptured with their grace andbeauty. As to the duenna, she was both old and ugly, and had long agoaccepted the inevitable with commendable resignation.

  As the ladies entered by one door, Pierre came in by the other, bringingmore wood for the fire, and then proceeding to make the disordered roomas tidy as he could. All the company now gathered round the cheerfulblaze that was roaring up the chimney and sending out a warm glowthat was an irresistible attraction in the chill of the early morning.Isabelle knelt down and stretched out the rosy palms of her prettylittle hands as near to the flames as she dared, while Serafina stoodbehind and laid her hands caressingly on her shoulders, like an eldersister taking tender care of a younger one. Matamore stood on oneleg like a huge heron, leaning against the corner of the carvedchimney-piece, and seemed inclined to fall asleep again, while thepedant was vainly searching for a swallow of wine among the emptybottles.

  The baron meantime had held a hurried private consultation with Pierreas to the possibility of procuring a few eggs, or a fowl or two, at thenearest hamlet, so that he might give the travellers something to eatbefore their departure, and he bade the old servant be quick about it,for the chariot was to make an early start, as they had a long day'sjourney before them.

  "I cannot let you go away fasting, though you will have rather a scantybreakfast I fear," he said to his guests, "but it is better to have apoor one than none at all; and there is not an inn within six leagues ofthis where you could be sure of getting anything to eat. I will not makefurther apologies, for the condition of everything in this house showsyou plainly enough that I am not rich; but as my poverty is mainly owingto the great expenditures made by my honoured ancestors in many wars forthe defence of king and country, I do not need to be ashamed of it."

  "No indeed, my lord," answered Herode in his deep, bass voice, "and manythere be in these degenerate days who hold their heads very high becauseof their riches, who would not like to have to confess how they came inpossession of them."

  "What astonishes me," interrupted Blazius, "is that such an accomplishedyoung gentleman as your lordship seems to be should be willing to remainhere in this isolated spot, where Fortune cannot reach you even if shewould. You ought to go to Paris, the great capital of the world, therendezvous of brave and learned men, the El Dorado, the promised land,the Paradise of all true Frenchmen. There you would be sure to makeyour way, either in attaching yourself to the household of some greatnobleman, a friend of your family, or in performing some brilliant deedof valour, the opportunity for which will not be long to find."

  These words, although rather high-flown, were not devoid of sense, andde Sigognac could not help secretly admitting that there was some truthin them. He had often, during his long rambles over the desolate Landes,thought wishfully of undertaking what the pedant had just proposed; buthe had not money enough for the journey even, and he did not know whereto look for more. Though brave and high-spirited, he was very sensitive,and feared a smile of derision more than a sword-thrust. He was notfamiliar with the prevailing fashions in dress, but he felt that hisantiquated costume was ridiculous as well as shabby, and sure to belaughed at anywhere but among his own simple peasantry. Like most ofthose who are disheartened and crushed by extreme poverty, he onlylooked at the dark side of things, and made no allowance for anypossible advantages. Perhaps he might have been delicately as well asgenerously assisted by some of his father's old friends if he would onlyhave let them know of his situation, but his pride held him back, and hewould have died of starvation rather than ask for aid in any form.

  "I used to think sometimes of going to Paris," he answered slowly, aftersome hesitation, "but I have no friends or even acquaintances there; andthe descendants of those who perhaps knew my ancestors when they wererich and powerful, and in favour at court, could scarcely be expectedto welcome a poverty-stricken Baron de Sigognac, who came swooping downfrom his ruined tower to try and snatch a share of any prey that chancedto lie within reach of his talons. And besides--I do not know why Ishould be ashamed to acknowledge it--I have not any of the appurtenancessuitable to my rank, and could not present myself upon a footing worthyof my name. I doubt if I have even money enough for the expenses of thejourney alone, and tha
t in the humblest fashion."

  "But it is not necessary," Blazius hastened to reply, "that you shouldmake a state entry into the capital, like a Roman emperor, in a gildedchariot drawn by four white horses abreast. If our humble equipage doesnot appear too unworthy to your lordship, come with us to Paris; we areon our way there now. Many a man shines there to-day in brave apparel,and enjoys high favour at court, who travelled thither on foot, carryinghis little bundle over his shoulder, swung on the point of his rapier,and his shoes in his hand, for fear of wearing them out on the way."

  A slight flush, partly of shame, partly of pleasure, rose to deSigognac's cheek at this speech. If on the one side his pride revoltedat the idea of being under an obligation to such a person as the pedant,on the other he was touched and gratified by this kind proposition sofrankly made, and which, moreover, accorded so well with his own secretdesires. He feared also that if he refused the actor's kindly-meantoffer he would wound his feelings, and perhaps miss an opportunity thatwould never be afforded to him again. It is true that the idea of adescendant of the noble old house of Sigognac travelling in the chariotof a band of strolling players, and making common cause with them, wasrather shocking at first sight, but surely it would be better than togo on any longer leading his miserable, hopeless life in thisdismal, deserted place. He wavered between those two decisive littlemonosyllables, yes and no, and could by no means reach a satisfactoryconclusion, when Isabelle, who had been watching the colloquy withbreathless interest, advanced smilingly to where he was standingsomewhat apart with Blazius, and addressed the following words to him,which speedily put an end to all his uncertainty:

  "Our poet, having fallen heir to a fortune, has lately left us, andhis lordship would perhaps be good enough to take his place. I foundaccidentally, in opening a volume of Ronsard's poems that lay upon thetable in his room, a piece of paper with a sonnet written upon it, whichmust be of his composition, and proves him not unaccustomed to writingin verse. He could rearrange our parts for us, make the necessaryalterations and additions in the new plays we undertake, and evenperhaps write a piece for us now and then. I have now a very prettylittle Italian comedy by me, which, with some slight modifications,would suit us nicely, and has a really charming part for me."

  With her last words, accompanied though they were with a smile, she gavethe baron such a sweet, wistful look that he could no longer resist; butthe appearance of Pierre at this moment with a large omelette createda diversion, and interrupted this interesting conversation. They allimmediately gathered round the table, and attacked the really goodbreakfast, which the old servant had somehow managed to put before them,with great zest. As to de Sigognac, he kept them company merely out ofpoliteness, and trifled with what was on his plate while the others wereeating, having partaken too heartily of the supper the night before tobe hungry now, and, besides, being so much preoccupied with weightiermatters that he was not able to pay much attention to this.

  After the meat was finished, and while the chariot was being made readyfor a start, Isabelle and Serafina expressed a desire to go into thegarden, which they looked down upon from the court.

  "I am afraid," said de Sigognac, as he aided them to descend theunsteady, slippery stone steps, "that the briers will make sad work withyour dresses, for thorns abound in my neglected garden, though roses donot."

  The young baron said this in the sad, ironical tone he usually adoptedwhen alluding to his poverty; but a moment after they suddenly came upontwo exquisite little wild roses, blooming directly in their path. Withan exclamation of surprise de Sigognac gathered them, and as he offeredone to each lady, said, with a smile, "I did not know there was anythingof this sort here, having never found aught but rank weeds and bramblesbefore; it is your gracious presence that has brought forth these twoblossoms in the midst of ruin and desolation."

  Isabelle put her little rose carefully in the bosom of her dress, givinghim her thanks mutely by an eloquent glance, which spoke more perhapsthan she knew, and brought a flush of pleasure to his cheeks. Theywalked on to the statue in its rocky niche at the end of the garden, deSigognac carefully bending back the branches that obstructed the way.The young girl looked round with a sort of tender interest at thisovergrown, neglected spot, so thoroughly in keeping with the ruinedchateau that frowned down upon them, and thought pityingly of the long,dreary hours that the poor baron must have spent here in solitude anddespair. Serafina's face only expressed a cold disdain, but slightlymasked by politeness. To her mind the ruinous condition of things wasanything but interesting, and though she dearly loved a title she hadstill greater respect for wealth and magnificence.

  "My domain ends here," said the baron, as they reached the grotto of thestatue, "though formerly all the surrounding country, as far as theeye can reach from the top of that high tower yonder, belonged to myancestors. But barely enough remains now to afford me a shelter untilthe day comes when the last of the de Sigognacs shall be laid to restamid his forefathers in the family vault, thenceforward their solepossession."

  "Do you know you are very much out of spirits this morning?" saidIsabelle in reply, touched by the expression of this sad thought thathad occurred to her also, and assuming a bright, playful air, in thehope that it might help to chase away the heavy shadow that lay uponher young host's brow. "Fortune is blind, they say, but nevertheless shedoes sometimes shower her good gifts upon the worthy and the brave; theonly thing is that they must put themselves in her way. Come, decide togo with us, and perhaps in a few years the Chateau de Sigognac, restoredto its ancient splendour, may loom up as proudly as of old; think ofthat, my lord, and take courage to quit it for a time. And besides," sheadded in a lower tone that only de Sigognac could hear, "I cannot bearto go away and leave you here alone in this dreary place."

  The soft light that shone in Isabelle's beautiful eyes as she murmuredthese persuasive words was irresistible to the man who already loved hermadly; and the idea of following his divinity in a humble disguise,as many a noble knight had done of old, reconciled him to what wouldotherwise have seemed too incongruous and humiliating. It could not beconsidered derogatory to any gentleman to accompany his lady-love, beshe what she might, actress or princess, and to attach himself, for loveof her bright eyes, to even a band of strolling players. The mischievouslittle boy of the bow had compelled even gods and heroes to submit toall sorts of odd tests and means. Jupiter himself took the form of abull to carry off Europa, and swam across the sea with her upon hisback to the island of Crete. Hercules, dressed as a woman, sat spinningmeekly at Omphale's feet. Even Aristotle went upon all fours that hismistress might ride on his back. What wonder then that our youthfulbaron thought that nothing could be too difficult or repulsive in theservice of the lovely being at his side! So he decided at once notto let her leave him behind, and begging the comedians to wait a fewmoments while he made his hurried preparations, drew Pierre aside andtold him in few words of his new project. The faithful old servant,although nearly heart-broken at the thought of parting with his belovedmaster, fully realized how greatly it would be to his advantage to quitthe dreary life that was blighting his youth, and go out into the world;and while he felt keenly the incongruity of such fellow travellers fora de Sigognac, yet wisely thought that it was better for him to go thusthan not at all. He quickly filled an old valise with the few articlesof clothing that formed the baron's scanty wardrobe, and put into aleathern purse the little money he still possessed; secretly addingthereto his own small hoard, which he could safely do without fearof detection, as he had the care of the family finances, as well aseverything else about the establishment. The old white pony was broughtout and saddled, for de Sigognac did not wish to get into the chariotuntil they had gone some distance from home, not caring to make hisdeparture public. He would seem thus to be only accompanying his guestsa little way upon their journey, and Pierre was to follow on foot tolead the horse back home.

  The oxen, great slow-moving, majestic creatures, were already harnessedto the heavy chariot, w
hile their driver, a tall, sturdy peasant lad,standing in front of them leaning upon his goad, had unconsciouslyassumed an attitude so graceful that he closely resembled the sculpturedfigures in ancient Greek bas-reliefs. Isabelle and Serafina had seatedthemselves in the front of the chariot, so that they could enjoy thefresh, cool air, and see the country as they passed along; while theothers bestowed themselves inside, where they might indulge in a morningnap. At last all were ready; the driver gave the word of command, andthe oxen stepped slowly forward, setting in motion the great unwieldy,lumbering vehicle, which creaked and groaned in lamentable fashion,making the vaulted portico ring again as it passed through it and out ofthe chateau.

  In the midst of all this unwonted commotion, Beelzebub and Miraut movedrestlessly about the court, evidently very much perplexed as to whatcould be the meaning of it. The old dog ran back and forth from hismaster, who always had a caress for him, to Pierre, looking up intotheir faces with questioning, anxious eyes, and Beelzebub finally wentand held a consultation with his good friend, the old white pony,now standing with saddle and bridle on, quietly awaiting his master'spleasure. He bent down his head so that his lips almost touchedBeelzebub, and really appeared to be whispering something to him; whichthe cat in his turn imparted to Miraut, in that mysterious language ofanimals which Democritus, claimed that he understood, but which we arenot able to translate. Whatever it might have been that Bayard, the oldpony, communicated to Beelzebub, one thing is certain, that when at lastthe baron vaulted into his saddle and sallied forth from his ancientcastle, he was accompanied by both cat and dog. Now, though it was nouncommon thing for Miraut to follow him abroad, Beelzebub had never beenknown to attempt such a feat before.

  As he rode slowly out through the grand old portico de Sigognac felthis heart heavy within him, and when, after going a few paces from thechateau, he turned round for one last look at its crumbling walls, hefelt an acute grief at bidding them farewell which was an astonishmentto himself. As his eyes sought and dwelt upon the roof of the littlechapel where his father and mother lay sleeping side by side, he almostreproached himself for wishing to go and leave them, and it required amighty effort to turn away and ride after the chariot, which was somedistance in advance of him. He had soon overtaken and passed it, whena gentle gust of wind brought to him the penetrating, faintly aromaticscent of his native heather, still wet from last night's rain, and alsothe silvery sound of a distant convent bell that was associated with hisearliest recollections. They both seemed to be reproaching him for hisdesertion of his home, and he involuntarily checked the old pony,and made as if he would turn back. Miraut and Beelzebub, seeming tounderstand the movement, looked up at him eagerly, but as he was in thevery act of turning the horse's head he met Isabelle's soft eyesfixed on him with such an entreating, wistful look that he flushed andtrembled under it, and entirely forgetting his ancient chateau, theperfume of the heather, and the quick strokes of the distant bell, thatstill continued ringing, he put spurs to his horse and dashed on inadvance again. The struggle was over--Isabelle had conquered.

  When the highway was reached, de Sigognac again fell behind thechariot--which moved more quickly over the smooth, hard road--so thatPierre might be able to catch up to him, and rode slowly forward, lostin thought; he roused himself, however, in time to take one last lookat the towers of Sigognac, which were still visible over the tops ofthe pine trees. Bayard came to a full stop as he gazed, and Miraut tookadvantage of the pause to endeavour to climb up and lick his master'sface once more; but he was so old and stiff that de Sigognac had tolift him up in front of him; holding him there he tenderly caressedthe faithful companion of many sad, lonely years, even bending downand kissing him between the eyes. Meantime the more agile Beelzebub hadscrambled up on the other side, springing from the ground to the baron'sfoot, and then climbing up by his leg; he purred loudly as his masteraffectionately stroked his head, looking up in his face as if heunderstood perfectly that this was a leave-taking. We trust that thekind reader will not laugh at our poor young hero, when we say that hewas so deeply touched by these evidences of affection from his humblefollowers that two great tears rolled down his pale cheeks and fell uponthe heads of his dumb favourites, before he put them gently from him andresumed his journey.

  Miraut and Beelzebub stood where he had put them down, looking aftertheir beloved master until a turn in the road hid him from their sight,and then quietly returned to the chateau together. The rain of theprevious night had left no traces in the sandy expanse of the Landes,save that it had freshened up the heather with its tiny purple bells,and the furze bushes with their bright yellow blossoms. The very pinetrees themselves looked less dark and mournful than usual, and theirpenetrating, resinous odour filled the fresh morning air. Here and therea little column of smoke rising from amid a grove of chestnut treesbetrayed the homestead of some farmer, and scattered over the gentlyrolling plain, that extended as far as the eye could reach, great flocksof sheep could be discerned, carefully guarded by shepherd and dog; theformer mounted on stilts, and looking very odd to those unaccustomed tothe shepherds of the Landes. On the southern horizon the snow-clad topsof the more lofty peaks of the Pyrenees rose boldly into the clear sky,with light wreaths of mist still clinging round them here and there.

  Oxen travel slowly, especially over roads where at times the wheels sinkdeep into the sand, and the sun was high above the horizon before theyhad gone two leagues on their way. The baron, loath to fatigue his oldservant and poor Bayard, determined to bid adieu to them without furtherdelay; so he sprang lightly to the ground, put the bridle into Pierre'strembling hand, and affectionately stroked the old pony's neck, as henever failed to do when he dismounted. It was a painful moment. Thefaithful servant had taken care of his young master from his infancy,and he turned very pale as he said in faltering tones, "God bless andkeep your lordship. How I wish that I could go with you."

  "And so do I, my good Pierre, but that is impossible. You must stayand take care of the chateau for me; I could not bear to think ofit entirely abandoned, or in any other hands than yours, my faithfulfriend! And besides, what would become of Bayard and Miraut andBeelzebub, if you too deserted them?"

  "You are right, master," answered Pierre, his eyes filling with tears ashe bade him farewell before he turned and led Bayard slowly back by theroad they had come. The old pony whinnied loudly as he left his master,and long after he was out of sight could be heard at short intervalscalling out his adieux.

  The poor young baron, left quite alone, stood for a moment with downcasteyes, feeling very desolate and sad; then roused himself with an effort,and hastened after the chariot. As he walked along beside it with asorrowful, preoccupied air, Isabelle complained of being tired of hersomewhat cramped position, and said that she would like to get down andwalk a little way for a change; her real motive being a kind wish toendeavour to cheer up poor de Sigognac and make him forget his sadthoughts. The shadow that had overspread his countenance passed awayentirely as he assisted Isabelle to alight, and then offering his armled her on in advance of the lumbering chariot. They had walked somedistance, and she was just reciting some verses, from one of her parts,which she wished to have altered a little, when the sound of a hornclose at hand startled them, and from a by-path emerged a gay partyreturning from the chase. The beautiful Yolande de Foix came first,radiant as Diana, with a brilliant colour in her cheeks and eyes thatshone like stars. Several long rents in the velvet skirt of her ridinghabit showed that she had been following the hounds through the thicketsof furze that abound in the Landes, yet she did not look in the leastfatigued, and as she came forward made her spirited horse fret andprance under quick, light strokes of her riding-whip--in whose handleshone a magnificent amethyst set in massive gold, and engraved withthe de Foix arms. Three or four young noblemen, splendidly dressed andmounted, were with her, and as she swept proudly past our hero and hisfair companion-upon whom she cast a glance of haughty disdain--shesaid in clear ringing tones, "Do look at the Baron de Sigogn
ac, dancingattendance upon a Bohemienne." And the little company passed on with ashout of laughter.

  The poor baron was furious, and instinctively grasped the handle of hissword with a quick, angry movement; but as quickly released it--for hewas on foot and those who had insulted him were on horseback, so that hecould not hope to overtake them; and besides, he could not challenge alady. But the angry flush soon faded from his cheek, and the remembranceof his displeasure from his mind, under the gentle influence ofIsabelle, who put forth all her powers of fascination to make hercompanion forget the affront he had received because of her.

  The day passed without any other incident worthy of being recorded, andour travellers arrived in good season at the inn where they were to supand sleep.