CHAPTER III. THE BLUE SUN INN
It was in front of the largest house in a wretched little hamlet thatthe weary oxen drawing the chariot of Thespis stopped of their ownaccord. The wooden sign that creaked distractingly as it swung to andfro at every breath of wind bore a large, blue sun, darting its rays,after the most approved fashion, to the utmost dimensions of the boardon which it was painted. Rather an original idea, one would say, to havea blue orb of day instead of a golden one--such as adorned so many otherinns on the great post-road--but originality had had nothing whatever todo with it. The wandering painter who produced this remarkable work ofart happened to have no vestige of any colour but blue left upon hispalette, and he discoursed so eloquently of the superiority of this tintto all others that he succeeded in persuading the worthy innkeeper tohave an azure sun depicted on his swinging sign. And not this one alonehad yielded to his specious arguments, for he had painted blue lions,blue cocks, blue horses, on various signs in the country round, in amanner that would have delighted the Chinese--who esteem an artist inproportion to the unnaturalness of his designs and colouring.
The few scrawny, unwholesome-looking children feebly playing in themuddy, filthy, little street, and the prematurely old, ghastly womenstanding at the open doors of the miserable thatched huts of which thehamlet was composed, were but too evidently the wretched victims of asevere type of malarial fever that prevails in the Landes. They weretruly piteous objects, and our travellers were glad to take refuge inthe inn--though it was anything but inviting--and so get out of sight ofthem.
The landlord, a villainous looking fellow, with an ugly crimsonscar across his forehead, who rejoiced in the extraordinary name ofChirriguirri, received them with many low obeisances, and led the wayinto his house, talking volubly of the excellent accommodations to befound therein.
The Baron de Sigognac hesitated ere he crossed the threshold, though thecomedians had all drawn back respectfully to allow him to precede them.His pride revolted at going into such a place in such company, but oneglance from Isabelle put everything else out of his head, and he enteredthe dirty little inn at her side with an air of joyful alacrity. In thehappy kingdom of France the fortunate man who escorted a pretty woman,no matter where, needed not to fear ridicule or contumely, and was sureto be envied.
The large low room into which Maitre Chirriguirri ushered the party,with much ceremony and many bows, was scarcely so magnificent as hehad given them reason to expect, but our strolling players had long agolearned to take whatever came in their way without grumbling, and theyseated themselves quietly on the rude wooden settles ranged round arough, stone platform in the centre of the apartment, upon which a fewsticks of wood were blazing the smoke escaping through an opening in theroof above. From an iron bar which crossed this opening a strong chainwas suspended, and fastened to it was the crane, so that it hung at theproper height over the fire--for this was the kitchen as well as thereception room. The low ceiling was blackened with the smoke that filledthe upper part of the room and escaped slowly through the hole over thefire, unless a puff of wind drove it back again. A row of bright coppercasseroles hanging against the wall--like the burnished shields alongthe sides of the ancient triremes, if this comparison be not too noblefor such a lowly subject--gleamed vaguely in the flashing of the redfire-light, and a large, half-empty wine-skin lying on the floor inone corner looked like a beheaded body carelessly flung down there.Certainly not a cheerful looking place, but, the fire being newlyreplenished burned brightly, and our weary travellers were glad to baskin its genial warmth.
At the end of one of the wooden benches a little girl was sitting,apparently sound asleep. She was a poor, thin, little creature, witha mass of long, tangled, black hair, which hung down over her face andalmost concealed it, as she sat with her head drooping forward on herbreast. Her scanty clothing was tattered and dirty, her feet and poor,thin, little legs brown and bare, and covered with scratches--some stillbleeding which bore witness to much running through the thorny furzethickets.
Isabelle, who chanced to sit down near her, cast many pitying glancesupon this forlorn little figure, but took care not to disturb the quietsleep she seemed to be enjoying in her uncomfortable resting-place.After a little, when she had turned to speak to Serafina, who satbeside her, the child woke with a start, and pushing back the mass ofdishevelled hair revealed a sad little face, so thin that the cheekbones were painfully prominent, and pale to ghastliness. A pair ofmagnificent, dark brown eyes, with heavy sweeping lashes, lookedpreternaturally large in her woe-begone little countenance, and atthis moment were filled with wondering admiration, mingled withfierce covetousness, as she stared at Serafina's mock jewels--and moreespecially at Isabelle's row of pearl beads. She seemed fairly dazzledby these latter, and gazed at them fixedly in a sort of ecstasy--havingevidently never seen anything like them before, and probably thinkingthey must be of immense value. Occasionally her eyes wandered to thedresses of the two ladies, and at last, unable to restrain her ardentcuriosity any longer, she put out her little brown hand and softly feltof Isabelle's gown, apparently finding exquisite delight in the merecontact of her finger-tips with the smooth, glossy surface of the silk.Though her touch was so light Isabelle immediately turned towards thechild and smiled upon her encouragingly, but the poor little vagabond,finding herself detected, in an instant had assumed a stupid, almostidiotic look--with an instinctive amount of histrionic art that wouldhave done honour to a finished actress. Then dropping her eyelids andleaning her shoulders against the hard back of the wooden settle sheseemed to fall into a deep sleep, with her head bent down upon herbreast in the old attitude.
Meanwhile Maitre Chirriguirri had been talking long and loudly about thechoice delicacies he could have set before his guests if they hadonly come a day or two earlier, and enumerating all sorts of finedishes--which doubtless had existed only in his own very vividimagination--though he told a high-sounding story about the noblemenand grandees who had supped at his house and devoured all these daintiesonly yesterday. When at length the flow of his eloquence was checkedby a display of ferocity on the part of the tyrant, and he was finallybrought to the point, he acknowledged that he could only give them someof the soup called garbure--with which we have already made acquaintanceat the Chateau de Sigognac, some salt codfish, and a dish of bacon; withplenty of wine, which according to his account was fit for the gods. Ourweary travellers were so hungry by this time that they were glad of eventhis frugal fare, and when Mionnette, a gaunt, morose-looking creature,the only servant that the inn could boast, announced that their supperwas ready in an adjoining room, they did not wait to be summoned asecond time.
They were still at table when a great barking of dogs was heard without,together with the noise of horses' feet, and in a moment three loud,impatient knocks upon the outer door resounded through the house.Mionnette rushed to open it, whereupon a gentleman entered, followed bya number of dogs, who nearly knocked the tall maid-servant over in theireagerness to get in, and rushed into the dining-room where our friendswere assembled, barking, jumping over each other, and licking off theplates that had been used and removed to a low side table, before theirmaster could stop them. A few sharp cuts with the whip he held in hishand distributed promiscuously among them, without distinction betweenthe innocent and the guilty ones, quieted this uproar as if by magic,and the aggressive hounds, taking refuge under the benches ranged alongthe walls, curled themselves round on the floor and went comfortablyto sleep, or lay panting, with their red tongues hanging out of theirmouths and heads reposing on their fore-paws--not daring to stir.
The obstreperous dogs thus disposed of, the cavalier advanced into theroom, with the calm assurance of a man who feels perfectly at his ease;his spurs ringing against the stone floor at every step. The landlordfollowed him obsequiously, cap in hand, cringing and bowing in mosthumble fashion--having entirely laid aside his boasting air andevidently feeling very ill at ease--this being a personage of whom hestood in awe. As the gentlema
n approached the table he politely salutedthe company, before turning to give his orders to Maitre Chirriguirri,who stood silently awaiting them.
The newcomer was a handsome man of about thirty, with curly light hair,and a fair complexion, somewhat reddened by exposure to the sun. Hiseyes were blue, and rather prominent, his nose slightly retroussi; hissmall blond mustache was carefully turned up at the ends, and scarcelyshaded a well-formed but sensual mouth, below which was a small, pointedbeard--called a royal in those days, an imperial in these. As he tookoff his broad felt hat, richly ornamented with long sweeping plumes,and threw it carelessly down on one of the benches, it was seen thathis smooth, broad forehead was snowy white, and the contrast with hissunburnt cheeks was not by any means displeasing. Indeed it was a veryhandsome, attractive face, in which an expression of frank gaiety andgood humour tempered the air of pride that pervaded it.
The dress of this gay cavalier was extremely rich and elegant; almosttoo much so for the country. But when we say that the marquis--forsuch was his title--had been following the hounds in company with thebeautiful Yolande de Foix, we feel that his costume, of blue velvetelaborately decorated with silver braid, is fully accounted for. He wasone of the gallants that shone at court in Paris--where he was in thehabit of spending a large portion of every year--and he prided himselfon being one of the best dressed noblemen in France.
His order to the obsequious landlord was in few words. "I want somebroth for my dogs, some oats for my horses, a piece of bread and a sliceof ham for myself, and something or other for my grooms"--and then headvanced smilingly to the table and sat down in a vacant place besidethe pretty soubrette, who, charmed with such a gay, handsome seignior,had been pleased to bestow a languishing glance and a brilliant smileupon him.
Maitre Chirriguirri hastened to fetch what he had demanded, while thesoubrette, with the grace of a Hebe, filled his glass to the brim withwine; which he accepted with a smile, and drank off at a single draught.For a few minutes he was fully occupied in satisfying his hunger--whichwas veritably that of a hunter--and then looking about him at the partyassembled round the table, remarked the Baron de Sigognac, with whomhe had a slight acquaintance, seated beside the fair Isabelle--in whosecompany indeed he had seen him already once before that day. The twoyoung people were talking together in low tones, and quite absorbed ineach other; but the language of their eyes was unmistakable, and themarquis smiled to himself as he took note of what he supposed to bea very promising intrigue--wherein he did the youthful pair greatinjustice. As a thorough man of the world he was not at all surprisedat finding de Sigognac with this band of vagabond players, from sucha motive, and the half-pitying contempt he had formerly felt for theshabby, retiring young baron was straightway changed to a certainadmiration and respect by this evidence of his gallantry. When he caughthis eye he made a little gesture of recognition and approval--to showthat he understood and appreciated his position--but paid no furtherattention to him, evidently meaning to respect his incognito,and devoted himself to the soubrette. She received his high-flowncompliments with peals of laughter, and paid him back in his own coinwith considerable wit and much merriment, to the great delight of themarquis--who was always delighted to meet with any adventure of thissort.
Wishing to pursue this one, which opened so well, he declaredloudly that he was passionately fond of the theatre, and complainedpathetically of being deprived altogether of this, his favouriteamusement, in the country; then addressing himself to the tyrant heasked whether the troupe had any pressing engagements that would preventtheir turning aside a little from the usual route to visit the Chateaude Bruyeres and give one of their best plays there--it would be an easymatter to rig up a theatre for them in the great hall or the orangery.
The tyrant hastened to reply that nothing could be easier, and that thetroupe, one of the best that had ever travelled through the provinces,was entirely at his lordship's disposition--"from the king to thesoubrette"--he added, with a broad grin.
"That is capital," said the marquis, "and as to money matters, you canarrange them to suit yourself. I should not think of bargaining with thevotaries of Thalia--a muse so highly favoured by Apollo, and as eagerlysought after, and enthusiastically applauded, at the court of his mostgracious majesty as in town and country everywhere."
After arranging the necessary preliminaries, the marquis, who hadmeantime surreptitiously squeezed the soubrette's hand under the table,rose, called his dogs together, put on his hat, waved his hand to thecompany in token of adieu, and took his departure amid much barking andcommotion--going directly home, in order to set on foot his preparationsto receive the comedians on the morrow at his chateau.
As it was growing late, and they were to make an early start the nextmorning, our tired travellers lost no time in going to rest; the womenin a sort of loft, where they had to make themselves as comfortable asthey could with the bundles of straw that were to serve them for beds,whilst the men slept on the benches in the room where they had supped.