"Oh! monsieur, I didn't say that I saw a pluperfect! I said I saw a light."

"How unfortunate it is to have to deal with ignoramuses!" said Monsieur Ferulus to himself.--"And you, Vincent, are you perfectly certain that there was a man in the garden?"

"Certain; that is to say, a man or a woman, I can't be sure about the s.e.x. But it was someone, for it walked and ran in front of me."

"Perhaps it was a rabbit?"

"Nonsense! A rabbit with nails in its shoes!"

"All this seems to me decidedly peculiar," said Ferulus.

"There you see that it is peculiar," cried Jeannette, "and that we ought to be afraid."

"I don't say that. Things which seem to us marvelous at a distance are often perfectly natural when examined at close quarters. Indeed, there are some which lose a good deal by being looked at too closely. But before p.r.o.nouncing definitely upon this, I would like to a.s.sure myself with my own eyes of the truth, for _pluris est oculatus unus quam auriti decem_!"

"You see!" said Cunette, "that means that it's all nonsense, and that you dreamed it all."

"No, it doesn't mean that, at all!" continued Ferulus. "My dear Cunette, you do not translate literally. I think, _primo_, that there is something or nothing. That is my principle, and I start from that, because one should start from a principle."

"Well! I say that there ain't anything," said Mademoiselle Cheval, "and that they was frightened by their own _shades_!"

"Why!" said Jeannette, "monsieur is a scholar, you must know--for he has shown me a whole heap of things already, me----"

"That's all right, Jeannette! that is between ourselves," said Ferulus, nudging the stout girl's arm; "but don't branch off from the question."

"Well, monsieur," replied Jeannette, "tell us once for all whether there is any ghosts or isn't."

"Yes, that's it," said the other servants; "then at least we shall know what to think."

"My children," said Ferulus, after blowing his nose at great length, "the question that you put to me is a th.o.r.n.y one. Hippocrates says yes and Galen says no!"

"But we don't ask you for Monsieur Pocrates's opinion," said Mademoiselle Cheval, "for it's yours that we want."

"My dear _coqua_, otherwise called cook, do not interrupt me, if you please. You wish to know whether there are or have been ghosts, or if we ought still to believe in them; that is the problem propounded; I start from that. I embark my reply upon the vessel of my lips, to cross the stormy sea of your attention, and to reach at last the blessed haven of your ears!"

"Look here, monsieur, if you are going to talk a foreign language, we shall never understand you!" said Jeannette.

"That is true, Jeannette; I yielded to the torrent of my eloquence, and forgot that I should come down to your level. I am there now. Ought we to believe in ghosts? Saint Augustine declares that it is rash to deny the intimate connection between devils and women; but Montaigne says that we should give magicians h.e.l.lebore and not hemlock. For my part, I do not believe in supernatural things; in fact, I never have. However, I am not a Pyrrhonist; I am not one of those people who doubt everything!

According to them, Xerxes did not enter Greece with five million men, and did not chastise the sea; a wolf was not the nurse of Romulus and Remus; Mutius Scaevola did not proudly extend his arm over a red-hot fire; they do not believe in the phantom which twice appeared to the second Brutus, or in the labarum seen in the air by Constantine the Great. I know very well that all those things were very much out of the common course; but since they are in history, why, then, as Virgil says, _felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas_!--That, my children, is my opinion concerning ghosts; I advise you to govern yourselves by it.

However, I do not see that it is worth while as yet to worry monseigneur about it."

With that, Monsieur Ferulus walked away to present his poetry to Robineau; and the servants, who had not understood a word of his harangue, separated, each retaining his own opinion.

Edouard soon left his room. He would long before have left the chateau had he not deemed it his duty to wait for Alfred, in order to go to Isaure with him. He hoped in that way to prove to him that he did not seek to influence the girl's feelings, and that it was her heart alone which guided her. In short, although overjoyed by the preference accorded to him, Edouard, who was warmly attached to Alfred, earnestly desired that his success in love should not cause him to lose his friend.

The time pa.s.sed; Edouard, who was burning with impatience to see Isaure again, was surprised at Alfred's tardiness. He appeared at last; but when he saw Edouard, his brow darkened and an expression of vexation appeared upon his face.

"I was waiting for you!" said Edouard, going to meet Alfred, whose hand he tried to take; but Alfred at once drew his hand away, replying coldly:

"Why are you waiting for me?"

"In order to go with you--to go with you to see Isaure."

"With me!" exclaimed Alfred satirically; "it seems to me that hereafter that is not worth while, and that each of us is at liberty to do what he pleases. Go, let nothing detain you. I, too, shall go alone to the valley."

"You are still angry with me, Alfred!" said Edouard in a sorrowful tone.

"Oh, no! I should be very wrong to be angry, no doubt; you are so frank in your conduct! And when do you propose to marry Isaure?"

Edouard made no reply; he seemed embarra.s.sed.

"Well! you do not answer," continued Alfred ironically; "when a man is so much in love, and is certain that he is loved in return, I do not see why he should postpone his happiness; you are both free; there is nothing to interfere with your contracting this bond. Is it your purpose to conceal your marriage? to make a mystery of it? you who have so much contempt for the prejudices of society!"

"No, monsieur; if I marry Isaure, I shall not make it a mystery; I shall not fear to call her my wife openly."

"If you marry her! Ah! it seems that you are not so decided to-day as you were yesterday. Really, Edouard, you must think me very credulous, or a great fool, to believe that I will place any faith in this stratagem of yours, which you resorted to only to separate me entirely from the girl! Yes, yes, she is very pretty, I agree; but you know as well as I that one is not bound to marry all the pretty women; and when it is a question of a simple peasant, whose head it is so easy to turn, I shall never believe----"

"So much the worse for you, monsieur, if you think that a man cannot settle down for life with her who combines everything which is likely to make one happy. I have told you frankly what my intentions are. I cannot compel you to believe me, but ere long I trust that you will be convinced that I have not deceived you."

With that Edouard walked away from Alfred, mounted his horse and rode away from the chateau alone.

Alfred stood for some moments lost in thought. He did not know what course to pursue. He considered Isaure fascinating; his self-esteem was piqued; it was most unpleasant to him to abandon so readily the hope of winning the little goatherd's heart. However, if he had been certain that Edouard really intended to make her his wife, he would have renounced at once his projects concerning the girl.

He decided to call upon Isaure also. He desired to a.s.sure himself with his own eyes of her preference for Edouard, and to know whether he had not deceived him. So he took the only remaining horse, and left the chateau a quarter of an hour after Edouard. This time he did not urge his steed, for he was reflecting upon the best method of ascertaining the truth. He would have liked to listen to his rival without being seen; and yet the thought of watching, of spying upon anyone, was too repugnant to his frank disposition for him to harbor it a moment.

He was only a short distance from Isaure's cottage, when someone, jumping out suddenly from behind a rock, caught his horse by the bridle, saying:

"You will arrive too late; another is ahead of you."

Alfred recognized the vagabond, who stood leaning upon his stick, with his gleaming eyes fastened upon the young man.

"Ah! it is you, is it?" said Alfred; "what do you mean?"

"That you started too late. Your rival is an earlier bird than you, and he makes the most of his time. Yesterday you did not come. But he did, and he went away very happy!"

These words were accompanied by a mocking smile. The stranger's features wore an even more malicious and evil expression than usual.

"How do you know all this?" demanded Alfred.

"How do I know it? Parbleu! it's not very difficult to know. Lovers always think themselves alone, and they do not trouble themselves to conceal their feelings. I had plenty of time to count their kisses!"

"Their kisses!" replied Alfred, trembling with anger.

"Why, yes! Does that surprise you? Oh! your friend doesn't go slow; with his little sugary way, he gets ahead! What surprises me is that you, who seem accustomed to the ways of the world, are not more advanced than he."

"But," replied Alfred, stifling a sigh, "since it is Edouard whom she prefers----"

"Whom she prefers! Nonsense! As if these little girls ever had a preference! They love everybody, everybody who makes love to them. She would have loved you, if you didn't always come last. However, whenever you choose, it will rest entirely with you to carry the day. Don't you know that with time and money one can accomplish everything?"