The White House Part 33

Isaure looked up at Edouard and seemed to thank him with a smile; while Robineau shook his head and stuffed himself with bread and b.u.t.ter.

"But," said Alfred, "you live near a place against which all of Vaillant's vigilance would be of no avail, a.s.suming the reports that are current hereabout to be true."

"Ah! do you mean the house across the way?" said Isaure smiling, "where the people of the mountains declare that there are ghosts?"

"Exactly.--So you are not afraid of these ghosts?"

"Oh! no, monsieur! I know very well that it's all nonsense. In my dear mother's time, the mountaineers used to tell us sometimes that we ought to go away from this dangerous valley. But that only made us laugh. We knew that there was no danger here; for nothing ever happened to us."

"And don't you ever see lights in the White House at night," asked Robineau, "or hear noises? Don't you ever see the black ghost?"

A mischievous smile played about the girl's lips as she replied:

"I have never seen anything out of the common course, monsieur."

"Faith," said Alfred, "we tried to find out whether the house was really unoccupied; and before coming here we went there and knocked, to the great scandal of the mountaineer who acted as our guide."

"You knocked at the White House?" said Isaure hastily; "did anyone answer?"

"No, of course not, as there's no one there."

The girl seemed more or less excited; but she recovered herself and said:

"To be sure; it was of no use to knock."

Edouard looked closely at Isaure and tried to read her eyes; but Robineau sprang to his feet and cried:

"I think you must have eaten enough, messieurs, and it's time for us to be going on."

Alfred and Edouard rose regretfully; they realized that it would not be well to prolong their visit then. Alfred drew his purse and was about to take out a piece of money, when the girl stayed his hand, saying:

"You owe me nothing, messieurs; my adopted parents never took pay from strangers who stopped at their house, and I should consider that I failed in respect to their memory if I did not do in everything as they did."

"Well, I must obey you, my lovely child," said Alfred; "but I expect to stay in this neighborhood for some time, and I warn you that I shall come again to ask you for some breakfast."

"Whenever you please, monsieur," said Isaure, with a little curtsy, while the young man tried to take her hand. But she hastily drew it back, with a smile to the three travellers.

Robineau had already left the cottage, and Edouard waited for Alfred to go before taking his leave. He said nothing to Isaure, but he gazed long at her, and his eyes found it difficult to leave her.

X

ROBINEAU'S ENTRY INTO HIS DOMAIN

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 manuvres; 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 chateau."

"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 pa.s.sed 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 chateau."

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 a.s.s.

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

"Home, monsieur."

"Where do you live?"

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

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

"Your va.s.sals are slightly soiled," observed Alfred.