The White House Part 49

"What is that thing, my dear?" said Robineau, as he looked at it.

"Why, monseigneur, it is an _attribute_, as that gentleman all dressed in black called it, who engaged me to work for you."

"What, do you mean that you have entered my service to hand me foot-warmers? It seems to me that in summer you might find something better to do than that."

"Monseigneur de la Roche-Noire, that is a figure of speech," said Ferulus, stepping forward; "this girl is here to do everything, and princ.i.p.ally to warm the bed when you want it done; but as I could find no warming pan at the moment, she offers you the implement of her duties."

"Yes, monseigneur, I will warm you," said Jeannette with a curtsy.

"Monseigneur," continued Ferulus, "Agar performed that service for Abraham, Ruth for Boaz, Bathsheba for David, and I do not see why Jeannette should not perform it for your lordship."

"I don't see either," said Robineau, "and I highly approve the creation of this position in my chateau.--Well, my friends, be zealous and active, and above all things see to it that to-morrow you work with redoubled zest and do not get drunk."

As he said this, Robineau walked away with his two friends. The servants returned to their work, and Monsieur Ferulus went to Jeannette and whispered in her ear:

"You will warm my bed this evening."

"What, monsieur, already? in such warm weather as this? it's early in September."

"That proves nothing; it may be hot and still be damp."

"But, monsieur, I can't find any warming pan."

"Never mind, my dear girl, at your age the centre of gravity should be warm enough to take the place of one."

"What's the centre of gravity, monsieur?"

"What you sit down on, Jeannette."

"What, monsieur,--you want me to warm your bed with my----"

"Even so, my dear; that is the way beds were always warmed in ancient times, for in ancient times there were no warming pans."

"Then it's all right, monsieur."

"Oh! by the way, Jeannette, you will be careful to leave the warming pan in the bed, so that I shall find it there when I retire."

Jeannette opened her eyes and curtsied, while Monsieur Ferulus walked away playing with his corkscrew.

XVII

THE MAIDEN AND THE STRANGER

While everybody at the Chateau of La Roche-Noire was engrossed by the great festivity which was to take place on the morrow, the most profound tranquillity reigned about Isaure's dwelling. When the young men had left her, the little goatherd had taken her flock onto the mountain. On the way, she often turned her eyes toward the White House; she seemed to gaze inquiringly at it; then she went on, and from time to time a faint sigh escaped from her breast. Isaure had unconsciously become pensive since she began to receive the visits of Alfred and Edouard; she frequently thought of the two young men. Alone in her cottage, or among the mountains, Isaure had abundance of time to think; and when love makes her heart beat fast, the busiest woman finds leisure to think of the man she loves, or rather she thinks of him all the time. Even in the midst of society and of the restraints to which it subjects us, the image of the person we love follows us everywhere. It is our veritable sylph, or guardian angel.

Alfred and Edouard were both made to be loved, and they both did their utmost to please Isaure. A heart that has never known love is certain to surrender more easily and to receive more quickly the impressions of that pa.s.sion. The girl whom the mountaineers and the shepherds had avoided, experienced a novel pleasure with those persons who seemed so happy in her presence; but that pleasure was inevitably attended with risk; and already fits of musing announced the birth of a new sentiment in Isaure's heart.

Reading was no longer a sufficient distraction for the little goatherd.

Still, she had carried a book upon the mountain with her, to occupy her time; but although she opened it and looked at it, she did not read; her distraught eyes sought the road by which the two young men always came to the valley.

"I shall see them to-morrow," she said to herself; "they are not afraid of me! they do not run away at sight of me; they do not think me wicked.

Ah! I begin to feel that it is very melancholy to live alone, not to have a single friend with one. And yet, a little while ago I never thought of that; I was perfectly happy. What can it be that I lack now?"

Isaure let her head sink upon her breast; the book was thrown aside. Her mind abandoned itself to a delicious reverie; it is so sweet to dream, when the image of one we love is mingled with all our thoughts! And yet how many people live and die without knowing the most blissful sensations of love!

Suddenly the girl raised her head, put aside with her hand the long fair curls which fell over her great eyes, and turning her head anxiously, looked once more at the White House, with her head bent forward, as if she were listening, waiting, hoping.

But nothing disturbed the absolute calm that reigned all about; and that house, an object of terror to the credulous mountaineers, seemed to be as usual entirely deserted.

At last Isaure ceased to look in that direction; but, having glanced about, as if to make sure that no one could see her, she took from her breast a little locket, put it to her lips, and kissed it fervently; and a tear or two, which glistened in her eyes, fell upon that object upon which she lavished so many manifestations of affection.

After a few minutes she carefully replaced the locket in her breast, wiped her eyes, rose, a.s.sembled her goats and walked slowly back to her cottage.

Vaillant came rushing out to jump and fawn upon his mistress.

"My poor Vaillant," said Isaure, pa.s.sing her hand over the head of her faithful companion, "you are not pleased with me; I am sure of it; I do not play with you as often as I used; I fondle you less; and yet I still love you, you are my faithful companion; but I don't know what is the matter with me, Vaillant; and sometimes it really seems to me as if I were angry with myself for not being so merry as I used to be."

The dog p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and looked in the girl's face; one would have thought that he was seeking some means of raising her spirits.

Several moments pa.s.sed, and Vaillant, overjoyed to be caressed by his young mistress, did not stir from her side. But suddenly he lowered his head, walked away from Isaure, and took his stand close to the house door, uttering a low, prolonged growl.

"What is it, Vaillant? What's the matter with you?" said the girl, calling him back to her. But he remained near the door, and would not leave it; he continued to growl, while his eyes expressed his ill humor and an uneasy curiosity.

"Is there anyone there?" continued Isaure. "Can it be that they have come back to see me? or perhaps only one of them?"

At the thought, a deep blush overspread the girl's cheeks. She ran to the door and hastily threw it open; but instead of her young friends, she saw the man who had been wandering about the mountains standing a few yards from her house.

He was standing perfectly still, leaning upon his stout stick; he seemed to be scrutinizing the cottage in every part, and at the same time to be deep in thought; when the door opened and the dog went to him, he did not move; but his piercing black eyes rested upon the girl, who had remained in the doorway.

The stranger's appearance and the expression of his face had at that moment a tinge of gloom, which, combined with the shabbiness of his clothes, inspired a sort of distrust. Isaure had never been so near that man; she had only seen him pa.s.sing at a distance; but now he was only a few yards away from her, and his glances, spanning that distance, seemed by the smouldering fire that gleamed in them to seek to read the very bottom of the girl's soul.

The vivid blush which tinged the little goatherd's cheeks gave place to a sudden pallor; Isaure felt her heart sink, and she began to tremble.

Never before had she had such a feeling of oppression as that which seized her at the sight of the stranger. However, ashamed of having given way to a feeling of alarm, she tried to recover herself, and said to him in a voice which she did her utmost to make steady:

"Monsieur--do you wish for anything?"

The vagabond gazed at her a long while, then replied:

"Faith, no, I do not want anything. However, as I happen to be in front of your house, I would be glad to eat a bit if it were possible."

"Oh, yes! that is very easy, monsieur. Come in."

From that moment Isaure saw in the stranger only an unfortunate, and the pleasure that she felt in doing good speedily dissipated her terror.

Still, while the stranger entered and seated himself in the living room, Isaure, as she went to and fro to fetch what she had to offer him, kept Vaillant constantly by her side; and her voice, as she spoke a few affectionate words to her faithful guardian from time to time, seemed to urge him to watch over her more heedfully than ever.

The stranger threw himself upon a chair, put aside his hat and his stick, and examined with interest the interior of the cottage. When the girl returned to the living room, he scrutinized her again, and the more he looked at her the more amazement his eyes seemed to express.