Nothing more was said. When they had eaten in silence their bread and sheep’s-milk cheese, and drunk a cup of sour wine made from the wild grape, they rose.
The shepherd threw his cloak over his arm, took his staff from a corner, and having doffed his broad-brimmed hat before an old image of the Nativity, that hung on the wall, embellished with a branch laden with cocoons, and beneath which, on a carved oak stand, stood a little lamp, long unlighted, he went slowly from the room.
When Renaud, mounted upon Prince and leading Blanchet, left the Ménage, he rode some time with the shepherds, by the side of the enormous flock on their way to the Alps, where they were to pass the summer season.
Two thousand sheep, led by the rams, and arranged in battalions and companies, under the care of several shepherds of whom old Sigaud was the chief, were trotting along the road with hanging heads, making with their eight thousand feet a dull, smothered pattering, as of falling hailstones, in the dense clouds of dust. The Labry dogs ran to and fro along the edges of the flock, full of business, but frequently turning their eyes toward their master.
A few asses scattered among the different companies bore upon their backs, jolting about in double wicker-baskets, the sleepy, bleating lambs.
Old Sigaud was in high feather, thinking of the cool, fresh air of the Alps, where the grass is green and the water pure, and where he could gaze in peace every night at Cassiopeia’s Chair and the Three Kings and the Pleiades in the heavens studded with myriads of stars.
“Adieu, Sigaud,” said Renaud, drawing rein when the time came for him to part from the flock and its guardians.
Sigaud also stopped in front of him.
“Adieu, Renaud,” said he gravely. “There must be a woman at the bottom of your trouble. You are too sad. But we called you King to do honor to your courage, you mustn’t forget that. Remember, too, that everything is of some use, my boy, and that good may come out of evil. It takes all kinds to make the world!”
Renaud found Livette sitting on the stone bench in front of the door of the château. He had not leaped down from Prince before she was covering Blanchet with kisses. Audiffret was very glad to learn that the stolen horse had returned to the drove, but when Renaud explained that he had come, on this occasion, to return Blanchet, Livette showed some feeling.