At nightfall, the young man left his friend, who accompanied him sadly to his horse, and whose eyes said:

"Until to-morrow!"

A week pa.s.sed away. Every morning at daybreak Frederic left Gren.o.ble, and rode to Vizille on the first horse he found in the inn stable. He pa.s.sed the whole day with Sister Anne, and left her at nightfall.

When he was away from the dumb girl, Frederic barely existed, and Sister Anne was no longer happy except when she was with him. Love had taken possession of her heart, without any resistance from her; it had made its appearance embellished by so many charms! why should she repel that sentiment which made her happy? Frederic possessed every element of seduction; he kept telling her that he loved her and would love her all his life; she did not for one moment doubt his oaths; she did not know what inconstancy was. Why should he lie to her? She abandoned herself to the joy of loving. Her mouth could utter no loving words, but her eyes told him all that was taking place in her heart, and a single one of her glances was equal to the most loving protestations.

Frederic tried to teach her to write, but love constantly interfered with the lessons he gave her. Seated by her side, pressing her to his heart, with full liberty to gaze at leisure on her lovely features, her intoxicating eyes--he stopped, and forgot what he was about to show her.

She looked at him and smiled, and the lesson was forgotten. Frederic strained her to his heart, his pa.s.sions were aroused--but one is timid with innocence, especially when one loves sincerely.

But the most timid pa.s.sion grows bold in time; the habit of seeing each other, of being together, of displaying their mutual affection, drew them closer together every day. They were always alone in the forest, and the forest is a very dangerous place for innocence. Could they long resist their hearts, the flame that consumed them? Frederic became daring, and Sister Anne gave herself to him without regret, without remorse, for it seemed natural to her to make the man happy whom she was sure that she should love all her life.

In the transports of pa.s.sion, Frederic determined not to leave his sweetheart in order to go to Gren.o.ble to sleep. The eight leagues, going and coming, kept them apart a few moments longer, and compelled him to leave her a few moments earlier.

"No," he said, "I do not propose to go away from you any more, not for an hour, not for a minute. When I cannot see you, why, I will sleep in the woods, on the gra.s.s, near your cabin. As if I could be uncomfortable there!"

The lovely girl threw her arms about her lover's neck, kissed him, did a thousand foolish things; her every gesture was eloquent of her happiness. He would not leave her any more; therefore she would be happy every minute. The poor child believed that it was possible. Suddenly, as if struck by a new idea, she led Frederic to the cabin and pointed to a window; it was in the room where old Marguerite slept, and close beside it was another window, in the dumb girl's room; she led Frederic there, laid her head on the back of her hand, drew him to her, and gazed pa.s.sionately into his face. The young man understood her; he pressed her to his heart, and cried:

"Yes, I will sleep with you, always by your side! Ah! how happy we shall be!"

Thus did the child of nature soon discover what would forward her love; for to love ardently requires neither art nor study; the heart is the best master. Several times, Sister Anne manifested a wish to present Frederic to her adopted mother; she could not understand why he avoided her, until he said:

"Marguerite would not leave you so entirely at liberty, if she knew that you saw me every day; on the contrary, she would tell you that you must avoid me and not speak to me."

These words were enough to prevent Anne from returning to the subject.

Forbid her to see Frederic! order her to avoid him! why, that would be condemning her to weep all her life. She felt that she would not have the strength to obey; so it was much better to conceal her happiness from Marguerite. The good old woman was growing weaker every day; she rarely left her chair, where she dozed a great part of the time; so that it was very easy to conceal the truth from her.

The night succeeded that day on which Frederic had won the sweetest of all triumphs and had known the intoxication of a genuine pa.s.sion. But the approach of darkness did not drive him forth from the woods; on the contrary, it was to increase his happiness tenfold.

He did not give a thought to his companions, to their anxiety about him, or to their embarra.s.sing position since he had all the money; he did not remember that he had a horse belonging to the inn; he had no thought for anything on earth but Sister Anne. Not even the memory of his father interfered to mar his happiness. The present was all in all to him; Sister Anne engrossed his heart and mind; he had never known a woman who could be compared with her. Could he find elsewhere in the world so much beauty, grace, innocence, and love? Her misfortune made her even dearer to him. Frederic was very romantic, and he did not look upon love so lightly as most young men of his years; so that his conduct should appear less extraordinary to us. And then, too, the dumb girl was so pretty! In the first transports of love, a cabin, a forest, a desert, is what all lovers desire; but this intoxication is of short duration. Will Frederic be more constant?

In the path by the stream, where they sat together so often, he waited until old Marguerite should fall asleep. Then Sister Anne was to steal out of the cabin and come for her lover.

Frederic tied his horse to an old ruined hovel, where a woodcutter had once lived, and which he used as a stable.

The moon was shining brightly; it was reflected in the limpid water of the brook and made the spa.r.s.e clearings in the wood as light as day.

Frederic listened intently for his sweetheart's footstep! The time seemed very long; every minute robbed love of a sigh. He tried to look beneath the black firs and distinguish the cabin. At last he heard a faint sound: it was she. He could not see her, but his heart told him that she was near. As light of foot as a fawn, as swift as the hunter's arrow, as beautiful as happiness, the dumb girl sped through the paths of that forest, whose every corner she knew. In an instant, she was beside her lover, who kissed her on the forehead and could not forbear to gaze long and lovingly at her. He was proud of his good fortune; the time and place, the joy that shone on her features, the mystery that surrounded them--all seemed to make Sister Anne lovelier than ever. Her hair, carelessly caught up so that a part of it played about her neck; her shapely figure, which a light gown veiled without concealing; and her eyes, so sweet and so overflowing with love, renewed Frederic's transports.

"Come, come," he said; "lead me!"

The girl took his arm and led him through the dense woods. They soon reached and entered the humble cabin, which had become in his eyes the most delicious retreat. He shared Sister Anne's bed; how could he envy those who sleep in palaces? Happy lovers! let us leave them to enjoy their happiness.

XIII

DUBOURG PLAYS THE GRAND SEIGNEUR ONCE MORE.--NEW ACQUAINTANCES

On the day following Frederic's first absence, Monsieur Menard, having risen early, burst into Dubourg's chamber, crying with a triumphant air:

"I have found it, monsieur le baron; I am certain that I have found it."

"Found what?" said Dubourg, who was just awake; "your receipt for keeping eggs fresh?"

"No; but what it was that charmed monsieur le comte so yesterday; that wonderful place where he pa.s.sed the day."

"Bah! you say you know where he was?"

"Yes! I would stake my head on it!"

"Tell me, then."

"It was the Chateau de Bayard, which must be in this neighborhood, in the valley of Gresivaudan."

"The Chateau de Bayard? Faith! it's quite possible; however, we'll ask him at breakfast."

But Frederic did not appear at breakfast. Dubourg summoned one of the servants.

"Has our companion gone away already?"

"Yes, monsieur, at daybreak; he took the first horse that was ready, and went off at a gallop."

"Gone again! and left us here, perhaps for the whole day!"

"I am convinced that it's the Chateau de Bayard that has turned his head."

"Hum! I'm very much afraid myself that it's some more modern marvel.

However, as we have nothing better to do, let's go and see the ruins of this chateau, and we can look for Frederic there; what do you say, Monsieur Menard?"

"I agree with you perfectly, monsieur le baron; but perhaps we shall do well to carry a pate or a chicken, for we probably shall not be able to get a dinner at the chateau."

"You speak like the grammar, Monsieur Menard; we will provide ourselves with supplies; it may not be very chivalrous, but it is prudent.

Besides, we are travelling as amateur troubadours simply; and, however beautiful a view may be, however imposing a ruin, we belong to that cla.s.s of small-minded mortals who must dine every day. Ah! Monsieur Menard, we are not romantic! It was very lucky for us that we were not born in the days of Amadis and the four sons of Aymon."

"Faith! that is true, monsieur le baron; for they didn't know how to truffle a chicken in those days, or cook _filets de sole au gratin_."

Dubourg inquired the way to the valley of Gresivaudan, Monsieur Menard filled his pockets with provisions, and our travellers set forth. They were told that it was a short three leagues to the Chateau de Bayard; but Menard suggested a halt every half-hour. The baron invariably complied, and produced a bottle of the best wine he had been able to find at their inn; Menard spread his provisions on the turf, on a large sheet of paper, and the travellers renewed their strength. When Dubourg caught sight of some tempting fruit, he would climb the tree to obtain some for dessert; and finally he cut a number of branches and, by spreading his handkerchief over them, constructed a little tent, so that they could dine in the shade.

"One would hardly suspect that the man who does this is a n.o.ble palatine!" cried Menard.

"Why not, pray?" rejoined Dubourg; "the Princess Nausicaa made her own lye; Augustus's daughters spun their father's robes; Dionysius the Younger was a school teacher at Corinth; the son of Perseus, King of Macedonia, was a carpenter at Rome, as Peter the Great was in Holland; so it doesn't seem to me that I derogate from my rank by making a tent in Dauphine."

Monsieur Menard, having nothing to reply, simply bowed, murmuring:

"_Variant sententiae._"

At last, our two travellers discovered the ruins of the Chateau de Bayard, of which only the four towers remain standing; but they did not find Frederic gazing in veneration upon them.