"Well, do you see him, Monsieur Menard?" said Dubourg.

"The chateau?"

"No; Frederic."

"Not yet, monsieur le baron; but let us sit down and rest; unluckily, I am afraid that this is the last halt that will refresh us much, as our provisions are near the end, and we have only a quarter of a bottle left."

"We shall find plenty of springs, Monsieur Menard."

"But they won't be like those of Cana in Galilee, monsieur le baron."

"Meanwhile, let's finish the bottle and this chicken. We are very well placed here to enjoy the landscape. This is a charming valley. See, Monsieur Menard, what a picturesque effect these mountains make on our right; they're covered with snow, and that reminds me of Mount Krapach.

See, the snow never melts up there."

"I see, monsieur le baron, that this is our last wing; and I shudder to think of the walk back."

"We'll go into some house--or a mill; there are plenty of those in this region."

"Do you mean that you have any money, monsieur le baron?"

"Not a sou; and you?"

"No more."

"The devil! this becomes embarra.s.sing. Think of Frederic carrying the cash-box off with him, and leaving us in the lurch, without stopping to think what will become of us! I am aware that we may live on at the inn, where we have an open account; but it isn't pleasant to be tied down to an inn while my gentleman is travelling about the country."

"One thing is certain, monsieur le baron, and that is that walking gives one an appet.i.te."

"Morbleu! I am beginning to find this travelling decidedly monotonous; and if I wasn't afraid of my creditors----"

"Your creditors, monsieur le baron?"

"I mean, if I hadn't the creditors of my government to settle with--that is to say, if---- But, hush! I see somebody--probably people who have come to inspect these ruins. They must live in the neighborhood, for they don't look as if they had taken a long walk."

Menard looked up and saw a man and woman at their left, walking slowly toward the chateau. The tutor hastily thrust the bottle and napkin into his pocket, then he rose and joined Dubourg, who was walking toward the new arrivals with a graceful swagger which reminded Menard of their promenades in the streets of Lyon.

"It seems that monsieur le baron proposes to lay aside his incognito again," he said to himself. Whereupon, he straightened the ends of his ruff and a.s.sumed a more dignified bearing.

Dubourg had replaced by a very simple round hat the shabby tile which had been left for him at the false Marquise de Versac's, but he had retained the little silver ta.s.sels on his boots; above all, he had retained the power to impart to his features an expression befitting the part he proposed to play. When he approached the couple examining the ruins, one would have judged from his manners, his voice, his language, and the way in which he looked about, that he was some foreign n.o.bleman.

The gentleman and lady whom Dubourg seemed disposed to join were dressed in a style that indicated comfortable circ.u.mstances, but which smelt of the province and of a decided tendency to ostentation. The gentleman, who seemed to be about fifty years old, wore his hair powdered, and carried his hat in his hand in order not to disarrange his carefully curled locks; he had a black coat and trousers, and boots with tops which fell below the calf; he carried a cane, with which he pointed out the various objects of interest to his companion; and one could read on his face extreme self-satisfaction and contentment, heightened by an important air which, doubtless, he felt in duty bound to maintain.

The lady on his arm was at least forty years old. She had evidently been comely in the past, but she made the mistake of trying to appear only twenty; for, despite her mincing manners, her infantile speech, the curls behind her ear, and those that peeped out from beneath her hat, and a manner which she strove to render giddy and kittenish, one could readily see that she had pa.s.sed her majority.

Dubourg walked toward the chateau, apparently without noticing the strangers further than to bow to them; he made a pretence of continuing his conversation with Menard, speaking so loudly that he could be heard at some distance.

"This chateau reminds me of my grandfather's in the neighborhood of Sandomir. You know, my dear Menard, the one where we endured such a long and b.l.o.o.d.y siege?"

Menard opened his eyes as he met Dubourg's, but he instantly replied:

"Yes, monsieur le baron, I know."

"That tower yonder," continued Dubourg, "is very like the one on the western side of my castle of Krapach. I can imagine that I am still in the room where the Prince of Bulgaria slept, when he came to break bread with my father. Ah! my dear Menard, I hope soon to give you some of that famous tokay I have told you of."

"Tekely's tokay, monsieur le baron?"

"The same; it has been a hundred and twenty-four years in bottle!"

The gentleman and lady heard every word spoken by Dubourg, who kept on toward the chateau, pretending to examine it, but taking care not to go too far away from them.

While Dubourg was speaking, the gentleman listened intently; his face soon a.s.sumed an expression of respectful consideration; he nudged his wife,--for his companion was his wife,--and, pointing to Dubourg, motioned to her to walk a little faster to overtake the ill.u.s.trious foreigner.

At the foot of one of the towers, they found themselves in close proximity to our two travellers, who were just about to enter the ruins.

Dubourg stopped, to allow the lady to go first; her husband paid him the same attention, and even bowed low to Menard. These ceremonies duly performed, they entered into conversation.

"Does monsieur visit our country as an observer?" the husband asked Dubourg.

"Yes, monsieur; I am travelling--for my pleasure--with a friend of mine, the Comte de Montreville, of whom you may have heard, and Monsieur Menard, a distinguished professor of literature and a h.e.l.lenist of the first order, who improvises poetry like an angel--especially at dessert."

The gentleman bowed to Menard, who looked like an idiot when Dubourg said that he improvised readily, but he was very careful not to contradict him, none the less.

"Do you live in this province, monsieur?" queried Dubourg.

"Yes, monsieur," the lady replied, with a gracious smile. "We live two leagues and a half from here, at Allevard, where my husband bought a superb estate when he retired from the wine trade."

At this point, the gentleman nudged his wife, but she continued, apparently without noticing the hint:

"A trade we carried on for our pleasure, for my husband has always had a very handsome fortune; but one must do something."

"What do you say, madame? For my own part, I have a great esteem for trade, especially the wine trade. Certainly Noah didn't plant the vine with the idea that we should eat nothing but dried grapes. Gideon, a Hebrew captain, threshed his own grain, Saul was a cowherd, David a shepherd, Cincinnatus ploughed his own fields, Pope Sixtus V kept pigs, and Urban IV was once a cobbler; so I can see nothing surprising in the fact that your husband once sold wine."

"Surely not, monsieur," said the husband, bowing low to Dubourg.--"He's a n.o.ble philosopher," he whispered to his wife.

"But since we retired," continued the lady, "we a.s.sociate with only the best people in the province: the mayor and his clerk, and landowners who are electors--aristocratic people. We lead a delightful life; my husband is almost the lord of the district."

"I certainly am looked upon in that light," added the husband, leaning on his cane. "It was in my power to be sub-prefect; but I should have had to move, and I am attached to my present home. We are so highly considered there! I entertain all the best people at dinner; we cultivate music and the arts--I am learning the violin just now; I have had a cabinet organ sent from Paris. My wife will play it; she has a fine ear."

"Pardieu!" said Dubourg; "talking of ear, Monsieur Menard here has one of the finest ba.s.sos I know? As for myself, I play all instruments."

"Ah! monsieur," said the lady, with a smirk, "what a pleasure it would be to hear you! We have lots of amateur musicians at Allevard: monsieur le maire plays the ba.s.s-viol, and one of our neighbors is very strong on the hunting-horn. If monsieur should remain any length of time in this vicinity, we should be charmed to entertain him."

This invitation was accompanied by a very tender smile; Dubourg replied with an expressive glance, and the husband, well pleased, meekly lowered his eyes, while Menard looked at his companion to find out what he was to say.

"Faith! madame," rejoined Dubourg, after their exchange of glances had lasted for some minutes, during which the husband contemplated the swallows, "it may be that my friends and I will remain some time at Gren.o.ble. Monsieur le Comte de Montreville has a very p.r.o.nounced liking for the banks of the Isere, and I am too fond of him to go away without him. We are like Orestes and Pylades, except that we are never seen together; and although we are expected at the court of Sardinia, and I have promised to pa.s.s the winter at the court of Bulgaria, it is possible, as I say, that our sojourn in this province may be prolonged for some time;--isn't that so, Monsieur Menard?"

"I think as you do, monsieur le baron," said Menard; whereupon the lady whispered to her husband:

"How affable he is for a baron!"