The Bagpipers

by George Sand

Taking Brulette round the neck with her beautiful bare arm, well browned by the sun, she led her away without giving her time to take Charlot, whom she herself caught up like a bundle under her other arm, although he was now as heavy as a little calf.

The fief of Chassin was once a castle, as I have heard say, with seignorial rights and laws; but at the time of which I am telling, nothing remained of the building but the porch, which was a structure of some importance, heavily built, and so arranged that there were lodging-rooms on both sides of it. It seemed that the part of the building which I have called a porch, the use of which is difficult to explain at the present time (on account of its peculiar construction), was really a vaulted chamber leading to other buildings; for as to those that still remain around the courtyard, which are only miserable stables and dilapidated barns, I don't know what uses they could have been put to, or what comfort could have been found in them. There were still, at the time of which I am speaking, three or four unfurnished rooms which seemed quite ancient, but if any great lord ever took his pleasure in them he must have wanted very little of that article.

And yet it was among these ruins that happiness was awaiting some of those whose history I am telling you; and, as if there were something within each human being which tells him in advance of coming blessings, neither Brulette nor I saw anything sad or ugly in this old place. The grassy courtyard, surrounded on two sides by the ruins and on the other two by the moat and the little wood through which we passed; the great hedge, where I saw with surprise shrubs which are seen only in the gardens of the wealthy (showing that the place had once known care and beauty); the clumsy gateway, choked up with rubbish, where stone benches could still be seen, as if in former days some warder had had charge of this barrack then considered precious; the long brambles which ran from end to end of this squalid enclosure,—all these things, which made the whole place resemble a prison, closed, deserted, and forgotten, seemed as cheerful to our eyes as the springtide sun which was forcing its way in through the crevices and drying up the dampness. Perhaps, too, the sight of our old acquaintance, the clairin, who was feeding on the turf, gave us warning of the coming of a true friend. I think he recognized us, for he came up to be stroked, and Brulette could not refrain from kissing the white star on his forehead.

"This is my château," said Thérence, taking us into a room where her bed and other bits of furniture were already installed; "and there you see Huriel's room and my father's on the other side."

"Your father! then he is coming!" I cried, jumping for joy. "I am so glad, for there is no man under the sun I like better."

"And right you are," said Thérence, tapping my ear in sign of friendship. "And he likes you. Well, you will see him if you come back next week, and even—but it is too soon to speak of that. Here is the master."

Brulette blushed, thinking it was Huriel that Thérence meant; but it was only the foreign dealer who had bought the timber of the forest of Chassin.

I say "forest" because, no doubt, there were forests there once, which joined the small but beautiful growth of lofty trees that we saw beyond the river. As the name remains, it is to be supposed it was not bestowed for nothing. The conversation which ensued between Thérence and the wood-merchant explained to us very quickly the whole thing. He came from the Bourbonnais, and had long known the Head-Woodsman and his family as hard-working people who kept their word. Being in quest, through his business, of some tall masts for the king's navy, he had discovered these remains of a virgin forest (very rare indeed in our country), and had given the work of felling and trimming the trees to Père Bastien; and the latter had taken it all the more willingly because his son and daughter, knowing the place to be in our neighborhood, were delighted with the idea of spending the whole summer and perhaps part of the winter near us.

The Head-Woodsman was allowed the selection and management of his workmen under a contract with forfeiture between himself and the purchaser of the timber; and the latter had induced the owner of the estate to cede him the use, gratis, of the old castle, where he, a well-to-do tradesman, would have thought himself very ill-lodged, but where a family of wood-cutters might be far better off as the season grew late than in their usual lodges of logs and heather.

Huriel and his sister had arrived that morning; the one had immediately begun to install herself, the other had been making acquaintance with the wood, the land, and the people of the neighborhood.