"P. S. Bridou is like me; he likes cheese that can walk alone. Tell Marguerite to provide it, and do you attend to it."
Madame Bastien had not recovered from the surprise and regret produced by the unexpected announcement of M. Bastien"s return, when she was drawn from her unhappy reflections by a tumultuous and constantly increasing excitement that she heard outside. One would have declared that an a.s.semblage had surrounded the house. Suddenly Marguerite entered, running, her eyes sparkling with joy, as she cried:
"Ah, madame! come,--come and see!"
Marie, more and more astonished, automatically followed the servant.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
The weather was clear, the winter sun radiant. Marie Bastien, as she went out on the rustic porch, built above the front door of the house, saw about one hundred persons, men, women, and children, almost all clothed in coa.r.s.e, but new and warm garments, filing in order, and ranging themselves behind the little garden.
This procession was ended by a cart ornamented with branches of fir, on which was placed what was called by the country people, a ferry-boat--a little flat boat, resembling the one Frederick and David so bravely used during the overflow.
Behind the cart, which stopped at the garden gate, came an empty open carriage, drawn by four horses, and mounted by two postilions in the livery of Pont Brillant; two footmen were seated behind.
At the head of the procession marched Jean Francois, the farmer, leading two of his little children by the hand; his wife held the smallest child in her arms.
At the sight of Madame Bastien, the farmer approached.
"Good day, Jean Francois," said the young woman to him, affectionately.
"What do these good people who accompany you want?"
"We wish to speak to M. Frederick, madame."
Marie turned to Marguerite, who, with a triumphant air, was standing behind her mistress, and said to her:
"Run and tell my son, Marguerite."
"It will not take long, madame; he is in the library with M. David."
While the servant went in quest of Frederick, Marie, who saw then for the first time the handsomely equipped carriage standing before the garden gate, wondered what could be its purpose.
Frederick hastened, not expecting the spectacle which awaited him.
"What do you want, mother?" said he, quickly.
Then, seeing the crowd which had gathered in the little garden, he stopped suddenly, with an interrogative look at his mother.
"My child--"
But the young woman, whose heart was beating with joy, could say no more; overcome by emotion, she had just discovered that the a.s.semblage was composed entirely of those unfortunate people whom she and her son and David had helped in the time of the overflow.
Then Marie said:
"My child, it is Jean Francois who wishes to speak to you,--there he is!"
And the happy mother withdrew behind her son, exchanging a glance of inexpressible delight with David, who had followed his pupil, and stood half hidden under the porch.
Frederick, whose astonishment continued to increase, made a step toward Jean Francois, who said to the young man, in a voice full of tears:
"M. Frederick, it is we poor valley people, who have come to thank you with a free heart, as well as your mother and your friend, M. David, who have been so kind. As I owe you the most," continued the farmer, with a voice more and more broken by tears, and pointing to his wife and children with an expressive gesture, "as I owe you the most, M.
Frederick, the others have told me--and--I--"
The poor man could say no more. Sobs stifled his voice.
Other sobs of tenderness from the excited crowd responded to the tears of Jean Francois, and broke the almost religious silence which reigned for several minutes.
Frederick"s heart was melted to tears of joy. He threw himself upon his mother"s neck, as if he wished to turn toward her these testimonials of grat.i.tude by which he was so profoundly touched.
At a sign from Jean Francois, who had dried his eyes and tried to regain his self-possession, several men of the a.s.semblage approached the cart, and, taking the ferry-boat, brought it in their arms and laid it before Frederick.
It was a simple and rustic little boat with two oars of unpolished wood, and on the inner railing were written in rude and uneven letters, cut into the framework, the words: "The poor people of the valley to M.
Frederick Bastien."
Then followed the date of the overflow.
Jean Francois, having subdued his emotion, said, as he showed the boat to the son of Madame Bastien:
"M. Frederick, we united with each other in making this little boat, which almost looks like the one which served you in saving us and our effects. Excuse the liberty, M. Frederick, but it is with good intention and warm friendship that we bring this little boat to you. When you use it, you will think of the poor people of the valley, and upon those who will always love you, M. Frederick; they will teach your name to their little children, who, when they are grown, will some day teach it to theirs, because that name, you see, M. Frederick, is now the name of the good saint of the country."
Frederick allowed his tears to flow, as a silent and eloquent response.
David then, leaning over his pupil"s ear, whispered to him:
"My child, is not this rude procession worth all the splendour of the brilliant hunting procession of St. Hubert?"
At the moment Frederick turned toward David to press his hand, he saw a movement in the crowd, which, suddenly separating itself with a murmur of surprise and curiosity, gave pa.s.sage to Raoul de Pont Brillant.
The marquis advanced a little in front of Jean Francois; then, with perfect ease and grace, he said to Frederick:
"I have come, monsieur, to thank you for saving my life, because this is my first day out, and it was my duty to dedicate it to you. I met these good people on the way, and after learning from one of them the purpose of their a.s.semblage I joined them, since, like these good people, I am of the valley, and like several of them, I owe my life to you."
After these words, uttered with an accent perhaps more polished than emotional, the Marquis de Pont Brillant, with exquisite tact, again mingled with the mult.i.tude.
"Ah, well, my child," whispered David to Frederick, "is it not the Marquis de Pont Brillant now who ought to envy you?"
Frederick pressed David"s hand, but was possessed by the thought: "He whom I basely desired to murder is there, ignorant of my dastardly attempt, and he has come to thank me for saving his life."
Then the son of Madame Bastien, addressing the people of the valley, said to them, in an impa.s.sioned voice, as he mingled with them, and cordially pressed their hands:
"My friends, what I have done was done at the suggestion of my mother, and with the aid of my friend, M. David. It is, then, in their name, as well as my own, that I thank you from the bottom of my heart for these evidences of affection. As to this little boat," added the young man, turning toward the boat which had been deposited in the middle of the garden, and contemplating it with as much sadness as joy, "it shall be consecrated to the pleasure of my mother, and this touching inscription will remind us of the inhabitants of the valley, whom we love as much as they love us."
Then Frederick, addressing in turn all those who surrounded him, asked one if his fields were in a tillable condition, another if he hoped to preserve a great part of his vineyard, another still if the slime deposited on his land by the Loire had not somewhat compensated for the disaster from which he had suffered. To all Frederick said some word which proved that he had their interest and their misfortunes at heart.
Marie, on her part, speaking to the women and mothers and children, found a word of affection and solicitude for all, and proved that like her son she had a perfect acquaintance with the sorrows and needs of each one.