Le Juif errant. English

  CHAPTER XXIII. M. RODIN.

  Three months have elapsed since Djalma was thrown into Batavia Prisonaccused of belonging to the murderous gang of Megpunnas. The followingscene takes place in France, at the commencement of the month ofFebruary, 1832, in Cardoville Manor House, an old feudal habitationstanding upon the tall cliffs of Picardy, not far from Saint Valery,a dangerous coast on which almost every year many ships are totallywrecked, being driven on shore by the northwesters, which render thenavigation of the Channel so perilous.

  From the interior of the Castle is heard the howling of a violenttempest, which has arisen during the night; a frequent formidablenoise, like the discharge of artillery, thunders in the distance, andis repeated by the echoes of the shore; it is the sea breaking with furyagainst the high rocks which are overlooked by the ancient Manor House.

  It is about seven o'clock in the morning. Daylight is not yet visiblethrough the windows of a large room situated on the ground-floor. Inthis apartment, in which a lamp is burning, a woman of about sixty yearsof age, with a simple and honest countenance, dressed as a richfarmer's wife of Picardy, is already occupied with her needle-work,notwithstanding the early hour. Close by, the husband of this woman,about the same age as herself, is seated at a large table, sorting andputting up in bags divers samples of wheat and oats. The face of thiswhite-haired man is intelligent and open, announcing good senseand honesty, enlivened by a touch of rustic humor; he wears ashooting-jacket of green cloth, and long gaiters of tan-colored leather,which half conceal his black velveteen breeches.

  The terrible storm which rages without renders still more agreeablethe picture of this peaceful interior. A rousing fire burns in a broadchimney-place faced with white marble, and throws its joyous light onthe carefully polished floor; nothing can be more cheerful than the oldfashioned chintz hangings and curtains with red Chinese figures upon awhite ground, and the panels over the door painted with pastoral scenesin the style of Watteau. A clock of Sevres china, and rosewood furnitureinlaid with green--quaint and portly furniture, twisted into all sortsof grotesque shapes--complete the decorations of this apartment.

  Out-doors, the gale continued to howl furiously, and sometimes a gustof wind would rush down the chimney, or shake the fastenings of thewindows. The man who was occupied in sorting the samples of grain was M.Dupont, bailiff of Cardoville manor.

  "Holy Virgin!" said his wife; "what dreadful weather, my dear! ThisM. Rodin, who is to come here this morning, as the Princess de SaintDizier's steward announced to us, picked out a very bad day for it."

  "Why, in truth, I have rarely heard such a hurricane. If M. Rodin hasnever seen the sea in its fury, he may feast his eyes to-day with thesight."

  "What can it be that brings this M. Rodin, my dear?"

  "Faith! I know nothing about it. The steward tells me in his letter toshow M. Rodin the greatest attention, and to obey him as if he were mymaster. It will be for him to explain himself, and for me to execute hisorders, since he comes on the part of the princess."

  "By rights he should come from Mademoiselle Adrienne, as the landbelongs to her since the death of the duke her father."

  "Yes; but the princess being aunt to the young lady, her steward managesMademoiselle Adrienne's affairs--so whether one or the other, it amountsto the same thing."

  "May be M. Rodin means to buy the estate. Though, to be sure, thatstout lady who came from Paris last week on purpose to see the chateauappeared to have a great wish for it."

  At these words the bailiff began to laugh with a sly look.

  "What is there to laugh at, Dupont?" asked his wife, a very goodcreature, but not famous for intelligence or penetration.

  "I laugh," answered Dupont, "to think of the face and figure of thatenormous woman: with such a look, who the devil would call themselvesMadame de la Sainte-Colombe--Mrs. Holy Dove? A pretty saint, and apretty dove, truly! She is round as a hogshead, with the voice of atown-crier; has gray moustachios like an old grenadier, and withouther knowing it, I heard her say to her servant: 'Stir your stumps, myhearty!'--and yet she calls herself Sainte-Colombe!"

  "How hard on her you are, Dupont; a body don't choose one's name. And,if she has a beard, it is not the lady's fault."

  "No--but it is her fault to call herself Sainte-Colombe. Do you imagineit her true name? Ah, my poor Catherine, you are yet very green in somethings."

  "While you, my poor Dupont, are well read in slander! This lady seemsvery respectable. The first thing she asked for on arriving was thechapel of the Castle, of which she had heard speak. She even said thatshe would make some embellishments in it; and, when I told her we hadno church in this little place, she appeared quite vexed not to have acurate in the village."

  "Oh, to be sure! that's the first thought of your upstarts--to play thegreat lady of the parish, like your titled people."

  "Madame de la Sainte-Colombe need not play the great lady, because sheis one."

  "She! a great lady? Oh, lor'!"

  "Yes--only see how she was dressed, in scarlet gown, and violet gloveslike a bishop's; and, when she took off her bonnet, she had a diamondband round her head-dress of false, light hair, and diamond ear-dropsas large as my thumb, and diamond rings on every finger! None of yourtuppenny beauties would wear so many diamonds in the middle of the day."

  "You are a pretty judge!"

  "That is not all."

  "Do you mean to say there's more?"

  "She talked of nothing but dukes, and marquises, and counts, and veryrich gentlemen, who visit at her house, and are her most intimatefriends; and then, when she saw the summer house in the park, half-burntby the Prussians, which our late master never rebuilt, she asked, 'Whatare those ruins there?' and I answered: 'Madame, it was in the time ofthe Allies that the pavilion was burnt.'--'Oh, my clear,' cried she;'our allies, good, dear allies! they and the Restoration began myfortune!' So you see, Dupont, I said to myself directly: 'She was nodoubt one of the noble women who fled abroad--'"

  "Madame de la Sainte-Colombe!" cried the bailiff, laughing heartily."Oh, my poor, poor wife!"

  "Oh, it is all very well; but because you have been three years atParis, don't think yourself a conjurer!"

  "Catherine, let's drop it: you will make me say some folly, and thereare certain things which dear, good creatures like you need never know."

  "I cannot tell what you are driving at, only try to be lessslanderous--for, after all, should Madame de la Sainte-Colombe buy theestate, will you be sorry to remain as her bailiff, eh?"

  "Not I--for we are getting old, my good Catherine; we have lived heretwenty years, and we have been too honest to provide for our old daysby pilfering--and truly, at our age, it would be hard to seek anotherplace, which perhaps we should not find. What I regret is, thatMademoiselle Adrienne should not keep the land; it seems that she wishedto sell it, against the will of the princess."

  "Good gracious, Dupont! is it not very extraordinary that MademoiselleAdrienne should have the disposal of her large fortune so early inlife?"

  "Faith! simple enough. Our young lady, having no father or mother, ismistress of her property, besides having a famous little will of herown. Dost remember, ten years ago, when the count brought her down hereone summer?--what an imp of mischief! and then what eyes! eh?--how theysparkled, even then!"

  "It is true that Mademoiselle Adrienne had in her look--an expression--avery uncommon expression for her age."

  "If she has kept what her witching, luring face promised, she must bevery pretty by this time, notwithstanding the peculiar color of herhair--for, between ourselves, if she had been a tradesman's daughter,instead of a young lady of high birth, they would have called it red."

  "There again! more slander."

  "What! against Mademoiselle Adrienne? Heaven forbid--I always thoughtthat she would be as good as pretty, and it is not speaking ill of herto say she has red hair. On the contrary, it always appears to me sofine, so bright, so sunny, and to suit so well her snowy complexion andblack eyes, t
hat in truth I would not have had it other than it was;and I am sure, that now this very color of her hair, which would bea blemish in any one else, must only add to the charm of MademoiselleAdrienne's face. She must have such a sweet vixen look!"

  "Oh! to be candid, she really was a vixen--always running about thepark, aggravating her governess, climbing the trees--in fact, playingall manner of naughty tricks."

  "I grant you, Mademoiselle Adrienne was a chip of the old block; butthen what wit, what engaging ways, and above all, what a good heart!"

  "Yes--that she certainly had. Once I remember she gave her shawl andher new merino frock to a poor little beggar girl, and came back to thehouse in her petticoat, and bare arms."

  "Oh, an excellent heart--but headstrong--terribly headstrong!"

  "Yes--that she was; and 'tis likely to finish badly, for it seems thatshe does things at Paris--oh! such things--"

  "What things?"

  "Oh, my dear; I can hardly venture--"

  "Fell, but what are they?"

  "Why," said the worthy dame, with a sort of embarrassment and confusion,which showed how much she was shocked by such enormities, "they say,that Mademoiselle Adrienne never sets foot in a church, but lives in akind of heathen temple in her aunt's garden, where she has masked womento dress her up like a goddess, and scratches them very often, becauseshe gets tipsy--without mentioning, that every night she plays on ahunting horn of massive gold--all which causes the utmost grief anddespair to her poor aunt the princess."

  Here the bailiff burst into a fit of laughter, which interrupted hiswife.

  "Now tell me," said he, when this first access of hilarity was over,"where did you get these fine stories about Mademoiselle Adrienne?"

  "From Rene's wife, who went to Paris to look for a child to nurse; shecalled at Saint-Dizier House, to see Madame Grivois, her godmother.--NowMadame Grivois is first bedchamber woman to the princess--and she itwas who told her all this--and surely she ought to know, being in thehouse."

  "Yes, a fine piece of goods that Grivois! once she was a regular bad'un, but now she professes to be as over-nice as her mistress; likemaster like man, they say. The princess herself, who is now so stiff andstarched, knew how to carry on a lively game in her time. Fifteen yearsago, she was no such prude: do you remember that handsome colonel ofhussars, who was in garrison at Abbeville? an exiled noble who hadserved in Russia, whom the Bourbons gave a regiment on the Restoration?"

  "Yes, yes--I remember him; but you are really too backbiting."

  "Not a bit--I only speak the truth. The colonel spent his whole timehere, and every one said he was very warm with this same princess, whois now such a saint. Oh! those were the jolly times. Every evening, somenew entertainment at the chateau. What a fellow that colonel was, to setthings going; how well he could act a play!--I remember--"

  The bailiff was unable to proceed. A stout maid-servant, wearing thecostume and cap of Picardy, entered in haste, and thus addressed hermistress: "Madame, there is a person here that wants to speak to master;he has come in the postmaster's calash from Saint-Valery, and he saysthat he is M. Rodin."

  "M. Rodin?" said the bailiff rising. "Show him in directly!"

  A moment after, M. Rodin made his appearance. According to his custom,he was dressed even more than plainly. With an air of great humility,he saluted the bailiff and his wife, and at a sign from her husband,the latter withdrew. The cadaverous countenance of M. Rodin, his almostinvisible lips, his little reptile eyes, half concealed by their flabbylids, and the sordid style of his dress, rendered his general aspectfar from prepossessing; yet this man knew how, when it was necessary,to affect, with diabolical art, so much sincerity and good-nature--hiswords were so affectionate and subtly penetrating--that the disagreeablefeeling of repugnance, which the first sight of him generally inspired,wore off little by little, and he almost always finished by involvinghis dupe or victim in the tortuous windings of an eloquence as pliantas it was honeyed and perfidious; for ugliness and evil have theirfascination, as well as what is good and fair.

  The honest bailiff looked at this man with surprise, when he thoughtof the pressing recommendation of the steward of the Princess de SaintDizier; he had expected to see quite another sort of personage, and,hardly able to dissemble his astonishment, he said to him: "Is it to M.Rodin that I have the honor to speak?"

  "Yes, sir; and here is another letter from the steward of the Princessde Saint-Dizier."

  "Pray, sir, draw near the fire, whilst I just see what is in thisletter. The weather is so bad," continued the bailiff, obligingly, "mayI not offer you some refreshment?"

  "A thousand thanks, my dear sir; I am off again in an hour."

  Whilst M. Dupont read, M. Rodin threw inquisitive glances round thechamber; like a man of skill and experience, he had frequently drawnjust and useful inductions from those little appearances, which,revealing a taste or habit, give at the same time some notion of acharacter; on this occasion, however, his curiosity was at fault.

  "Very good, sir," said the bailiff, when he had finished reading; "thesteward renews his recommendation, and tells me to attend implicitly toyour commands."

  "Well, sir, they will amount to very little, and I shall not trouble youlong."

  "It will be no trouble, but an honor."

  "Nay, I know how much your time must be occupied, for, as soon as oneenters this chateau, one is struck with the good order and perfectkeeping of everything in it--which proves, my dear sir, what excellentcare you take of it."

  "Oh, sir, you flatter me."

  "Flatter you?--a poor old man like myself has something else to thinkof. But to come to business: there is a room here which is called theGreen Chamber?"

  "Yes, sir; the room which the late Count-Duke de Cardoville used for astudy."

  "You will have the goodness to take me there."

  "Unfortunately, it is not in my power to do so. After the death of theCount-Duke, and when the seals were removed, a number of papers wereshut up in a cabinet in that room, and the lawyers took the keys withthem to Paris."

  "Here are those keys," said M. Rodin, showing to the bailiff a large anda small key tied together.

  "Oh, sir! that is different. You come to look for papers?"

  "Yes--for certain papers--and also far a small mahogany casket, withsilver clasps--do you happen to know it?"

  "Yes, sir; I have often seen it on the count's writing-table. It must bein the large, lacquered cabinet, of which you have the key."

  "You will conduct me to this chamber, as authorized by the Princess deSaint-Dizier?"

  "Yes, sir; the princess continues in good health?"

  "Perfectly so. She lives altogether above worldly things."

  "And Mademoiselle Adrienne?"

  "Alas, my dear sir!" said M. Rodin, with a sigh of deep contrition andgrief.

  "Good heaven, sir! has any calamity happened to Mademoiselle Adrienne?"

  "In what sense do you mean it?"

  "Is she ill?"

  "No, no--she is, unfortunately, as well as she is beautiful."

  "Unfortunately!" cried the bailiff, in surprise.

  "Alas, yes! for when beauty, youth, and health are joined to an evilspirit of revolt and perversity--to a character which certainly has notits equal upon earth--it would be far better to be deprived of thosedangerous advantages, which only become so many causes of perdition. ButI conjure you, my dear sir, let us talk of something else: this subjectis too painful," said M. Rodin, with a voice of deep emotion, liftingthe tip of his little finger to the corner of his right eye, as if tostop a rising tear.

  The bailiff did not see the tear, but he saw the gesture, and he wasstruck with the change in M. Rodin's voice. He answered him, therefore,with much sympathy: "Pardon my indiscretion, sir; I really did notknow--"

  "It is I who should ask pardon for this involuntary display offeeling--tears are so rare with old men--but if you had seen, as I have,the despair of that excellent princess, whose only fault has been toomuch
kindness, too much weakness, with regard to her niece--by which shehas encouraged her--but, once more, let us talk of something else, mydear sir!"

  After a moment's pause, during which M. Rodin seemed to recover from hisemotion, he said to Dupont: "One part of my mission, my dear sir--thatwhich relates to the Green Chamber--I have now told you; but thereis yet another. Before coming to it, however, I must remind you of acircumstance you have perhaps forgotten--namely, that some fifteen orsixteen years ago, the Marquis d'Aigrigny, then colonel of the hussarsin garrison at Abbeville, spent some time in this house."

  "Oh, sir! what a dashing officer was there! It was only just now, thatI was talking about him to my wife. He was the life of the house!--howwell he could perform plays--particularly the character of a scapegrace.In the Two Edmonds, for instance, he would make you die with laughing,in that part of a drunken soldier--and then, with what a charming voicehe sang Joconde, sir--better than they could sing it at Paris!"

  Rodin, having listened complacently to the bailiff, said to him:"You doubtless know that, after a fierce duel he had with a furiousBonapartist, one General Simon, the Marquis d'Aigrigny (whose privatesecretary I have now the honor to be) left the world for the church."

  "No, sir! is it possible? That fine officer!"

  "That fine officer--brave, noble, rich, esteemed, andflattered--abandoned all those advantages for the sorry black gown; and,notwithstanding his name, position, high connections, his reputation asa great preacher, he is still what he was fourteen years ago--a plainabbe--whilst so many, who have neither his merit nor his virtues, arearchbishops and cardinals."

  M. Rodin expressed himself with so much goodness, with such an air ofconviction, and the facts he cited appeared to be so incontestable,that M. Dupont could not help exclaiming: "Well, sir, that is splendidconduct!"

  "Splendid? Oh, no!" said M. Rodin, with an inimitable expression ofsimplicity; "it is quite a matter of course when one has a heart likeM. d'Aigrigny's. But amongst all his good qualities, he has particularlythat of never forgetting worthy people--people of integrity, honor,conscience--and therefore, my dear M. Dupont, he has not forgotten you."

  "What, the most noble marquis deigns to remember--"

  "Three days ago, I received a letter from him, in which he mentions yourname."

  "Is he then at Paris?"

  "He will be there soon, if not there now. He went to Italy about threemonths ago, and, during his absence, he received a very sad piece ofnews--the death of his mother, who was passing the autumn on one of theestates of the Princess de Saint-Dizier."

  "Oh, indeed! I was not aware of it."

  "Yes, it was a cruel grief to him; but we must all resign ourselves tothe will of Providence!"

  "And with regard to what subject did the marquis do me the honor tomention my name?"

  "I am going to tell you. First of all, you must know that this houseis sold. The bill of sale was signed the day before my departure fromParis."

  "Oh, sir! that renews all my uneasiness."

  "Pray, why?"

  "I am afraid that the new proprietors may not choose to keep me as theirbailiff."

  "Now see what a lucky chance! It is just on that subject that I am goingto speak to you."

  "Is it possible?"

  "Certainly. Knowing the interest which the marquis feels for you, I amparticularly desirous that you should keep this place, and I will do allin my power to serve you, if--"

  "Ah, sir!" cried Dupont, interrupting Rodin; "what gratitude do I notowe you! It is Heaven that sends you to me!'

  "Now, my dear sir, you flatter me in your turn; but I ought to tell you,that I'm obliged to annex a small condition to my support."

  "Oh, by all means! Only name it, sir--name it!"

  "The person who is about to inhabit this mansion, is an old lady inevery way worthy of veneration; Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is the nameof this respectable--"

  "What, sir?" said the bailiff, interrupting Rodin; "Madame de la SainteColombe the lady who has bought us out?"

  "Do you know her?"

  "Yes, sir, she came last week to see the estate. My wife persists thatshe is a great lady; but--between ourselves--judging by certain wordsthat I heard her speak--"

  "You are full of penetration, my dear M. Dupont. Madame de la SainteColombe is far from being a great lady. I believe she was neither morenor less than a milliner, under one of the wooden porticoes of thePalais Royal. You see, that I deal openly with you."

  "And she boasted of all the noblemen, French and foreign, who used tovisit her!"

  "No doubt, they came to buy bonnets for their wives! However, the factis, that, having gained a large fortune and, after being in youth andmiddle age--indifferent--alas! more than indifferent to the salvationof her soul--Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is now in a likely wayto experience grace--which renders her, as I told you, worthyof veneration, because nothing is so respectable as a sincererepentance--always providing it to be lasting. Now to make the good worksure and effectual, we shall need your assistance, my dear M. Dupont."

  "Mine, sir! what can I do in it?"

  "A great deal; and I will explain to you how. There is no church in thisvillage, which stands at an equal distance from either of two parishes.Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, wishing to make choice of one of the twoclergymen, will naturally apply to you and Madame Dupont, who have longlived in these parts, for information respecting them."

  "Oh! in that case the choice will soon be made. The incumbent ofDanicourt is one of the best of men."

  "Now that is precisely what you must not say to Madame de la SainteColombe."

  "How so?"

  "You must, on the contrary, much praise, without ceasing, the curateof Roiville, the other parish, so as to decide this good lady to trustherself to his care."

  "And why, sir, to him rather than to the other?"

  "Why?--because, if you and Madame Dupont succeed in persuading Madame dela Sainte-Colombe to make the choice I wish, you will be certain to keepyour place as bailiff. I give you my word of it, and what I promise Iperform."

  "I do not doubt, sir, that you have this power," said Dupont, convincedby Rodin's manner, and the authority of his words; "but I should like toknow--"

  "One word more," said Rodin, interrupting him; "I will deal openly withyou, and tell you why I insist on the preference which I beg you tosupport. I should be grieved if you saw in all this the shadow of anintrigue. It is only for the purpose of doing a good action. Thecurate of Roiville, for whom I ask your influence, is a man for whom M.d'Aigrigny feels a deep interest. Though very poor, he has to supportan aged mother. Now, if he had the spiritual care of Madame de la SainteColombe, he would do more good than any one else, because he is fullof zeal and patience; and then it is clear he would reap some littleadvantages, by which his old mother might profit--there you see is thesecret of this mighty scheme. When I knew that this lady was disposed tobuy an estate in the neighborhood of our friend's parish, I wrote aboutit to the marquis; and he, remembering you, desired me to ask youto render him this small service, which, as you see, will not remainwithout a recompense. For I tell you once more, and I will prove it,that I have the power to keep you in your place as bailiff."

  "Well, sir," replied Dupont, after a moment's reflection, "you are sofrank and obliging, that I will imitate your sincerity. In the samedegree that the curate of Danicourt is respected and loved in thiscountry, the curate of Roiville, whom you wish me to prefer to him, isdreaded for his intolerance--and, moreover--"

  "Well, and what more?"

  "Why, then, they say--"

  "Come, what do they say?"

  "They say--he is a Jesuit."

  Upon these words, M. Rodin burst into so hearty a laugh that the bailiffwas quite struck dumb with amazement--for the countenance of M. Rodintook a singular expression when he laughed. "A Jesuit!" he repeated,with redoubled hilarity; "a Jesuit!--Now really, my dear M. Dupont, fora man of sense, experience, and intelligence, how can you believe suchidle stori
es?--A Jesuit--are there such people as Jesuits?--in our time,above all, can you believe such romance of the Jacobins, hobgoblins ofthe old freedom lovers?--Come, come; I wager, you have read about themin the Constitutionnel!"

  "And yet, sir, they say--"

  "Good heavens! what will they not say?--But wise men, prudent men likeyou, do not meddle with what is said--they manage their own littlematters, without doing injury to any one, and they never sacrifice, forthe sake of nonsense, a good place, which secures them a comfortableprovision for the rest of their days. I tell you frankly, however much Imay regret it, that should you not succeed in getting the preference formy man, you will not remain bailiff here.

  "But, sir," said poor Dupont, "it will not be my fault, if this lady,hearing a great deal in praise of the other curate, should prefer him toyour friend."

  "Ah! but if, on the other hand, persons who have long lived in theneighborhood--persons worthy of confidence, whom she will see everyday--tell Madame de la Sainte-Colombe a great deal of good of my friend,and a great deal of harm of the other curate, she will prefer theformer, and you will continue bailiff."

  "But, sir--that would be calumny!" cried Dupont.

  "Pshaw, my dear M. Dupont!" said Rodin, with an air of sorrowful andaffectionate reproach, "how can you think me capable of giving you evilcounsel?--I was only making a supposition. You wish to remain bailiffon this estate. I offer you the certainty of doing so--it is for you toconsider and decide."

  "But, sir--"

  "One word more--or rather one more condition--as important as the other.Unfortunately, we have seen clergymen take advantage of the age andweakness of their penitents, unfairly to benefit either themselves orothers: I believe our protege incapable of any such baseness--but, inorder to discharge my responsibility--and yours also, as you will havecontributed to his appointment--I must request that you will write to metwice a week, giving the most exact detail of all that you have remarkedin the character, habits, connections, pursuits, of Madame de la SainteColombe--for the influence of a confessor, you see, reveals itself inthe whole conduct of life, and I should wish to be fully edified by theproceedings of my friend, without his being aware of it--or, if anythingblameable were to strike you, I should be immediately informed of it bythis weekly correspondence."

  "But, sir--that would be to act as a spy?" exclaimed the unfortunatebailiff.

  "Now, my dear M. Dupont! how can you thus brand the sweetest, mostwholesome of human desires--mutual confidence?--I ask of you nothingelse--I ask of you to write to me confidentially the details of all thatgoes on here. On these two conditions, inseparable one from the other,you remain bailiff; otherwise, I shall be forced, with grief and regret,to recommend some one else to Madame de la Sainte-Colombe."

  "I beg you, sir," said Dupont, with emotion, "Be generous without anyconditions!--I and my wife have only this place to give us bread, and weare too old to find another. Do not expose our probity of fortyyears' standing to be tempted by the fear of want, which is so bad acounsellor!"

  "My dear M. Dupont, you are really a great child: you must reflect uponthis, and give me your answer in the course of a week."

  "Oh, sir! I implore you--" The conversation was here interrupted by aloud report, which was almost instantaneously repeated by the echoes ofthe cliffs. "What is that?" said M. Rodin. Hardly had he spoken, whenthe same noise was again heard more distinctly than before.

  "It is the sound of cannon," cried Dupont, rising; "no doubt a ship indistress, or signaling for a pilot."

  "My dear," said the bailiffs wife, entering abruptly, "from the terrace,we can see a steamer and a large ship nearly dismasted--they aredrifting right upon the shore--the ship is firing minute gulls--it willbe lost."

  "Oh, it is terrible!" cried the bailiff, taking his hat and preparing togo out, "to look on at a shipwreck, and be able to do nothing!"

  "Can no help be given to these vessels?" asked M. Rodin.

  "If they are driven upon the reefs, no human power can save them; sincethe last equinox two ships have been lost on this coast."

  "Lost with all on board?--Oh, very frightful," said M. Rodin.

  "In such a storm, there is but little chance for the crew; no matter,"said the bailiff, addressing his wife, "I will run down to the rockswith the people of the farm, and try to save some of them, poorcreatures!--Light large fires in several rooms--get ready linen,clothes, cordials--I scarcely dare hope to save any, but we must do ourbest. Will you come with me, M. Rodin?"

  "I should think it a duty, if I could be at all useful, but I am tooold and feeble to be of any service," said M. Rodin, who was by no meansanxious to encounter the storm. "Your good lady will be kind enough toshow me the Green Chamber, and when I have found the articles I require,I will set out immediately for Paris, for I am in great haste."

  "Very well, sir. Catherine will show you. Ring the big bell," said thebailiff to his servant; "let all the people of the farm meet me at thefoot of the cliff, with ropes and levers."

  "Yes, my dear," replied Catherine; "but do not expose yourself."

  "Kiss me--it will bring me luck," said the bailiff; and he started at afull run, crying: "Quick! quick; by this time not a plank may remain ofthe vessels."

  "My dear madam," said Rodin, always impassible, "will you be obligingenough to show me the Green Chamber?"

  "Please to follow me, sir," answered Catherine, drying her tears--forshe trembled on account of her husband, whose courage she well knew.