"Are you looking at my garden?"

"Yes; it's extremely well kept."

"Oh! it'll be much prettier when the orange trees are put out; but it's too early yet."

"Aren't you afraid for the pomegranates and laurels?"

"Oh, no! we shan't have any more hard frosts, and they ain't so delicate."

"You have some very fine espaliers."

"Well! that's because they're well looked out for; but they have to be.

Trees, you see, are just exactly like people; if we didn't give 'em a bit of a touch-up now and then, what would we look like?"

They left the garden, crossed one broad street, then another bordered by garden walls.

"Ch.e.l.les is a large place!" said Honorine.

"Oh, yes; it ain't so small! Bless me! this used to be a famous country; it used to have a name of its own. Oh! you ought to hear Monsieur Antoine Beaubichon, the doctor here, talk about it; he's a scholar and knows a lot--to say nothing of a brother of his in Paris, who's very famous too for his knowledge of business and teaches you how to manage books."

"I know the history of this village," said Honorine with a smile; "I know that the Abbey of Ch.e.l.les was very famous; that under the first race of French kings religious establishments were founded here. King Chilperic often resided here, and was a.s.sa.s.sinated here."

"I say! I say! madame knows as much as our doctor!" exclaimed Pere Ledrux, opening his eyes.

"One need only read history to learn that."

"But I am very ignorant, my dear friend; do tell me how King Chilperic was a.s.sa.s.sinated here."

"It's a very old story, my dear Agathe; it happened in the year 584, and between ourselves, all the narratives that we have of those days are somewhat apocryphal. But this is the way the story runs:

"A mayor of the palace--there were prime ministers then, called mayors of the palace; this one, whose name was Landry, was, if history is to be believed, the lover of Queen Fredegonde. Now the king, happening one day to enter his consort's chamber when he was not expected, found her leaning over and washing her head; he amused himself by striking her from behind with his staff. A strange amus.e.m.e.nt for a king! but in those days there was very little refinement.

"The queen, not seeing who it was who had entered the room, thought that none but her favorite would venture to use such freedom, so she said: 'Why do you strike me, Landry?'

"But, on turning her head, she saw the king, her spouse, instead of her lover; she was stupefied with terror. As for Chilperic, he went off hunting, without a word.

"When the king had gone, Fredegonde sent for the mayor of the palace and told him everything that had happened. As they both feared torture and the death they had merited by their treacherous conduct, they resolved to kill King Chilperic. He did not return from the hunt until nightfall, and when he arrived at Ch.e.l.les and was dismounting from his horse, cutthroats in Fredegonde's pay stabbed him again and again with knives; he died on the spot.

"The queen, after causing the report to be spread abroad that the crime was instigated by King Childebert, had the courage to attend the obsequies of her deceased husband, which she caused to be celebrated with great pomp at Paris.

"That, my dear Agathe, is what history tells us; it is not a moral tale, far from it! and unhappily that sort of thing was too common in those days, which cannot have been the 'good old days' that so many poets have extolled. I will not tell you anything more about Ch.e.l.les, for in truth it would be even less edifying than what I have just told you."

"My faith!" exclaimed Pere Ledrux, who had refrained from humming while the young woman was speaking; "you do know a lot, all the same; and you tell it plainer than the doctor, because he uses such long words--words I don't know; so that he always has to tell us a story seven or eight times to make me understand it."

"But the house--we don't seem to get to it?"

"Here we are, madame. Look, when we pa.s.s this wall which makes an elbow.

There! do you see that building with green blinds? that's Monsieur Courtivaux's house."

"Oh! my dear friend, just look! how lovely it is! There's a railing in front, and vases of flowers on the pilasters; it's all very fine!"

Madame Dalmont smiled at her young companion's enthusiasm, but the aspect of the house pleased her greatly as well, and the nearer they approached, the better pleased they were.

There was an iron fence in front, through which they could see a pretty lawn, which stretched in front of the house and formed a charming carpet of verdure.

"Oh! Honorine, see what lovely turf! Why, monsieur, how is it possible to have such green turf so early?"

"Pardi, mamzelle--for I see that you're the unmarried one--there's green turf here all winter, even under the snow. The folks in Paris don't believe it, but gra.s.s grows all the time, you see."

The peasant opened the gate; two paths skirted the lawn and led to the house; and on both sides were tall trees, whose branches extended over the gra.s.s, so that, in summer, their foliage protected it from the sun's heat.

Agathe walked beside Honorine, saying every instant in an undertone:

"Oh! how lovely it is! see those fine trees, and those lilac bushes, with great buds already, and those syringas! Oh! how lovely it must be in summer!"

"There's a dozen boxes that we put round the lawn," said the gardener, "six oranges and six pomegranates; but I carried 'em home because I take care of 'em; in another month I'll put 'em in place. Oh, my! then it looks nice; it's a pretty sight, I tell you."

The house consisted of two stories and attics. The ground floor was about three feet from the ground, so that one had to ascend a flight of steps to the front door. The peasant opened the door and they found themselves in a handsome hall in which there were four doors. One opened into a dainty salon, very comfortably furnished; couches filled a large portion of the s.p.a.ce; they and the chairs were covered with light blue material, and the wall paper was of the same shade.

Agathe uttered a cry of delight.

"A blue salon! my favorite color and yours too, Honorine; if they had asked us what we liked they could not have suited us better!"

"There's just a crumb of dust on the furniture," said the gardener, "but you understand--when a house ain't occupied, the dust collects in a jiffy! I come here every day myself to feed the hens and rabbits, but you can understand that I don't have time to clean the rooms."

"What! are there hens and rabbits here, too?"

"To be sure! Monsieur Courtivaux was very fond of rabbits; he used to have one killed every week to eat."

"That's a curious way of loving animals!" said Madame Dalmont; "for my part, I could never make up my mind to kill a poor creature that I had fondled."

"Oh! nor I to eat one!" said Agathe.

"And then I am not wild for rabbit as food; and so, Monsieur Ledrux, if I buy the house, I will begin by making you a present of all there are here."

The peasant seemed greatly pleased by that promise; he put his hand to a little round hat which had lost both its color and its brim, and which did duty as a cap, and murmured:

"Madame is very good; I won't refuse 'em. Bless me! there's two females that breed; but still, if you don't like rabbit, I can understand your getting rid of 'em. They smell bad in the first place, and they ruin everything if you're unlucky enough to let 'em get into the garden. My word! what a wreck!--And what about the hens? if madame don't like them any better, I could take care of them too; they ain't very clean, the little devils; they go pecking round everywhere."

"Oh! hens are very different," said Honorine; "they give one fresh eggs, which are always very pleasant."

"Besides, it must be such fun to hunt for the eggs--to see if there are many of them. I'll take care of the hens, my dear friend. And then, they don't kill those poor creatures."

"Oh! yes they do; there's folks who fix 'em up with rice or little onions; and they're good too. And then you sometimes have some that won't lay or that fight with the others; them you don't keep--you eat 'em!"

"Ah! Monsieur Ledrux, you are very pitiless to everything that can be eaten! However, we will see, and when one of our hens maltreats her companions, why, you shall carry her off, that's all; but I don't propose to have any inhabitant of my poultry yard killed on my premises."

"All right; if that's your idea, never fear, I'll carry off the poor layers; madame can do as she pleases. Well, well! here I am saying 'madame' and 'mademoiselle'; but it seems to me that you can't be mother and daughter; one of you's too young, and the other too old."