Skip to content

Chapter X: Robineau’s Entry Into His Domain

Text size

They took the road which the shepherd had attempted to take, and which was supposed to lead them to Saint-Amand. This time it was Robineau who walked ahead; he tried to hurry his companions, by running forward and then returning to them. Alfred and Edouard said nothing and paid little heed to any of Robineau’s manœuvres; they were thinking of Isaure and the memory of the young goatherd caused them to forget their destination.

"Upon my word, she is charming!" cried Alfred at last; "I would never have believed that in these mountains--in a mere cottage--one could find so many charms and attractions. The shepherd was quite right--she doesn’t resemble any of the women of Auvergne we have seen hitherto; and still the girl I danced with at Ayda was not bad-looking--but so heavy and awkward! She was a genuine mountaineer, whereas this child--Don’t you agree with me, Edouard?"

"Yes, the girl is very pretty."

"Very pretty! How coldly you say that, for a poet! Say rather that she is adorable, enchanting--that she would drive people wild in Paris!"

Edouard did not answer, but Alfred’s enthusiasm seemed to annoy him.

"You take fire on account of that little shepherdess, messieurs," said Robineau; "but mon Dieu! you’ll see a different sort on my domain! They say that there are some very buxom village girls near my château."

"I don’t care for buxom women, my dear Robineau!"

"I mean well-built--robust."

"I don’t care for robust women."

"But I mean well-shaped, wanton creatures."

"I don’t care for wantons."

"Oh! go to walk!"[7]

"Why, that is what we have been doing for a long while."

The young men passed divers lovely hillsides covered with vines. The landscape was charming--fields, pastures, orchards everywhere. Soon they saw before them a small town most delightfully situated on the banks of a winding stream. Some peasants informed them that they were at Saint-Amand.

"And La Roche-Noire?" inquired Robineau.

"Oh! that ain’t very far away, monsieur; but you don’t want to go through Saint-Amand. Turn off here--to Saint-Saturnin; you’ll find the way easy enough."

"Good!" said Robineau; "my property is evidently known here; forward, messieurs."

"Why, you go like a stag, Robineau! Give us a little chance to breathe."

"I shan’t breathe until I am at my château."

And Robineau hastened forward, although the perspiration was streaming from his brow and he was as red as a boiled lobster. After walking another quarter of an hour, the young men overtook two young peasants who were driving a laden ass.

"Where are you going, my friends?" asked Robineau.

"Home, monsieur."

"Where do you live?"

"About a half a league from here, near the Château de la Roche-Noire."

"Near La Roche-Noire!" cried Robineau, in an ecstasy of delight. "They are two of my vassals!"

"Your vassals are slightly soiled," observed Alfred.

"Parbleu! in the morning; but I consider them charming, myself. Listen, my little Cupids."

The two peasants, who had no idea that they were the ones who were called Cupids, continued to urge their ass forward; but Robineau overtook them again and stopped them.

"Listen, my children: you say that you live near La Roche-Noire?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Then of course you know the château?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Is it a fine château?"

"Oh! yes, monsieur, it’s very fine! It’s just like a prison--there’s towers and barred windows!"

Alfred roared with laughter; but Robineau continued his examination.

"My friends, it is well that you should know that I am the new lord, the proprietor of that magnificent estate."

The little peasants stared at him with a stupid expression, still plying their stick; and Alfred observed with a laugh:

"How strange; that doesn’t seem to produce any effect at all."

"My children," pursued Robineau, "you probably didn’t understand what I said--I am the proprietor of La Roche-Noire."

"Yes, monsieur, we understand. But they looked for you last night, monsieur."

"They looked for me!--You see, messieurs, they expected me--I was sure of it!--Poor children! You had a fête all prepared, I suppose?"

"Oh! I don’t know, monsieur; all I know is that a gentleman came to our place yesterday, and sung out that his master was coming and we must dance and enjoy ourselves because he’d treat us well. Then my brother and me, we went in front of the château to play the bagpipes, and we waited for the man as was going to treat us. But there didn’t nobody come, and so our father, who was mad because we’d been to the château, he wouldn’t give us no supper when we got home, and he said that would teach us to make fools of ourselves."

"You shall have two suppers to-day, my children, I promise you, and your father shall see what kind of man I am! But you must do something for me. Just run ahead; you’re not tired, you boys! You will reach the château before we do, and you must ask for François, my valet, and tell him I am coming. Go on; leave your ass with me; I’ll mount him and that will rest me a little. He isn’t a very noble steed; but when one has been walking twenty-four hours, one takes what one finds.--Go on."

The boys looked at each other and did not stir.

"Didn’t you hear me?" asked Robineau.

"Yes, monsieur; but we can’t leave our donkey with you like that; all you’d have to do would be to ride off on him and we’d never see you again!"

"What, you little rascals! you take your lord for a thief?"

"My dear Robineau," said Alfred, "these boys are quite right not to leave their ass in your hands; for, after all, they don’t know you, and you haven’t the least idea how to play the _seigneur_. Do you suppose that all you have to do is to say: ‘I am the man?’--Prove it; draw your purse; that’s always the way to make people recognize you."

"Ah! to be sure, I didn’t think of that!" cried Robineau; and he immediately produced a five-franc piece and gave it to one of the small boys. The sight of the coin produced much more effect on the peasants than all the titles in the world. The elder consented to run on ahead to the château, and the younger allowed Robineau to ride the ass, on condition that he himself should remain to drive him.

The ass was a large, strong animal; he wore no saddle, so that the new landed proprietor was obliged to ride bareback, and in default of stirrups, to cling to the mane, confining his mount to a foot pace. But he sat proudly erect on the beast, requesting the boy not to make him go too fast, and Alfred declared that Robineau could not find a nobler animal on which to make his entry into the château.

"I certainly shall not ride into the courtyard on the ass," said Robineau, "but I am very glad to use him until we arrive there. You have kept me walking since yesterday noon, messieurs.--Don’t urge the ass, my boy, let him go quietly, I am not in such a hurry now; there will be no harm done if your brother arrives some time before us."

Thereupon the little peasant fell back and left Robineau to guide the ass as he chose. Alfred and Edouard could not help smiling whenever they glanced at the cavalier, who called to them from time to time:

"We are drawing near my château, messieurs; I feel it in the beating of my heart."

"I smell[8] nothing but an odor of barnyard," said Alfred.

"Oh! that comes from Monsieur Cheval’s--he keeps cows and oxen," said the boy.

"Who is this Monsieur Cheval, little one?"

"He’s the horse-doctor and farrier of these parts; he doctors animals."

"The deuce! he must be one of the authorities of the neighborhood!"

"Messieurs! messieurs! I believe I see it!" cried Robineau, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his eyes.

"What--Monsieur Cheval?"

"My château! my estate! See--on that hill yonder.--Is that my château, boy?"

"Yes, monsieur, yes, that’s La Roche-Noire."

"Ah! what rapture, messieurs! Do you see a tower--I mean towers, ramparts, and--Stop the ass a minute, boy.--Wait, my friends--my joy, my emotion are--I believe I am going to fall."

They gathered around Robineau, who was almost fainting. At last he loosened his cravat, took a pinch of snuff, and returned to himself, only to turn his eyes once more upon his property, crying:

"Ah! messieurs, it makes me ill, but it makes me very happy!--Dieu! how large it looks! how beautiful! what a noble structure!"

"It looks to me like an old ruin," said Alfred.

"It reminds me of Anne Radcliffe’s novels," said Edouard.

"Oh! messieurs, how far it extends! What a superb building! and windows! Heavens! what a lot of windows! It’s like the Château of Chambord!"

"So far as I can see, there is no glass in all those windows."

"Perhaps it wasn’t the custom to have glass in old times, my friend. Besides, I was told that there were some small repairs to be made.--But let us push on, messieurs, let us push on, I cannot contain myself; it seems to me that my château is holding out its arms to me.--Above all things, no more Robineau here, I entreat you; I shall not answer to that name again. Come, my boy; urge your donkey a bit, so that we may arrive sooner at yonder beautiful greensward."

The boy switched the beast, which, realizing that it was nearing home, asked nothing better than to fall into a trot. Robineau, a little surprised at first by that rapid pace, allowed the ass to trot on, for the pleasure due to the fact that he was approaching his château gave him courage to retain his seat.

They drew near the lawn in front of the château, and saw on the right and left a number of cottages of rather attractive appearance. Soon they were near enough to La Roche-Noire to distinguish a number of persons who seemed to be on the lookout in front of the château. They were François and all the people whom he, having been notified by the little peasant, had found disposed to leave their work in order to witness the new proprietor’s arrival. The number was not large: there were three peasants and five peasant women, together with Monsieur Cheval, the veterinary, who hoped to obtain the custom of the château, and Monsieur Férulus, who kept a small school in the neighborhood, and who also counted upon being tutor to the newcomer’s family. But in addition to these ten persons, there were a score or so of children, the majority very small, whom François easily collected, because children are never scarce in the country districts; and in order to make them useful, the valet had given to each of them a cowherd’s horn, the only instrument they were capable of playing. François wished the peasants to fire muskets in honor of his master’s arrival; but they had been unable to find any that were in condition to be fired, either in the château or anywhere in the neighborhood. In default of firearms the Auvergnats had armed themselves with their bagpipes; Monsieur Cheval had taken his drum from its hook--he was a very skilful performer on the drum, and played at all the fêtes and merrymakings in the neighborhood; and Monsieur Férulus, who played upon no instrument, but sang as if he had been dismissed from the Opéra, had composed a chorus, which he would be obliged to sing by himself, as the five peasant women refused to join in this.

François had stationed the concierge and the gardener at the windows of their respective lodges, looking on the road, to watch; they were to notify him as soon as they saw anyone, when he would give the signal to his party. At last the concierge, who was usually half seas over, and who had been considerably more than that since the preceding night, in order to receive his new master more becomingly--the concierge exclaimed with an ominous hiccough:

"Here comes some one! Here comes a donkey first of all!"

"It’s monseigneur!" said François; "now, my friends, all together, and make as much noise as you can!"

Instantly the air was filled with the noise of bagpipes, horns, drums and voices,--François, the concierge and the gardener adding to the uproar with a prolonged _Vive monseigneur!_ The ass that bore the person thus noisily welcomed continued at a fast trot across the greensward, for it saw at the left the entrance to its stable, beside a small cottage, where a cow and divers geese seemed also to be awaiting the new lord of the manor. But the infernal uproar which suddenly rent the air caused the donkey, which was not fond of music, to prick up its ears; it broke into a gallop in order to reach its quarters more quickly. Robineau tried to hold it back, but he had too much to do to hold himself in his seat. In vain did he call out to the peasants, to François, to stop the ass; the strains of the instruments drowned his voice. The ass shot through the midst of the villagers like an arrow, as they stood respectfully aside and saluted the new proprietor, who entered upon his domain at a gallop, clinging to the tail and mane of his mount. But the ass, instead of going to the château, made for its own quarters, and did not stop till it reached the stable, where it immediately rolled on the floor with its rider. Monseigneur shrieked for help, while the ass brayed lustily, in order to have its share in the concert that was being given on the lawn.

Meanwhile, François and some of the peasants, surprised that monseigneur preferred to dismount in the stable of one of his vassals instead of in the courtyard of his château, went thither after him, and not without much difficulty did they succeed in extricating Monsieur de la Roche-Noire from beneath the ass. At last Robineau stood erect once more; he had fallen into the mire, which was in his hair and over one eye, and with which one side of his coat was besmeared. But his pleasure in having arrived and in hearing the tumult that was being made in his honor prevented him from observing the disarray of his costume. He strode proudly forth from the stable, and bent his steps, limping slightly, toward the peasants; he bowed to right and left and was intoxicated for some moments by the loud strains of the cowherds’ horns; he considered that Monsieur Cheval beat the drum as well as the wild Indian at the Palais-Royal, and that the peasant women had voices as good as choristers’.

But Monsieur Férulus stepped forward to meet him; he made a gesture with his left arm, whereupon François immediately made another with his right, and everybody was quiet. Thereupon Monsieur Férulus, having saluted as if he were about to dance a minuet, passed his tongue over his lips and addressed Robineau thus:

"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire:--_Albo dies notanda lapillo!_--The Romans marked with white and black stones their happy and unhappy days; we shall make a cross for this day which brings you among us. Long has this domain been deserted. You will be the sun, which is more than perfect (_pluperfect_), you will be the _future_, which is _indefinite_, and these peasants will enjoy a happiness which will not be _conditional_."

Alfred and Edouard, who were behind the recipient of this complimentary address, bit their lips to avoid laughing in Monsieur Férulus’s face, and moved away from the new landholder, whose garments did not exhale a pleasant odor. But Monsieur Férulus took snuff and continued his harangue:

"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, _vitam impendere vero_; I have never declined compliments or flatteries; but it is very pleasant to me to be the first to salute the new owner of this château. May you be able to say of this castle: _Inveni portum!_ or, if you prefer, to settle in Auvergne! If I am to credit public report, which has spoken to me through the medium of your valet de chambre, you combine in a single person the wisdom of Socrates, the justice of Aristides, the grandeur of Themistocles and the eloquence of Cicero; may you add to these the good fortune of Polycrates, the wealth of Crœsus, and the length of days of Methuselah!"

Monsieur Férulus ceased to speak, wiped his forehead and took more snuff. Robineau, who had listened with keen delight to his harangue, bowed low and replied:

"Certainly, monsieur! I beg your pardon--your name, if you please?"

"Férulus."

"Well, Monsieur Férulus, I am deeply touched. For my own part, I propose to live as long as possible.--But come whenever you choose, to eat a plate of soup at the château; even to-day."

"With great pleasure, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire," said Férulus, eagerly. He had never been known to refuse an invitation to dinner.

And Robineau returned to his friends, saying:

"That’s a very learned man! deuce take it! he knows a lot!"

François, when he saw that Monsieur Férulus had finished his speech, ordered the music to strike up anew. Monsieur Cheval, who was no speaker, but who was equally anxious to secure the newcomer’s patronage, left his drum for a moment and went to his house, whence he soon returned leading a little horse, which he presented to Robineau, saying:

"Here, monsieur, is a stout nag, that won’t throw you down like Nicolas’s donkey; get on his back; he was newly shod this morning."

Robineau would have liked quite as well to make his entry on foot, but he dared not refuse Monsieur Cheval’s offer, so he climbed to the nag’s back, on condition that he should be allowed to go at a walk. They proceeded toward the château, around which could still be seen some vestiges of the ancient moats, wherein children were playing and tumbling about. At the right hand and the left were two towers which were in imminent danger of falling; but the buildings in the centre seemed to be in better condition. A large courtyard, where weeds were growing unchecked, preceded the buildings and was entered through a broad gateway with a small lodge on each side, occupied by the concierge and the gardener. Those worthies had remained at their windows awaiting their master’s entrance to carry out a little surprise which François had devised.

At last the proprietor arrived; they heard the hullabaloo caused by the shouts, the cowherds’ horns, the drum and the bagpipes; the children came first, then the peasants. The procession was swelled by Alfred and Edouard, laughing till the tears came; and Monsieur Férulus walked solemnly beside the horse. At the moment that they entered the courtyard of the château, the gardener hurled the wreath of flowers which he had prepared for his master; but instead of falling upon Robineau, it landed on the ears of his steed, who was thus crowned with flowers. At the same moment, the concierge leaned from the window to present the keys of the château, which he had placed in a salad-bowl, in default of a salver. He held this out with one hand, while with the other he raised a glass of wine, crying:

"_Vive monseigneur! vive not’ bourgeois!_"

The bourgeois did not inquire what there might be in the salad-bowl that was offered him. But, as he was rather inquisitive, he said to the concierge:

"Give it to me, my friend."

The concierge, who was drunk, thinking that his master wished to drink, held out the glass and spilled on his head a large part of its contents, while Monsieur Férulus exclaimed:

"O thrice happy day! I fancy that I am present at the ceremonies of the Corybantes! I seem to enter the Temple of Cybele! Music, flowers, libations--everything is here!"

"Yes, everything, absolutely," said Robineau, wiping his face; but, as he was not anxious to receive any further libations, he urged his begarlanded nag, and covered with wine and cow-dung, entered La Roche-Noire amid the cries and plaudits of all the little brats in the neighborhood.

Robineau dismounted, and as he still had some difficulty in walking, as a result of the fall under the donkey, he did not feel in condition to inspect his domain at once. After tossing with noble indifference a handful of small coins to the children, who grovelled in the dirt to scramble for them, which, according to Monsieur Férulus, recalled the tournaments of old, Robineau bade the concierge provide the whole company with refreshments; then, having saluted them all, he followed François to his bedroom, where he threw himself, tired out, on his bed, crying:

"Dieu! how pleasant it is to be a seigneur! to be harangued--ow!--and complimented!--Ah! my ribs! It’s a little fatiguing, but I shall get used to it.--François, while I take a little rest, cause a magnificent repast to be prepared, and inform the peasants that there will be a ball at the château this evening. I have been too well received not to show my gratitude."

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

The White House (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XII)Chapter X: Robineau’s Entry Into His Domain

0%14 min left in chapter