The White House Part 31

"You are wasting your time, you see, messieurs!" said Robineau, rising; "you might knock until to-morrow, to no purpose, as there's no one there!"

"Or else they won't answer," muttered the shepherd, who had drawn a little nearer.

"It's a pity!" said Alfred; "I would have liked to see a legion of phantoms come out--just to see what sort of a face Sire de la Roche-Noire would have made."

"My face would not have changed, messieurs; I don't believe in these old grandmothers' tales, as you do; that is why I don't see the need of knocking at doors when I know there's no one inside."

"Oh! you wouldn't have to knock like that at midnight!" said the shepherd, shaking his head. "You'd find a difference then, I tell you!"

"Well," said Alfred, "as we can't get into the White House unless by scaling the walls, which would be a little too much after the style of the sons of Aymon or Ogier the Dane, let us try the cottage; perhaps we shall be more fortunate there."

"Oh! you won't find anybody there either, messieurs," said Claude, "for at this time of day Isaure always drives her goats to pasture in the mountain."

"In that case," said Robineau, "it seems to me that we might dispense with knocking at every door we see."

Alfred and Edouard left their companion to confide his reflections to the shepherd. They walked toward the cottage, which was surrounded by fine trees and by small squares of ground in which flowers were cultivated with care.

"This place looks like a palace beside the hovel where we slept last night," said Alfred; "we may look upon this cottage as the chateau of Chadrat."

"Yes, it's a charming spot," said Edouard, stopping to examine the rustic structure. "These beautiful trees whose shade seems to protect this modest abode--and the flowers--and the turf!--Do you know, my dear Alfred, I would gladly pa.s.s my life here!"

"Your life! oh! that is too long; but a week, with a lovely woman--I don't say no to that.--But let us see if the mistress of this cottage corresponds with the idea I have formed of her."

The door was closed and locked. Alfred knocked, called, looked in the windows; no one appeared, but they heard on the other side of the door the barking of a dog who seemed anxious to interview the visitors.

"The house is well guarded, at all events," said Alfred.

"What's that?" exclaimed Robineau.

"It's Isaure's dog," said the shepherd; "he's a big fellow, I tell you!

and I'll bet no two men could handle him! He's a--wait--he's a dog of some kind of a land--what do you call it?"

"Do you mean Newfoundland?"

"Yes, monsieur, Newfoundland, that's it."

"And how does it happen that this girl has a dog of that breed, which is so rare in this country?"

"Oh! monsieur, that's another one of those mysterious things that proves that there's something crooked. Isaure's had this big dog since Andre's widow's death; somebody asked her where she got him, and she said a traveller made her a present of him because she took him in and gave him something to eat. I ask you if it's likely that a traveller would deprive himself of his trusty companion?"

"No, it isn't conceivable," said Robineau, "and I begin to agree with the shepherd, that this young girl--It's a most extraordinary thing."

"Do you know what the dog's name is?" Edouard asked the shepherd.

"Yes, monsieur, he goes out with his mistress sometimes, and we hear her calling him 'Vaillant' here and 'Vaillant' there."

Edouard walked to the door and tapped softly, calling Vaillant. The dog at once replied, but his bark was less loud; he seemed to ask what was wanted rather than to threaten the strangers.

The two friends listened to the dog with interest, and the shepherd with attention; but Robineau, who was striding to and fro, stamping the ground angrily, cried:

"Messieurs, I don't know whether you came to Auvergne to talk with dogs and to knock at every door.--As for myself, as I have a different object, I am going to have the honor of bidding you adieu if you don't choose to go forward."

"Nonsense, Robineau! don't get excited; we are coming right along. I confess that I would have liked to see this girl."

"So would I!" said Edouard.

"But since she is absent, and you don't feel like taking another little walk into the mountains, we will go with you, reserving the right to come back without you to see the little sorceress."

"There she is! there she is!" cried the shepherd at that moment, pointing toward the mountain. The young men at once turned their eyes in that direction and saw a young girl, who was coming quickly down into the valley, driving a herd of goats before her.

Alfred and Edouard remained where they stood and followed the girl with their eyes. Her gait was light and active; sometimes she ran after her goats, again she turned to call the stragglers. When she descended a steep slope, her feet seemed hardly to touch the ground, and she leaped as if in sport over deep excavations. At last she reached the valley, where they were better able to distinguish her features: her great deep-blue eyes were shaded by long black lashes, and her eyelids, often half lowered, added to the sweetness of her expression, which was at once artless and shy. Her nose was small and well shaped, her mouth, which was rather large, revealed when she smiled teeth as white as ivory; her fair hair fell in great curls over her brow, and was arranged with taste and with more care than is usual among the women of the mountains; her complexion was but slightly darkened by the sun, from which it was sheltered by a broad-brimmed straw hat. She was of medium height, but slender and graceful; her foot and hand were small and shapely. A brown skirt and a waist of the same material, with a little red and white ap.r.o.n, comprised her whole costume; but there was in her manner of wearing them a grace that did not at all resemble the heavy and awkward carriage of the women of Auvergne.

"She is charming!" said Alfred.

Edouard said nothing, but his eyes followed Isaure's every movement.

"Yes," said Robineau, "she's very pretty for a peasant."

The little goatherd approached her dwelling. Ere long she stopped in surprise and made a gesture which implied that she had just discovered the strangers. But she walked on after a moment, and came cheerily toward them. Alfred and Edouard stepped forward to meet her.

"Have you been knocking at my door, messieurs?" she asked, in a very sweet voice, with a curtsy to the travellers.

"Yes, my lovely child," Alfred replied.

"I was not mistaken! I heard Vaillant. You see, he warns me instantly when anyone comes. But you wish to step in and rest, no doubt, and have something to eat? Come, messieurs, I will let you in."

"You are too kind," said Edouard; "but we are sorry to have brought you home."

"Why so? As if I had not time enough to pasture my goats! And is it not a pleasure to be useful to travellers?"

As she spoke, the girl ran ahead to unlock the door.

"My friend, she is pretty enough to paint!" said Alfred in an undertone.

"Yes; everything about her charms and interests one!"

"What drivelling idiots these mountaineers must be to be afraid of such a lovely child! For my part, I would gladly sell myself to the devil with her!"

"Well, messieurs! do you propose to go in here?" inquired Robineau, walking toward his companions.

"Oh! my dear Robineau, you must certainly agree that we cannot refuse this sweet child's invitation. Besides, we have had nothing but milk this morning, and it seems to me that a little fruit would not do us any harm."

"But, messieurs, at my chateau you will have chickens and----"

"I am fully persuaded that we shall have geese and turkeys at your chateau; but, pending the time when we shall enjoy their society, let us make this young woman's acquaintance. Come, Robineau, just this one concession--it will be the last."

"Great G.o.d! how many concessions I have made since yesterday!--You are making me pay very dear for my chateau!"