GALUCHET SURPRISED.Emile turned and saw Constant Galuchet, his father's secretary, who had just thrown his coat on the grass, and, having enveloped his head in a pocket handkerchief, was engaged in baiting his hook.
GALUCHET SURPRISED.
Emile turned and saw Constant Galuchet, his father's secretary, who had just thrown his coat on the grass, and, having enveloped his head in a pocket handkerchief, was engaged in baiting his hook.
"It is rather because they are too lazy," he replied, somewhat bewildered by that suggestion, which had not occurred to him.
"What do you know about it, pray?" retorted Gilberte, with an indignation which he did not understand.
"This young woman is very piquant," he thought, "and her little air of determination pleases me immensely. If I should talk to her long, I would show her that I am no blockhead of a provincial."
"Well," said Emile to Gilberte, while Constant hunted for worms under the stones, in order to bait his hook, "you have seen the features of a perfect idiot."
"I am afraid he is more conceited than foolish," she replied.
"Come, come, children, you are not indulgent," observed honest Antoine. "That young man is not handsome, I agree, but he seems to be a good fellow, and Monsieur Cardonnet is well satisfied with him. He is very obliging and has offered several times to do little favors for me. Indeed he once gave me a very nice line, such as we can't find hereabout; unfortunately I lost it before I went home, so that Janille scolded me that day almost as much as she did the day I lost my hat. By the way, Monsieur Galuchet," he added, raising his voice, "you promised to come to fish in our neighborhood; I don't disturb my fish much, I haven't your patience, so that you are likely to find some. I count upon seeing you one of these days; come to breakfast at the house and then I will take you to a good place; there are plenty of barbel, and they are good sport."
"You are too kind, monsieur," said Galuchet; "I will certainly come some Sunday, since you are pleased to overwhelm me with your courtesy."
And Galuchet, enchanted to have perpetrated that sentence, bowed as gracefully as he could and took his leave, after Emile had given him his message for his parents.
Gilberte was somewhat disposed to find fault with her father for such excessive benevolence to so dull and unattractive a subject; but she was too kind-hearted herself not to overcome her repugnance very quickly, and in a moment she had ceased to think of it, the more readily because on that day it was impossible for her to feel vexed at anything.
Thanks to their frame of mind, our lovers found all the incidents of the remainder of their journey agreeable and amusing. Monsieur Antoine's old mare, hitched to a sort of open buggy, which he was justified in calling his wheelbarrow, performed prodigies of skill and courage in the shocking roads that they had to follow to reach their destination. The vehicle had room for three persons, and Sylvain Charasson, seated in the middle, drove the peaceful Lanternesuperlatively—to use his own expression.
The horrible jolting of a carriage so poorly hung in no wise disturbed Gilberte and her father, who were accustomed to occasional discomfort and never allowed their plans to be disarranged by the weather or the state of the roads.
Emile rode in front on horseback, to give warning and to help them to alight when the road became too dangerous. Then, when they came out on the soft sandy soil of the moors, he dropped behind, to chat with the others, and above all to look at Gilberte.
Never was dandy in the Bois de Boulogne, darting his eyes into his triumphant mistress's superb calèche, so happy and so proud as Emile, as he followed the lovely country girl whom he adored, along the ill-defined roads of that desert, by the light of the first stars.
What did it matter to him whether she was seated on a sort of litter drawn by a sorry nag, or in a fine carriage? whether she was dressed in silk and velvet, or in a faded calico? She wore torn gloves which showed the tips of her pink fingers resting on the back of the wagon. To save her Sunday scarf she had folded it and placed it on her knee. Her graceful figure, slender and willowy, was even more graceful without it. The soft evening breeze seemed to caress with zest her alabaster neck. Emile's breath mingled with the breezes and he was bound like the slave to the chariot of the conqueror.
There was one time when the vehicle, owing to Sylvain's lack of caution, stopped short, and nearly came in collision with Emile's horse's head.
Monsieur Sacripant had placed one paw on the step, to signify that he was tired and that they must take him inside. Monsieur Antoine alighted to seize him by the skin of his neck and toss him in on the floor of the wagon, for the poor beast no longer had enough spring in his legs to jump so high. Meanwhile Gilberte patted Corbeau's nose and passed her little hand through his black mane. Emile felt that his heart was beating as if a magnetic current conveyed her caresses to him. He was on the point of making some remark concerning Corbeau's happiness, as naïve as those Galuchet would have been likely to make on such an occasion; but he contented himself with being stupid silently. One is so happy when, having no lack of wit, he is conscious of an attack of such stupidity!
It was quite dark when they reached Fresselines. The trees and rocks had become simply black masses, whence the solemn and majestic roar of the stream came forth.
A delicious lassitude and the cool night air cast Emile and Gilberte into a sort of blissful drowsiness. They had before them the whole of the next day, a whole century of happiness.
The inn at which they alighted, and which was the best in the village, had only two beds, in two different rooms. They decided that Gilberte should have the better room, and that Monsieur Antoine and Emile should share the other, each taking a mattress. But when they came to inspect the beds, they found that there was but one mattress to each, and Emile took a childish pleasure in the thought of sleeping on the straw in the barn.
This arrangement, which threatened Charasson with a like fate, seemed sorely to displease the page of Châteaubrun. That young man liked his comfort, especially when he was travelling. Being accustomed to attend his master in all his journeys, he made amends for the austere régime of Janille at Châteaubrun by eating and sleeping to his heart's content when away from home.
Monsieur Antoine, while making sport of him with a rough sort of gayety, overlooked all his whims and made himself his slave, talking to him as to a negro all the while. Thus, while Sylvain made a pretence of grooming the horse and harnessing him, it was always his master who handled the curry-comb and lifted the shafts.
If the child fell asleep while driving, Antoine would rub his eyes, pick up the reins, and struggle against sleep rather than wake his page.
If there were only one portion of meat at supper, Monsieur Antoine would say to Charasson, as he feasted his eyes on the appetizing dish: "You may share the bones with Monsieur Sacripant;" but the goodman would, almost unconsciously, gnaw the bones himself and leave the best piece for Sylvain. Thus the crafty urchin knew his master's ways, and the more he was threatened with having to go hungry and work and lose his sleep, the more surely he relied on his lucky star.
However, when he saw that Monsieur Antoine paid no attention to the matter of his sleeping accommodations, and that Emile was content with the straw, he began, while he was serving the supper, to yawn and stretch, and to observe that they had a long journey, that infernal place was at the world's end, and that he had really thought they would never get there.
Antoine turned a deaf ear to it all, and, although the supper was far from dainty, ate with excellent appetite.
"This is how I like to travel," he said, clinking his glass against Emile's every other minute, as a consequence of the habit he had fallen into with Jean Jappeloup; "when I have all the comforts and everybody I love with me. Don't talk to me about taking long journeys in a post-chaise or on a ship, wandering about the world, alone and miserable, in quest of fortune. It's very nice to enjoy the little money one may have, riding about a beautiful region where you know everybody you meet by name, and every house, every tree and every rut! Am I not just as comfortable here as at home? If I had Jean and Janille at the table, I should think I was at Châteaubrun, for I have my daughter here and one of my best friends; and my dog, too, and even Monsieur Charasson, who is as pleased as a king to see the world and be quartered according to his deserts."
"It pleases you to say that, monsieur," replied Charasson, who, instead of waiting on the table, had seated himself in the chimney corner; "this is an abominable inn, and they make you sleep with the dogs."
"Well, you good-for-naught, isn't that too good for you?" retorted Monsieur Antoine, in his sternest voice; "you're very lucky not to be sent to perch with the hens! Deuce take it, you sybarite, you have straw to sleep on; but I suppose you are afraid of dying of hunger in the night, eh?"
"Excuse me, monsieur, the straw here is hay and hay makes your headache."
"If that's so, you can lie on the floor at the foot of my bed, to teach you to complain. You stand like a hunchback, so a hard bed like that will do you a deal of good. Go and prepare your master's bed and spread the horse blanket for Monsieur Sacripant."
Emile wondered what would be the end of this jest, which Monsieur Antoine seemed determined to carry on to the end with a sober face, and, when Gilberte had gone to her room, he followed Monsieur Antoine to his to find out whether he would persuade his page to make the best of the straw.
The count amused himself by causing himself to be waited on like a man of quality. "Come," he said, "pull off my boots, give me my nightcap and put out the lights. You can stretch yourself on the bricks here, and look out for yourself if you are unlucky enough to snore! Good-night, Emile. Go to bed; you won't be vexed with the company of this rascal, who would prevent you from sleeping. He'll sleep on the floor, to punish him for his absurd complaints."
After about two hours' sleep, Emile was awakened with a start by the fall of a heavy body on the straw beside him. "It's nothing, it's only I," said Monsieur Antoine; "don't let me disturb you. I undertook to share my bed with that good-for-naught; but my gentleman, on the plea that he is growing, must needs have the fidgets in his legs, and he kicked me so many times that I abandoned the field to him. Let him sleep in a bed, as he's so set upon it! for my part, I shall be much more comfortable here."
Such was the exemplary punishment which the page of Châteaubrun underwent at Fresselines.
We will leave Emile to forget his appointment with Janille, and to wander over hill and dale with the object of his thoughts; and we will take up the thread of the events in which his destiny is involved, at the Cardonnet factory.
Monsieur Cardonnet was beginning to be seriously annoyed by Emile's continual absences, and to say to himself that the time would soon come to keep watch on and regulate his actions. "Now that his mind is diverted from his socialism," he thought, "it is time for him to take hold of some profitable reality. Argument will have little effect on a mind so addicted to discussion. It seems that his hobby-horse is in the stable for a while, and I won't do anything to make him take him out; but let us see if we cannot replace theories by practice. At his age a man is led by instinct rather than by ideas, although he proudly fancies that the contrary is true; first of all let us bind him down to some practical work and make him devote himself to it, against his will, if necessary. He is too hard-working and intelligent not to do well what he is compelled to do. Gradually whatever employment I may have provided for him will become a necessity to him. He was always like that. Even although he detested the study of the law, he learned the law. Very good, let him finish his law-studies, even if he is destined to hate it more and more, and to relapse into the aberrations which have disturbed me so. I know now that it won't take very much time or a very clever coquette to rid him of the coat of pedagogy of the new schools."
But it was the middle of vacation, and Monsieur Cardonnet had no immediate pretext for sending Emile back to Poitiers. Moreover, he had great hopes of his stay at Gargilesse; for, little by little, Emile overcame his repugnance to the occupations which his father marked out for him from time to time, and seemed to be no longer engrossed by the object for which he had fought so earnestly. All the work that Emile did he did in a superior way and Monsieur Cardonnet flattered himself that he could drive love from his mind when he chose, without impairing the submission and the talents of which he sometimes reaped the fruits.
Nothing was farther from Madame Cardonnet's intention than to call her husband's attention to Emile's strange conduct. If she could have divined the joy which her son derived from absenting himself thus, and the secret of that joy, she would have assisted to save appearances and with more affection than prudence, would have become his accomplice. But she imagined that Monsieur Cardonnet's manner, which was often cold and sarcastic, was the only cause of the discomfort Emile suffered in his father's house; and, nursing a secret grudge against her lord and master therefor, she suffered bitterly because she enjoyed so little of her son's society. When Galuchet returned with the information that Monsieur Emile would not be at home until the evening of the next day or the next but one, she could not restrain her tears, and said in an undertone: "Now he has begun to pass the night away from home! He is not willing even to sleep here; he must be very unhappy!"
"Upon my word, that's a pretty subject for lamentation!" said Monsieur Cardonnet with a shrug. "Is your son a girl, that you are so frightened for him to pass a night away from home? If you begin this way, you are not at the end of your troubles; for this is only the beginning of the escapades a young man is likely to indulge in! Constant," he said to his secretary when they were alone, "who were the people in whose company you met my son?"
"Oh! a very agreeable party, monsieur. Monsieur Antoine de Châteaubrun, who is a high-liver, a stout, jovial man, altogether agreeable in his manners; and his daughter, a superb woman, with a perfect figure, the most attractive creature you can imagine."
"I see that you are a connoisseur, Galuchet, and that you missed none of the damsel's charms."
"Dame!monsieur, when a man has eyes, he uses them," said Galuchet, with a loud laugh of self-satisfaction; for it very rarely happened that his employer did him the honor to talk with him on a subject unconnected with his duties.
"And it is with these same persons, I suppose, that my son continued his romantic excursions?"
"I think so, monsieur; for I saw him in the distance on horseback, as if accompanying them."
"Have you ever been to Châteaubrun, Galuchet?"
"Yes, monsieur, I went there once when the masters were absent, and if I had known that I should find no one there but the old servant I wouldn't have been such a fool."
"Why?"
"Because I might have seen the château for nothing at another time, I have no doubt; whereas that old witch, after showing me around her den, demanded fifty centimes, monsieur, as the price of her condescension! It's a shame to bleed people for showing them such a ruin!"
"I thought that old Antoine had made some repairs since I was there."
"Repairs, monsieur! it's a pitiful sight! They have rebuilt one corner, about as big as your hand, and they didn't even have money enough to put wall-papers on their rooms. The master isn't half so well lodged as I am in your house! It's a depressing place, inside! Heaps of stones in the courtyard to break your legs over, nettles, brambles, no door under a great archway that resembles the entrance to the château of Vincennes and which would be pretty enough if they would give it a coat of plaster of Paris; but all the rest in such a state! Not a wall secure, not a staircase that doesn't shake, cracks big enough to hold a man, ivy that they don't even take the pains to tear down, although it would be easy enough, and rooms that have neither floor nor ceiling! On my word, the people hereabout are genuine Gascons for boasting about their old châteaux, and sending you about on break-neck roads, to find what?—ruins and thistles! Crozant is a stupendous fraud, and Châteaubrun is little better than Crozant!"
"So you were not charmed with Crozant either? But my son seemed to like it immensely, I'll be bound?"
"Monsieur Emile might very well like it, with such a pretty slip of a girl on his arm! If I had been in his shoes I shouldn't have complained overmuch about the place; but for my part, as I went there hoping to catch a trout and didn't get as much as a gudgeon, I am not very well satisfied with my walk, especially as it is twenty kilometres each way, making four myriameters on foot."
"Are you tired, Galuchet?"
"Yes, monsieur, very tired and very dissatisfied! they'll never catch me in their Moorish kings' fortress again."
And Galuchet, recalling with pride his jest of the morning, repeated complacently and with a cunning smile:
"Those kings must have cut a curious figure! doubtless they wore clogs and ate with their fingers."
"You are very bright to-night, Galuchet," rejoined Monsieur Cardonnet, not deigning to smile; "but, smitten as you are, if you were brighter you would find some pretext for calling on old Châteaubrun from time to time."
"I need no pretexts, monsieur," replied Galuchet in an important tone. "I am well acquainted with him; he has often invited me to fish in his stream, and again to-day he urged me to go to breakfast with him some Sunday."
"Very well, why don't you go? I am glad to allow you a little recreation from time to time."
"You are too kind, monsieur; if you don't need me, I will go next Sunday, for I am very fond of fishing."
"Galuchet, my boy, you are an idiot!"
"What's that, monsieur?" said Galuchet, disconcerted.
"I tell you, my dear fellow, you are an idiot," Cardonnet calmly repeated. "You think of nothing but catching gudgeons, when you might be paying court to a pretty girl."
"Oh! I don't know about that, monsieur!" said Galuchet, scratching his ear with a fatuous air; "I should like the girl well enough, that's true! she's a jewel! blue eyes, fair hair that's a metre and a half long, I'll wager, superb teeth, and a mischievous little glance. I could be dead in love with her, if I chose!"
"And why don't you choose?"
"Dame!if I had ten thousand francs of my own, I might suit her! but when one has nothing, one is hardly a suitable match for a girl who has nothing."
"Is your salary equal to her income?"
"Why her income is contingent, and old Janille, who is supposed to be her mother—I must confess, it would be a little distasteful to me to be the son-in-law of a servant,—old Janille would certainly insist on a small sum to begin housekeeping with."
"Do you think ten thousand francs would be enough?"
"I have no idea; but it seems to me that those people have no right to be very ambitious. Their hovel isn't worth four thousand francs; the mountain, the garden, a bit of meadow on the edge of the stream, all overgrown with rushes, and the orchard where there are some fruit trees good for nothing but to burn,—all those together wouldn't bring in a hundred francs a year. They say Monsieur Antoine has a little capital in government securities. It can't be much, judging from the life they lead. But, if I were sure of a thousand francs a year, I would arrange matters with the girl. She pleases me and I am old enough to settle down."
"Monsieur Antoine has twelve hundred francs a year, I know."
"Reverting to his daughter, monsieur?"
"I am sure of it."
"But, although he has recognized her, she is a natural daughter and entitled to only half of it."
"Well, do you feel that you can aspire to her hand now?"
"Thanks, monsieur! What are we to live on? and bring up children?"
"Of course you would need a little capital. We might be able to find that for you, Galuchet, if your happiness absolutely depended on it."
"I do not know how to acknowledge your kindness, monsieur, but——"
"But what? come, don't scratch your ear so much, but answer."
"I don't dare, monsieur."
"Why not? don't I talk to you as if I were your friend?"
"I am deeply touched by it," rejoined Galuchet, "but——"
"But you annoy me. Speak, in heaven's name!"
"Well, monsieur, even though you should call me a fool again, I will say what I think. I think that Monsieur Emile is paying court to that young lady."
"Do you mean it?" exclaimed Monsieur Cardonnet, feigning surprise.
"If monsieur is not aware of it, I should be very sorry to be the cause of trouble between him and his son."
"Is there any common rumor to that effect?"
"I don't know whether people are talking about it; I pay little attention to gossip; but I myself have noticed that Monsieur Emile goes to Châteaubrun very often."
"What does that prove?"
"That is as monsieur may choose to think, and it is all the same to me. I simply meant to say that if I had any idea of marrying a young woman, I should not be very well pleased to come in second."
"I can imagine that. But it is hardly likely that my son would pay serious attention to a young woman whom he neither would nor could marry. My son has lofty sentiments, he would never descend to a falsehood, to false promises. If the girl is virtuous, be assured that her relations with Emile are entirely innocent. Isn't that your opinion?"
"I will have whatever opinion monsieur may desire on that subject."
"That is altogether too accommodating! If you were in love with Mademoiselle de Châteaubrun, wouldn't you try to find out the truth for yourself?"
"Certainly, monsieur; but I can hardly be in love with her, having seen her but once."
"Well, listen to me, Galuchet: you can do me a service. What you have just told me makes me a little more anxious than it makes you, and all that we have been saying, by way of conjecture and jest, will have at all events, the serious result of having warned me of certain dangers. I tell you again that my son is too honorable a man to seduce a penniless, inexperienced girl; but it might happen to him, if he sees her too often, to conceive for her somewhat too warm a feeling, which would expose them both to temporary but unnecessary suffering. It would be very easy for me to cut the whole thing off short by sending Emile away at once; but that would interfere with the plan I have formed of training him to share my occupations, and I regret to be compelled for so unimportant a reason to part with him under present circumstances. Consent therefore to help me. You are sure of a warm welcome at Châteaubrun; go there often, as often as my son; make yourself the friend of the family. Père Antoine's unsuspecting nature will assist you. Look about you, observe, and report to me all that happens. If your presence annoys my son, it will be a proof that the danger exists; if he tries to have you turned out, stand your ground, and pose unhesitatingly as an aspirant to the young lady's hand."
"And what if I am accepted?"
"So much the better for you!"
"That depends, monsieur, on how far things have gone between her and your son."
"You must be very simple if with time and address you can't find out about that, as you are going there in the quality of an observer."
"And suppose I find that I have arrived too late?"
"You will retire."
"I shall have made a ridiculous campaign, and Monsieur Emile will bear me a grudge for it."
"Galuchet, I don't ask anything for nothing. Certainly, all this can't be done without some ennui and some unpleasantness for you; but there's a good bonus at the end of all the sacrifices I ask you to make."
"That's enough, monsieur, and I have only one other word to say; and that is that in case the girl should suit me, and I should suit her too, I should be too poor at this moment to go to housekeeping."
"We have already anticipated that contingency. I would assist you to make a position for yourself. For example, you undertake to work for me for a certain time, and I make you an advance of five thousand francs on your salary, and a bonus of five thousand francs in addition, if necessary."
"This is no longer a jest, a conjecture, I suppose?" said Galuchet, scratching his head harder than ever.
"I don't often jest, as you know, and this time I am not jesting at all."
"Very good, monsieur; you are too kind to me. I will plant myself beside Monsieur Emile, and he will be very shrewd if I lose sight of him!"
"He will be shrewder than you, and that will not be difficult," thought Monsieur Cardonnet as soon as Galuchet had retired; "but a rival of your sort will be enough to make him feel humiliated by his choice, very soon; and if she prefers a dull lout like you for a husband to a handsome chance suitor like him, he will have received a useful lesson. In that event a trifling sacrifice for Monsieur Galuchet's establishment would not be draining the sea dry, especially as that would keep him in my service and cut short his ambition to leave me. But that is the worst possible result of my plan, and Galuchet has twenty chances to one of being shown the door sooner or later. Meanwhile I shall have had time to think of something better, and I shall at all events have succeeded in worrying Emile, in disenchanting him, in fastening to his sides an enemy whom he will hardly know how to combat—ennui in the shape of Constant Galuchet."
Cardonnet's idea did not lack depth, and if it had not been too soon or too late for Emile to renounce his illusions, it might have been successful. Any sort of competition stimulates vulgar minds, but a refined mind suffers from an unworthy rivalry. An exalted nature will infallibly be disgusted with the being who takes pleasure in the homage of stupidity; the mere fact that the object of his adoration tolerates such homage too patiently may be enough to cause him to blush and take himself away. But Cardonnet reckoned without Gilberte's pride.
Emile returned from his excursion more inflamed with passion than ever, and in such a state of blissful enthusiasm that it seemed to him impossible that he should not triumph over everything. The generous Gilberte had powerfully assisted his illusion by sharing it, and therein she had shown herself, by her lack of prudence and her openness of heart, the worthy child of Antoine. Emile might well have reproached himself, however, for having gone so far with her without having first made sure of Monsieur Cardonnet's consent. That was a terrible imprudence; indeed it was culpable rashness; for, unless a miracle should happen, he could reckon on his father's refusal. But Emile was in that state of delirious excitement in which one reckons on miracles and deems himself almost a god because he is loved.
However, he returned to Gargilesse without having made up his mind at what moment he would announce his sentiments to his family; for Gilberte had insisted that he should do nothing suddenly, and had received his promise to begin by gradually appealing to the affection of his parents, by governing his conduct in accordance with their wishes. Thus Emile was to make amends for an absence which had doubtless caused them some anxiety, by staying with them all the rest of the week and working zealously at whatever his father chose to give him to do. "You must not come to see us until next Sunday," Gilberte had said when they parted, "and then we will arrange our plans for the following week." The poor child felt that she must live from day to day, and, like Emile, she derived infinite pleasure from caressing in her thoughts the mystery of a love of which they alone realized the charm and the depth.
Emile kept his word. He did not absent himself from home during the week, and contented himself with writing Monsieur de Boisguilbault an affectionate letter to set his mind at rest concerning his sentiments, in case the suspicious old man should take alarm because he did not see him. He followed his father like a shadow; he even asked him for employment, and devoted himself to the construction of the factory like one who took the deepest interest in the success of the undertaking. But, as it is not natural to do violence to one's own heart for long, it was impossible for him to push the indolent workmen. Monsieur Cardonnet derived no sort of benefit from the employment of men of that description. They lacked energy, and the rivalry of the more active produced discouragement in them instead of emulation. They were well paid, but, as they saw, from the master's dissatisfaction, that they would not be retained long, they determined to make the most of the present, and consequently economized in their food. When Emile saw them sitting on the damp stones, with their feet in the mud, eating a piece of black bread and raw onions, like the Hebrew slaves employed in building the Pyramids, he had such a feeling of compassion for them that he would have preferred giving them his own blood to drink, to abandoning them to that slow death of toil and starvation.
Thereupon, he tried to persuade his father, since he could not save all those numerous lives, to afford them at all events some temporary relief by feeding them better than they fed themselves, or by giving them, at least, a little wine. But Monsieur Cardonnet reminded him, only too justly, that, as all the vines were frozen in the preceding year, they could not obtain wine in that country except at a very high price, and that it was for the table of the bourgeois only. Where no general system of economy was practised, it was easy to prove that economy in special directions was powerless to bring about any important amelioration, and to demonstrate, by the unanswerable evidence of figures, that they must either abandon the idea of building or compel the mechanic to undergo the unpleasant necessities of his position. Monsieur Cardonnet did his utmost to remedy the evil, but that utmost was confined within narrow limits. Emile submitted and sighed; he could give Gilberte no stronger proof of his love than to hold his peace.
"Well," said Monsieur Cardonnet, "I see that you will never be very sharp in the matter of superintending; but when I am no longer in this world, it will be enough if you realize the need of having a good superintendent in my place. The material part of the work is the least poetic; you will find your field of activity in the direction of art and science, which have their place in manufacturing as in everything else. Come to my study, help me to understand the things that escape my comprehension, and place your genius at the service of my energy."
During that week Emile had to read, to study, to comprehend and to summarize several works on hydrostatics. Monsieur Cardonnet did not think that he really needed to have that work done, but it was one way of testing Emile, and he was overjoyed by his rapidity and mental keenness. Such studies could arouse no disgust in a mind occupied with theories. Anything connected with science may have some useful application in the future, and when one has not under his eyes the deplorable conditions through which social inequality compels the men of the present day to pass, in the execution of any work, he may well become deeply interested in the abstract theories of science. Monsieur Cardonnet recognized Emile's lofty intelligence and said to himself that, with such eminent faculties, it was not possible that he would always close his eyes to what he called evidence.
When Sunday arrived, it seemed to Emile that a century had passed since he had seen that enchanted palace of Châteaubrun, where, in his eyes, nature was lovelier, the air softer and the light more glorious than in any spot on earth. He began with Boisguilbault however; for he remembered that Constant Galuchet was to breakfast at Châteaubrun, and he hoped that uninteresting individual would have departed or would be busy with his fishing when he arrived; but he was far from anticipating Monsieur Constant's Machiavelism. He found him still at table with Monsieur Antoine, a little overburdened by the native wine, to which he was not accustomed, shuffling about on his chair and making commonplace remarks, while Gilberte, sitting in the courtyard, waited impatiently until a relaxation of vigilance on Janille's part should enable her to go out on the terrace and watch for her lover's coming.
But Janille did not relax her vigilance; she was prowling about in every corner of the ruins and was on the spot to receive half the salutation which Emile addressed to Gilberte. But Emile saw, at the first glance, that she had said nothing.
"Really, monsieur," she said, lisping with more affectation than usual, "you are not polite, and you have nearly caused a rivals' quarrel between my girl and me. What! you lead me to hope that you will come and keep me company in her absence, you even go so far as to appoint a day, and then, instead of coming here, you go and enjoy yourself taking an excursion with mademoiselle, on the pretext that she is forty years younger than me! as if that was my fault, and as if I am not as light of foot and as lively to talk with as a mere girl! It was very rude on your part, and you have done well to let my anger lie for a few days; for if you had come sooner you would have had a very cold reception."
"Hasn't Monsieur Antoine justified me," rejoined Emile, "by telling you how entirely unforeseen our meeting at Crozant was, and that our trip to Saint Germain was suggested by him on the spur of the moment? Forgive me, dear Mademoiselle Janille, and be sure that nothing less than being ten leagues away would have induced me to break my appointment with you."
"I know, I know," said Janille, in a meaning tone, "that it was Monsieur Antoine who did all the harm; he is so inconsiderate! but I should have thought that you would be more reasonable."
"I am very reasonable, my dear Janille," replied Emile in the same tone, "and I have proved it by passing the week with my father, working to please him, in spite of my longing to come and obtain my pardon."
"And you did well, my boy; for it is a good thing for young men to be employed."
"You will be satisfied with me hereafter," said Emile, glancing at Gilberte, "and my father has already forgiven me for the time I have wasted. He is very kind to me, and I will show my appreciation of his kindness by forcing myself to undergo the most painful sacrifices, even that of seeing you a little less frequently henceforth, Mademoiselle Janille; so scold me to-day, quickly, but not too hard, and forgive me even more quickly, for I shall probably be able to come here very seldom for several weeks. I have much work to do, and my courage would fail me if I knew that you were angry with me."
"Well, well, you are a good boy, and no one can bear you a grudge," said Janille. "I see," she added with a knowing air, lowering her voice, "that we understand each other perfectly without any further explanation, and that it's a good thing to have people of honor and good sense like you to deal with."
This result of the explanations threatened by Janille relieved Emile from a great anxiety. His position was quite serious enough, without being complicated by the alarms and questions of that faithful retainer. The advice Gilberte had given him, to come more rarely and to let time do its work, was thus proved to be most judicious, and if she had been a trained diplomatist, she could not have acted more shrewdly on that occasion. In very truth, how many marriages between persons of unequal fortune would become possible, did not the woman, by her exactions, her pride or her suspicion, involve the man enamored of her in a labyrinth of suffering and anxiety, amid which his prudence and courage in overcoming obstacles fail him! With Gilberte's childlike innocence was blended calm common sense and unselfish courage. She did not look upon her union with Emile as possible until after several years, and she felt that her love was strong enough to wait. That cruel future appeared to her heart, overflowing with faith, like a day radiant with sunshine; and therein she was not so foolish as some might think. It is faith and not prudence that moves mountains.
Emile had forgotten even Constant Galuchet's name when he found himself once more within the walls of the dear old château; and when he went in to salute Monsieur Antoine, the stupid features of his father's clerk produced the same effect upon him that a caterpillar produces upon one who puts out his hand unsuspiciously to pluck a fruit. Galuchet had prepared to greet Emile with the assured air of a man who has taken possession first of a coveted seat, and who can afford an affable greeting to those who come too late. A little more and he would have done the honors of the château to Emile. But the young man's cold and mocking glance, as he replied to his familiar and effusive salutation, disconcerted him sadly; that glance seemed to say to him:
"What are you doing here?"
Meanwhile Galuchet, who thought much more of earning Monsieur Cardonnet's liberality than of winning Gilberte's good graces, made a mighty effort to recover his self-possession, and his face, while not expressing actual hostility, assumed an unaccustomed air of insolence which was, under the circumstances, as injudicious as possible.
Emile had determined to make the best of the native wine, and, in order not to offend Monsieur de Châteaubrun, he did not refuse to drink with him on his arrival. It may be that, by virtue of the utter fascination which took possession of him in the place where Gilberte passed her days, he really considered that thin, sour beverage better than all the choice wines in his father's cellar. But on this occasion it seemed bitter to him, when Galuchet, assuming the air of a man who condescends to howl with the wolves, put out his glass toward his, proposing to touch glasses after the manner of Monsieur de Châteaubrun. He accompanied this familiarity with an unpleasantly vulgar movement of the elbow and shoulder, thinking to imitate in jovial mood Monsieur Antoine's patriarchal simplicity.
"Monsieur le comte," said Emile, ostentatiously treating Antoine with even more respect than usual, "I fear that you have induced Monsieur Constant Galuchet to drink too much. See how red his eyes are and how he stares! Be careful; I warn you that his head is very weak."
"My head weak, Monsieur Emile! why do you say that my head is weak?" retorted Galuchet. "You have never seen me drunk, so far as I know."
"This will be the first time that I shall have had that pleasure, if you continue to drink as you are doing."
"So it would give you pleasure to see me commit an impropriety?"
"I trust that will not happen, if you follow my advice."
"Very good," said Galuchet, rising, "if Monsieur Antoine cares to take a walk, I shall be glad to offer my arm to Mademoiselle Gilberte, and then you can see if I walk crooked."
"I prefer not to risk the experiment," said Gilberte, who was sitting at the door of the pavilion, caressing Monsieur Sacripant.
"So you take sides against me, too, Mademoiselle Gilberte?" rejoined Galuchet, walking toward her; "do you believe what Monsieur Emile says?"
"My daughter takes sides against no one, monsieur," said Janille, "and I don't understand why you bother your head about somebody who doesn't bother her head about you."
"If you forbid her to take my arm," replied Galuchet, "I have nothing to say. It seems to me, however, that it's no breach of true French courtesy to offer a young lady your arm."
"My mother does not forbid me to accept your arm, monsieur," said Gilberte, sweetly but with much dignity; "but I thank you for your courtesy. I am not a Parisian and I can hardly appreciate the custom of taking a support in walking. Besides, our paths do not permit that custom."
"Your paths are no worse than those at Crozant, and the rougher they are the more need there is for people to help one another. I saw you plainly enough at Crozant put your lovely hand on Monsieur Emile's shoulder, to go down the mountain; oh! I saw it, Mademoiselle Gilberte, and I would have liked right well to be in his place!"
"Monsieur Galuchet, if you had not drunk beyond all reason," said Emile, "you would not concern yourself so much about me, and I beg you not to concern yourself about me at all."
"Hoity-toity! now you are losing your temper, are you?" said Galuchet, trying to adopt a good-natured tone. "Everybody is hard on me here, except Monsieur Antoine."
"Perhaps that is because you are a little too familiar with everybody," retorted Emile.
"What's going on here?" said Jean Jappeloup, entering the room. "Are you quarreling? Here am I, to make peace. Good-day,ma mieJanille; good-day, my Gilberte du bon Dieu; good-day, friend Emile; good-day, Antoine, my master: and good-day, you," he said to Galuchet; "I don't know you, but it's all the same. Ah! it's Père Cardonnet's man of business!—Ah! good-day to you, my dear Monsieur Sacripant; I didn't notice your greeting."
"Vive Dieu!" cried Antoine, "better late than never; but do you know, Jean, you are going wrong? When we only have one day a week to see you,—and God knows how long the week is without you!—you get here at noon on Sunday!"
"Listen, master——"
"I don't want you to call me master."
"What if I choose to call you so? I was your master long enough, and it would be a bore to me to give orders all the time. Now, I choose to be your apprentice, for a little change. Come, give me something fresh and cool to drink, quickly, Janille. I am warm! Not that I am hungry; they wouldn't let me go after mass, my good friends at Gargilesse! I must needs stop and chatter a little with Mère Laroze, and you can't keep your throat from getting dry when you talk without drinking. But I came fast, because I knew you would be thinking about me here. You see, Gilberte, since I came back to the old place the Sunday would have to be forty-eight hours long to allow me to satisfy all the friends who are glad to see me!"
"Well, my dear Jean, if you are happy, that consoles us a little for seeing you less often," said Gilberte.
"Happy?" rejoined the carpenter; "there's no happier man than I on the face of the earth!"
"That's easy to see," said Janille. "See how he has cheered up since he ceased to be tracked every morning like an old rabbit! And then he shaves every Sunday now, and he has new clothes that look very well on him."
"And who was it who spun the wool for this pretty drugget?" said Jean. "Why,ma mieJanille and the good Lord's child! And who gave the wool? my master's sheep. And who paid the cost? it is paid in friendship here. You don't have coats like this, bourgeois. I wouldn't change my fustian jacket for your black broadcloth swallow-tail."
"I would be satisfied with the spinstress," observed Galuchet, glancing at Gilberte.
"You?" said Jean, good-humoredly bringing his hand down on Galuchet's shoulder with force enough to crush an ox; "you have spinstresses like this one? Why,ma mieJanille is too young for you, my boy; and as for the other, I would kill her if she should spin a bit of wool as long as your nose for you!"
Galuchet was wounded by this allusion to his flat nose, and retorted, rubbing his shoulder:
"Look you, peasant, your manners aretoo touching; joke with your equals, I have nothing to say to you."
"What's this gentleman's name?" Jean asked Monsieur Antoine. "I can't remember his devil of a name."
"Come, come, Jean, you go a little too fast, old fellow," replied Monsieur Antoine. "Don't undertake to tease Monsieur Galuchet; he's a very worthy young man, and, furthermore, he is my guest."
"Well said, master! Let us make peace, Monsieur Maljuché. Will you have a pinch of snuff?"
"I don't use it," replied Galuchet, haughtily. "With Monsieur Antoine's permission, I will leave the table."
"At your pleasure, young man, at your pleasure," said the châtelain. "Monsieur Emile doesn't enjoy long sessions either, and you can stroll about a bit. Janille will show you the château, or, if you prefer to go down to the brook, get your lines ready. We will join you directly, and take you where you will find good sport."
"Oh! yes," said the carpenter, "he's a fisher of small fry! He does nothing else every evening at Gargilesse, and when anyone speaks to him he makes a wry face because it disturbs his fish. Well, we will go directly and help him to catch something better than his small fry. Look you, Monsieur Maljuché, if I don't put you in the way of carrying home a salmon for your supper, I'll agree to change names with you. You don't need to be in such a hurry. The boat should be in good condition, for I nailed a plank in its belly not long ago. We'll find an old harpoon somewhere, and theDevil's Rock, where the salmon usually go to take a nap in the sun, isn't far away. But it's a dangerous place, and you must not go alone."
"We will all go," said Gilberte, "if Jean manages the boat. It's very interesting sport, and the place itself is magnificent."
"Oh! if you are coming, Mademoiselle Gilberte, I will await your pleasure," said Galuchet.
"Hear that! wouldn't anyone think she was going on your account, paper-scratcher? This youngster is impertinent beyond everything. Is everybody like that where you come from? Oh! don't put on that indignant expression and look over your shoulder, for it doesn't frighten me much. If you choose to be agreeable, I will be, too; but if, just because you are dressed in black like a notary, you think you can leave the table when I remain, you are much mistaken. Sit down, sit down, Maljuché! I haven't finished drinking, and you are going to drink with me."
"I have had enough," said Galuchet, resisting. "I tell you I have had enough!"
But the carpenter would have broken him in two like a lath rather than let him go. He forced him to sit down again on the bench and swallow several more bumpers, Galuchet striving to show a bold front to evil-fortune, and Monsieur Antoine shielding him ineffectually against his old friend's malicious shafts, although he did not share the antipathy which the secretary's face and manners aroused in the rest of the family.
Emile had slowly followed Gilberte and Janille into the courtyard, and, despite the little old woman's jealous watchfulness, he had succeeded in telling his sweetheart that he had obeyed her orders zealously, and that he found his father in such a favorable frame of mind that he could safely risk some overture in the following week. But Gilberte thought that the risk would be too great, and urged him to persevere in that sedentary, laborious life. Courage seemed easy to them both. Now that Emile was sure that he was loved, he was so happy that he thought that he could demand nothing more of fortune for a long while. There was a divine tranquillity in the depths of his heart. Gilberte's clear and searching glance said so many things to him now!
There is, in the dawn of a lover's happiness, a moment of tranquil beatitude, when the most penetrating observer would have difficulty in detecting the secret on the surface. The desire to see and speak to each other every hour seems to disappear with the anxious longing to reach an understanding. When their hearts are bound together by a mutual avowal, neither witnesses nor separation can embarrass them or part them in reality. Thus the clear-sighted Janille was deceived by their peaceful merriment and by the prudence which comes only when suffering and doubt are at an end. The perturbation which Janille had often noticed in young Cardonnet, the sudden flush that rose to Gilberte's cheeks at certain words of which she alone had grasped the meaning, her sadness and her ill-designed agitation when he was late in coming, all had vanished since the trip to Crozant, and Janille was amazed that an incident the consequences of which she had dreaded had caused a favorable change in the state of affairs.
"I was mistaken," she said to herself. "My girl is not thinking too much about him; and if he thinks of her, he will know enough to say nothing, and draw back little by little, rather than endanger our repose. He is behaving well, and it would be a pity to hurt his feelings, since he understood me with half a word, and is carrying out my wishes of his own accord."
If Jean Jappeloup had conspired with Emile to take vengeance on Galuchet for his pretensions, he could have done no better than he did; for during more than an hour, while the lovers were strolling about with Janille in the neighborhood of the pavilion, he employed sometimes cunning raillery, sometimes open force to keep him at the table and make him drink,willy-nilly. In this test, which was beyond his strength, Galuchet soon lost the little good sense with which nature had endowed him. He was much scandalized at first by the châtelain's habits and conceived a profound contempt for him whom he regarded as the count's companion in debauchery. In a word, Galuchet, who had no trace of elevation in his feelings or his ideas, and who was not worth a single hair from the heads of those two rough-spoken worthies, deemed himself degraded, and promised himself that he would, in his report to his master, depict in startling colors the painful task he had undertaken. But, as he drank, his wits went astray altogether, his vulgar instincts gained the upper hand of his secret vanity, and he began to laugh, to pound on the table, to talk loud, to boast of innumerable feats of valor, and to make such a pitiful exhibition of himself, that Jappeloup, who was as refined as his manners were abrupt, took compassion on him and gave him a severe lecture with a cold and serious air.
"You don't know how to drink, my friend," he said; "you are ugly when you laugh and you are stupid when you try to be witty. If I ventured to give Monsieur Antoine a piece of advice, it would be to give you a glass of water when you come to breakfast with him, otherwise you might make remarks before his daughter that would force me to put you out of doors. You thought, when you saw us all so merry and so unceremonious with one another, that we were vulgar folk and that you must become vulgar to descend to our level. You made a mistake. Whoever has nothing evil in his heart or unclean in his mind can let himself go; and even if I should be so drunk that I couldn't stand, I shouldn't be afraid that I could be made to blush the next day for anything I had said. It seems that it's not the same with you; that is why you do well to dress in black from head to foot and make people who don't know you think you're a gentleman; for if there is a peasant here, you are the man!"
Antoine tried to soften the sermon, and Galuchet tried to get angry. Jean shrugged his shoulders and left the table to avoid having to give him a lesson more appropriate to the state of his intellect.
When they left the pavilion Galuchet was still walking straight; but his head was so heavy and so heated, that he dared not utter a word before Gilberte, for fear of saying one thing for another.
"Well," said Gilberte to Jappeloup, "are we going to the Devil's Rock? It's more than a year since I was there; Janille will never let father take me there because she says it's too dangerous and one can't afford to be absent-minded there; but she will let me go with you, my good Jean! Do you feel that your hand is still strong and your eye sure enough?"
"I?" said Jappeloup, "why, I feel as well equal to the task as if I were no more than twenty-five."
"And you are not tipsy?" said Janille, taking hold of Jean's sleeve and standing on tiptoe to look into his eyes.
"Look, look all you please," said he. "If you can do this, I will agree that I am tipsy!" And he placed on his head a pitcher of water that Janille was carrying, and ran several yards without upsetting it.
"Very good," said Janille; "I could do as much if I chose, but it's no use; I am sure of you, and I trust my girl with you. For my part, I haven't the time to go along. Do you, Monsieur Emile, just keep an eye on the father, for he is quite capable of trying to step ashore in mid-stream, if he is busy laughing or talking."
"And who will keep an eye on Maljuché?" queried Jappeloup, pointing to Galuchet, who had gone ahead with Monsieur Antoine. "I won't be responsible for him."
"Nor I," said Gilberte.
"Never fear," said Emile, "I will undertake to keep him quiet."
"It's not at all certain that you will succeed," rejoined Jean; "if he isn't drunk, he's something like it. You can't say that he's downrightrich, but he's justcomfortable. A bed would be better for him than a boat."
"You can notice how he goes down the mountain," suggested Janille; "and if there's danger of his sinking you, leave him on the rocks on the bank."
Galuchet was already in the boat with Monsieur de Châteaubrun when the others arrived. He was flushed and silent. But when they were in midstream the swift current made him dizzy and he began to sway so violently from side to side that Jappeloup, losing patience, took a rope and bound his body securely to the thwart on which he sat. He fell asleep in that position.
"You have a delightful secretary there," said Gilberte to Emile. "I trust, dear papa, that you won't invite him to breakfast again."
"Oh! bless my soul, it's not his fault," replied Monsieur Antoine, "but Jean's, who made him drink more than he wanted."
"What does a man amount to who can't drink without getting drunk?" said Jean; "he's worse than nobody."
The boat glided swiftly down-stream to a spot where the rocks on each side approached so nearly that it was impossible to pass without great danger. Jean was one of the most powerful men in the province. His fearless nature and his strong will added tenfold to his physical strength. He was accustomed to enter into the most trivial undertakings with as much passionate enthusiasm as if he were setting out to conquer the world; and yet, notwithstanding this youthful excitability, his presence of mind was wonderful. He guided the boat in the centre of the current, and, when they entered the narrow passage, threw her across the stream and avoided the shock of a collision with the cliff by leaning out and grasping it with his hand. Emile, who seconded him, gallantly relieved him from time to time, and, the boat being thus held in place, they made ready the harpoon and waited in silence for the prey to pass. Every one knows that the fish always try to swim up against the current, but they were frightened by the unusual barrier and kept approaching and retreating. The lookout leaned forward, stretching his arms as far as he could. Monsieur Antoine and Gilberte, kneeling behind him, watched to see that the movement he made in throwing the harpoon did not sink the boat or drag him overboard. Gilberte, when it was the carpenter's turn, clung to his coat, fearing that he would fall into the water; and when Emile's turn came, she earnestly urged her father to hold him with all his strength. But soon, trusting to no one else, she seized his jacket herself, and more than once he felt the touch of her lovely arms, ready to embrace him in case of accident.
In this situation, which was dangerous for all, Jean's attention and Antoine's was completely absorbed by the excitement of fishing, and the same excitement served the two lovers as a pretext for exchanging glances and words, which Galuchet, although half awake, was in no condition to observe. What would Monsieur Cardonnet have thought could he have seen how well his agent was earning his reward!
At last a salmon was speared, amid frantic shouts from Jean Jappeloup, and Galuchet, partly aroused by the sight of the capture, tried to take a hand in landing him. But his clumsiness and obstinacy spoiled everything, and Jean, beside himself with wrath, turned the boat around, saying:
"When you want to fish for salmon, you will go with somebody besides me. Gudgeons of this size aren't in your line, and if we stayed here long, I should break your head with the shaft of my harpoon."
"God preserve me from coming again with such a boor as you," retorted Galuchet, sitting on the edge of the boat.
"Don't sit there," said the carpenter; "you are in my way, and you would do much better to help me pull up against this current, which runs like a mill-race. Here is Monsieur Emile working like a good fellow, and you, stout and strong as you are, fold your arms and watch the sweat roll off us."
"Faith, it's your own fault," retorted Galuchet; "you made me drink and I am good for nothing."
"Very good, but you are heavy, and as you are not working you can go ashore. To the bank, to the bank, my little Emile! let us get rid of bundles that are in the way!"
They headed for the shore; but Galuchet considered the proposed step insulting, and refused to land, blaspheming in the most reckless way.
"Ten thousand devils!" cried Jappeloup, thoroughly angry, "you have made me lose a superb salmon, but you shan't make me break my back in your service!"
And he pushed him out of the boat; but Galuchet, because he resisted, fell between the boat and the bank, into the water, up to his waist.
"Faith, that's well done," said Jappeloup, "that will put a little water in your wine."
And he pulled the boat rapidly out of Galuchet's reach, for, in his rage, he tried to upset her.
"Ah! the miserable fellow!" cried the carpenter, "confess, that if there are some good beasts, there are many vicious ones. Let him wallow," he said to his companions, who feared that poor Galuchet, because of his fuddled condition, might drown, although the water was not dangerously deep. "If he sinks too far I'll stick my harpoon in his belt and fish him up like a salmon. Bah! if it were anything of value, we might have reason to be anxious, but things that are good for nothing, dead cats and empty bottles, always float."
In a few moments Galuchet jumped up on the bank, shook his fist and vanished.
This ridiculous incident depressed Gilberte. For the first time she detected a serious inconvenience in her father's too great good-nature. His rustic and simple manners, which were those of the people about him and were the expression of a kindly and innocent nature, began to terrify her, as not affording such enlightened and judicious protection as her age and sex demanded.
"I am a poor country girl," she said to herself, "and I can get along very well with peasants; but on the condition that no ill-bred semi-bourgeois undertakes to interfere; for then the peasants become a little too violent in their wrath, and the life I lead does not put me out of reach of a coward's revenge."
Thereupon she thought of Emile as a protector destined for her by heaven; but she asked herself amid what surroundings he himself was compelled to live, and the idea that Monsieur Cardonnet employed people of the Galuchet species caused her a sort of vague alarm with regard to his character and habits.
When Jean Jappeloup returned to Gargilesse that evening, he found Galuchet lying like a dead man in the middle of the road. The poor devil, sobered momentarily by the bath he had taken, had entered a wineshop to dry his clothes, and as he was afraid of his health, he had allowed himself to be persuaded to take a glass of eau-de-vie, which had finished him. He was returning home literally on all fours. Jean had had time to forget his anger, nor was he the man to leave a fellow-man in danger of being trampled upon by horses' feet. He lifted him up, submitted patiently to his threats and insults, and led him, more than half carrying him, to the factory; and Galuchet, who did not recognize him, went in, swearing that he would be revenged on the scoundrel who had tried to drown him.