V
THE DRIBE
The slopes crowned by Châteaubrun were so steep that the young man and his new guide were delayed by no torrent of any size and soon reached the valley. But as they rode rapidly by a small pond full to the brim, the boy exclaimed, with a glance of amazement: "The Font-Margot full! That means a lot of damage in the low lands. We shall have trouble crossing the river. Let's hurry, monsieur!"—He urged the mare to a gallop; and despite her ungainly build and her broad, flat feet embellished with a fringe of long hair that trailed on the ground, she picked her way over the uneven ground with remarkable skill and sureness of foot.
The extensive plains of this region form great plateaus broken by ravines, which, with their abrupt and deep declivities, make veritable mountains to ascend and descend. After riding about an hour, our travellers found themselves opposite the valley of Gargilesse, and a fascinating landscape was spread out before them. The village of Gargilesse, built like a sugar-loaf on a steep knoll, and overlooked by its pretty church and its ancient monastery, seemed to rise from the depths of the precipices; and the boy pointed out to Emile a number of enormous buildings, entirely new and of fine appearance, at the bottom of the steepest of those precipices, saying:
"Look, monsieur, there are Monsieur Cardonnet's buildings."
It was the first time that Emile, who was a law-student at Poitiers and passed his vacations at Paris, had visited the region where his father had been engaged for a year past in an important undertaking. The natural aspect of the spot seemed to him beautiful, and he was grateful to his parents for having happened upon a location where industry could flourish without banishing the influences of poesy.
They had still some distance to ride across the plateau before reaching the slope, where all the details of the landscape could be embraced in a single glance. As Emile approached the edge he discovered new beauties, and the convent-château of Gargilesse, planted proudly on the rock over the Cardonnet factories, seemed a decoration placed there designedly to crown the whole picture. The sides of the ravine, into which the little stream flowed swiftly, were covered with hardy vegetation, and the young man, who involuntarily allowed his attention to be absorbed by the external aspect of his new inheritance, observed with satisfaction that, amid the clearing away that had to be done to install the establishment in such a thickly-wooded spot, they had spared some magnificent old trees, which were the noblest ornament of the dwelling-house.
This house, situated a little behind the factory, was convenient, tasteful, simple in its richness, and the fact that there were curtains at almost all the windows indicated that it was already occupied. It was surrounded by a fine garden, terraced along the stream, and from afar he could distinguish the bright colors of the blooming plants which had been substituted as if by enchantment for the willow stumps and pools of stagnant water with which the banks were formerly bordered. The young man's heart beat fast when he saw a woman descend the steps of this modern château and walk slowly among her favorite flowers; for it was his mother. He threw up his arms and waved his cap to attract her attention, but without success. Madame Cardonnet was intent upon examining her horticultural pets; she did not expect her son until evening.
On a more open space Emile saw the complicated, scientifically-constructed buildings of the factory; and fifty or more busy workmen moving amid the medley of materials of all sorts—some cutting stone, others preparing the mortar, others trimming rafters, others loading carts drawn by enormous horses. As it was absolutely necessary to descend the steep road at a foot-pace, little Charasson found opportunity to speak.
"This is a bad place, isn't it, monsieur? Keep a tight rein on your horse! It would be a good thing if Monsieur Cardonnet would build a road to take people from our house to his factory. See what fine roads he's built in other directions! and the pretty bridges! all of stone, you see! Before he came you had to wet your feet crossing the river in summer, and in winter you didn't cross at all. He's the kind of man that everybody ought to kiss the ground he walks on."