Volume 14 / Part 2 — II A COW

Not long after this day of visits, on one of those lovely mornings which invite one to wander about the country, the heat not being sufficient as yet to make walking tiresome, the two friends, who had finished breakfast at nine o’clock because they rose at six, took their straw bonnets, threw light silk mantles over their shoulders, and having instructed Poucette not to leave the house, started off in high spirits, saying:

“We will walk in the direction of the Tower.”

Agathe remembered the road, which they had already taken once. On leaving Chelles they crossed the railroad and followed the Gournay road bordered by ditches full of water. That road was short; on turning to the left they soon reached the bank of the Marne at the bridge where there was a toll of one sou for each person. This charge, apparently very trifling, made that part of the country very unfrequented; for the peasant looks a long while before spending a sou—two, in fact, when one is obliged to return; they preferred to take a route which was often much longer, but which did not force them to put their hands into their pockets.

The two friends crossed the bridge; since leaving Chelles they had not met a living soul—not a peasant, not a carter, not an ass. The bridge, which was long and solidly built, was also deserted. Nor was there a sign of life on the Marne—not a boat, not a fisherman was to be seen.

But they had already observed that solitude the first time that they had come in that direction; and now that the aspect of the country was changed, the trees having renewed their foliage, the meadows their verdure, the fields their grasses and flowers, the more solitary the spot, the more inclined they were to admire all the majesty of nature, all the beauties of creation.

“Why, we were misinformed as to having to pay to cross this bridge!” said Agathe; “here we are at the end of it, and I see no one at all. Do you suppose we are to toss the sou into the water; that would be decidedly amusing.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth when a man suddenly appeared in front of her. He came from a house at the left which belonged to a beautiful estate called the Maison Blanche, of which this same man was the concierge; to this function he added that of collector of tolls at the bridge.

“Monsieur,” said Honorine, after paying her two sous, “which road must we take to go to the estate called the Tower?”

“Pass through the village of Gournay, straight ahead, then turn to the left.”

“Is it very far?”

“It’s close by. The village of Gournay’s so small that it don’t take long to walk through it; then you take the road to Noisy-le-Grand.”

The two young women walked on, and soon found themselves in the village square, where there was a pretty bourgeois house embellished with the name of the Château Vert, probably because of the color of its blinds.

Next to it was a dealer in wines, the only one in the district; which fact spoke well for the sobriety of the people.

Opposite was a little church and beside that a small cemetery. The toll-gatherer was right: everything was diminutive in that place, which had less than a hundred and thirty inhabitants.

The little square was shaded by noble trees which gave it a charm of its own. Trees are not proud; they grow as well in a small village as on the fashionable promenade of a city; ordinarily indeed they are finer in the village; everything has its compensations.

Our travellers found some children on the square, who pointed out the road to Noisy-le-Grand. As they walked in that direction the country became more picturesque, less monotonous, and the ladies soon spied, on a slight eminence, a very pretty house, flanked by a graceful turret which overlooked the whole country.

“That is where Paul and his dog live!” cried Agathe.

“Hush, child!” said Honorine; “if that gentleman should happen to be passing, and should hear you speak of him in that way, what would he think of us?”

“Why, my dear love, I am simply repeating what they say at Chelles; how do you want me to speak of him, since nobody knows him by any other name? No matter, this estate of his makes a very fine appearance; it’s like a château. Let us walk along this road—it will bring us nearer.”

As she spoke Agathe ran ahead. Honorine followed her, but more slowly. They were then on rather a narrow road, shaded on one side by walnut trees, and intersected by numerous paths.

Suddenly Agathe heard a shriek; recognizing her friend’s voice, she turned and saw, about a hundred yards behind her, a cow coming from one of the paths, at full speed, and rushing straight at Honorine, who had an excessive fear of cows and dared not advance or retreat; she simply stood where she was and shrieked.

Agathe instantly ran back, to try to protect her friend; but she was too far away to reach her in advance of the cow, and the animal was within a few feet of Honorine, when suddenly an enormous dog, rushing down from a hill near by, arrived on the scene and jumped in front of the cow, barking furiously as if to forbid her to take another step. Ami’s frantic barking—for it was Ami who had come to their assistance—did in fact terrify the cow; she stopped, turned tail and retreated by the path by which she had come.

“Oh! thanks! thanks! good dog!” cried Agathe, who had been terribly frightened for her friend, and who came up at that moment. But Honorine’s fright had been so great that it had deprived her of consciousness; she had fallen to the ground in a swoon.

“Oh! mon Dieu! she is unconscious! Honorine! dear love! come to yourself! the danger is all over. She doesn’t hear me—she doesn’t open her eyes! And no one near! How can I obtain help here?”

Ami walked about the unconscious woman, then gazed at Agathe, who was in dire distress; he seemed to be trying to read in her eyes what she wanted of him. Suddenly he bounded away and disappeared.

The girl knelt beside her companion, raised her head and rested it against her breast, took her hands and called her name. But Honorine did not recover consciousness, and Agathe, in despair, cast her eyes over the deserted fields, crying:

“Mon Dieu! no one will come to our help!”

At that moment a small boy, poorly clad, with bare feet and hair waving in the wind, appeared on a piece of rising ground from which he could see the path.

Agathe saw him and called to him:

“Go and bring us some water, I beg you, my friend; call someone to come and help me take care of my friend.”

The boy’s only reply was a sneering laugh; then he went away, leaping in the air and crying:

“They’re afraid of the cow! that’s good! I’ll throw stones at the cow again and make her run at folks.”

The small boy disappeared, but the girl’s wishes had been understood by Ami; he ran where he knew that he would find his master, and by pulling persistently at his jacket made him understand that it was urgently necessary that he should go with him.

When Agathe was beginning to lose hope she saw the noble beast returning toward her, while his eyes seemed to say:

“Help is coming!”

And his master was soon by his side.

“Oh! monsieur—I beg you—my dear friend has fainted!” cried Agathe.

Paul had already taken a phial from his pocket, and he held it to Honorine’s nose, saying to the girl:

“It’s nothing; don’t be alarmed; your friend will come to herself in a moment. What was the cause of this accident?”

“Fright; a cow came running straight toward my friend, who is terribly afraid of them; and but for your good dog, who ran up and drove the cow away, she would certainly have been wounded.”

“See, she is coming to herself.”

Honorine opened her eyes at that moment. The first person she saw was Agathe, who was leaning over her and gazing anxiously into her face. The young woman smiled as she muttered:

“I am an awful coward, am I not? But it isn’t my fault; I was so frightened that——”

Honorine interrupted herself, for she had caught sight of Ami’s master, who was standing a few steps away, regarding her attentively; he still held in his hand the little phial he had used to restore her to consciousness.

It was an easy matter for the two ladies to examine at their ease the individual of whom they had heard so much; and the result of their examination was not unfavorable to him; for although, when seen at a distance, his bushy beard gave him a somewhat forbidding aspect, on looking at him nearer at hand and at leisure, one saw that his features were handsome and distinguished, that his eyes were not always fierce, that his expression was neither threatening nor calculated to inspire alarm.

Agathe, divining her friend’s amazement, made haste to say:

“This gentleman came to my assistance, for you didn’t come to yourself—I did not know what to do—oh! I was very unhappy!”

“But that cow that was running at me—how did I escape being hurt?”

“Because this good old dog here ran up to defend you, threw himself in front of her and barked and jumped at her nose! Oh! it was magnificent! And then, after putting the cow to flight, he ran to fetch his master to help me bring you to yourself.—Oh! how fine that was, Ami! Come, come here and let me embrace you!”

The girl put her arms about the dog’s neck and patted and caressed him; he submitted with a very good grace, wagging his tail, and looking at his master from time to time, as if to inform him that he already knew the two ladies.

Honorine rose and bowed gracefully to the owner of the Tower, saying:

“Pray accept all my thanks, monsieur, and excuse me for having disturbed you in your walk.”

“You owe me no thanks, madame; it is a duty to make oneself of use when one has the opportunity. You do not need this phial any more?”

“No, monsieur, I feel much better; but—this is very strange—I don’t know whether it is the result of my fright, but I seem to have no legs, they give way under me; I feel as if I were going to fall.”

“Well! that would be nice!” cried Agathe, doing her utmost to support her companion. “What are we to do if you can’t walk? There are no cabs or omnibuses here, and we are quite a long way from home.”

Ami’s master, who, after offering his flask, had started to walk away, stopped when he discovered the embarrassment of the two friends. He realized that they still needed him, but it was evident that he hesitated, that it was hard for him not to be guided by his ordinary instinct of aloofness. But Agathe, without speaking, looked at him with an almost imploring expression, and her eyes expressed her thought so fully that Paul walked back toward them, murmuring:

“If I can be of any further use to you—take my arm, madame; lean on it without fear, and I will help you to walk.”

“Oh! you are too kind, monsieur! I am afraid of abusing——”

“No, no, take monsieur’s arm, since he is kind enough to offer it,” cried Agathe; “for if you had only mine to support you, we might both fall by the way; it is a long way from here to Chelles.”

Honorine decided to put her arm through the arm which their new acquaintance offered her. Agathe supported her friend on the other side, and they started.

“Where were you ladies going when the cow frightened you?”

“We will return to Chelles, monsieur, if you please. When we came out this morning, we had no definite destination; we just set out for a walk.—That is to say,” continued Agathe, “we came this way in order to see the estate of the Tower, of which we have heard a great deal since we came to Chelles.”

Honorine nudged her friend, to bid her keep silent, but Agathe paid no heed.

“We had just caught sight of it as we turned into that road; and as it seemed to us very pretty at a distance, we were going nearer in order to see it at closer quarters. We did not expect to make the acquaintance of its owner,—for monsieur is the owner of the Tower, I believe?”

“Yes, mademoiselle,” replied Ami’s master curtly, while Honorine nudged her friend again to make her keep silent; but she continued to pay no heed to the admonition.

“Oh! I recognized monsieur at once; we met him one day when we were looking for a certain field. It was then that your dog came to me and made advances. He doesn’t do that to everybody, does he, monsieur?”

“Assuredly not, mademoiselle. He is not lavish of his friendship! And he has one great advantage over men, in that he never gives it except to those who deserve it.”

“Then I ought to be proud of his friendship for me. Oh! you splendid dog! you good old dog! Look, Honorine; see how he walks around us, and how pleased he looks!”

It was a fact that Ami kept circling about the three persons who were walking along arm-in-arm. Sometimes he darted ahead, but he very soon returned, looked up in his master’s face with a joyous yelp or two, then made the circuit of the little group anew, as if to make sure that they had not separated.

This pantomime on Ami’s part did not escape his master, whose face, which wore an expression of annoyance when he first offered his arm to Honorine, began to be less severe.

Honorine, who still felt very weak, was forced to lean heavily on the arm of her escort, and she apologized therefor:

“I beg pardon, monsieur,” she murmured; “I am tiring you, I am obliged to lean so heavily on you. But I am not very strong, and the slightest shock is enough to make me ill.”

“Lean on me, madame; it does not tire me in the least.”

“We have had bad luck for our first walk; do you often meet cows alone in the fields?”

“Very rarely, madame; and I am much surprised that that cow, which probably belongs to a good woman who lives near me, should have escaped and attacked you, for I know that she is not vicious; she must herself have been attacked or irritated by some one, to behave so.”

“Oh! wait, monsieur,” cried Agathe; “I remember now; while my dear friend was unconscious, and I was looking all about and calling for help, a little boy seven or eight years old appeared on a mound near by; he stared at me and laughed, and when I asked him to go for help, he laughed louder and sneered at me and made faces; then he ran away, jumping about and crying:

“‘That’s good! I like that!’ ”

“All is explained then, madame; that little boy probably played some cruel trick on the cow, which thereupon fled from the pasture where she was peacefully grazing.”

“Oh! that was very naughty of the little fellow!”

“Mon Dieu!” said Honorine, “I wonder if it was the child whom they call at Chelles the lost child?”

“Yes, madame, it was he undoubtedly. I saw him prowling about in the direction of Noisy-le-Grand. I am not surprised to find that he has been up to some mischief.”

“Why, in that case, the boy must be naturally perverse,” said Agathe; “is there no way of reforming him?”

“I have tried, without success; he defies punishment, he is insensible to entreaties; he has a most intractable disposition. If age and common sense do not change him, he will be a detestable man.”

While conversing thus they had reached Chelles, and as they entered the village they met Monsieur and Madame Droguet, accompanied by Monsieur Luminot and Doctor Antoine, who were going for a walk in the country. When she espied the new sojourners at Chelles arm-in-arm with the owner of the Tower, Madame Droguet nearly fell backward; she stepped on the feet of Monsieur Luminot, her escort, saying:

“Great heaven! just look! what does this mean?”

On his side the former dealer in wines dug his elbow into Monsieur Droguet’s ribs.

“On my word!” he exclaimed; “will you look! this is surprising!”

Thereupon Monsieur Droguet, always ready to dance, made a pirouette which brought him nose to nose with the doctor, crying:

“What is it that’s so surprising? what’s the matter? why did Luminot say that?”

As for the doctor, having no one to attack, he contented himself with bowing to Honorine and Agathe, although his face betrayed the surprise he felt at meeting them in the company of Paul and his dog.

Monsieur Luminot also bowed. Père Droguet was on the point of following their example, but his wife suddenly caught his arm.

“Well, monsieur, what are you going to do?” she demanded; “can you think of such a thing as bowing to people who have never been to call on me since they have lived in the neighborhood? It’s very uncivil of them! I have a very poor opinion of those women; and they’re hardly settled here before they go about with that ill-licked cub, that Monsieur Paul who also has treated us all very rudely! That was all that was necessary to confirm my opinion concerning those women. Let us go on, messieurs; forward, march! You see, that wretched fellow didn’t even bow to us.”

“The ladies bowed,” said Monsieur Luminot.

“Because you bowed first; it would have been very pretty if they hadn’t returned your bow! Come, Monsieur Luminot, let us go on, I beg; do you propose to remain in admiring contemplation before the skirts of those ladies?”

And Madame Droguet, having given her husband a push to make him go forward, dragged Monsieur Luminot and the doctor away, and almost made them run.

“Oh! what a strange woman!” cried Agathe with a laugh; “what eyes she made at us! Did you see, Honorine? One would say she wanted to turn us to stone.”

“Doubtless that is Madame Droguet, whom Doctor Antoine has often mentioned to us.”

“And that little slim man who stands on one leg when he looks at you is probably her husband.”

When the ladies reached their house, Honorine took her arm from her escort’s, saying:

“This is our modest abode; would you not like to come in a moment and rest, monsieur? I must have fatigued you terribly.”

“I thank you, madame,” Paul replied, bowing, “but I will continue my walk.”

“Oh! do come in a moment, monsieur,” said Agathe; “see, your good dog seems to invite you; he has already gone in.”

Paul’s only reply was to call his dog which quickly returned to his side; then he hurried away, after saluting the ladies.

“What a strange man!” murmured Honorine.

“All the same, my dear love, we were very lucky to meet him; and he doesn’t frighten me at all now. Do you still think that he has a terrifying look?”

“No, oh, no! but he went away very abruptly.”