"You are welcome, my friend," said the Counsellor of Parliament, "as well as the other gentlemen; you shall have a fire to warm and dry yourselves, and you will do well to remain here this evening, for the storm will certainly last until night, as is usually the case in this neighbourhood."
Frantz and another domestic had already lighted a fire in the large chimney, and the strangers approached the friendly flames in order to dry their garments, while the vicar begged the servant to take care of his nag.
The other two strangers had made their request and testified their respect for the Counsellor of Parliament only by a silent bow, during which the little fair girl took advantage of the momentary confusion, to approach the guests and examine them with curiosity. One of these appeared to be a huntsman, for he wore a green dress and carried a couteau-de-chasse and a rifle, the latter, which was loaded, he very carefully placed on the mantel-piece. During these various proceedings, Eveline had already in her way formed an acquaintance with the third stranger, who seemed to be her favorite, for she gave him her handkerchief to wipe the rain from his face, and offered him some fruit, which he smilingly declined, and after looking at him for some time, she said, "Where have you left your hat?" "The storm without has carried it off from me," said the young stranger, "and blew it far, far away, so that I could not catch it again."
"It must have been drole enough," said Eveline, laughing, "you after the hat, the storm after you, and the rain after the storm, you could not overtake your hat, but the rain and storm overtook you."
The Lord of Beauvais drew near, and said, "You entertain this stranger already?" "Does he not look good and kind;" exclaimed the child, "just like the schoolmaster in the village, who teaches me to read, but who is obliged to limp already with his young, thin legs."
"Behave politely, my child," said the Counsellor kindly, and he put aside her fair locks from her forehead. He examined his guest while he was paying the usual compliments. The young stranger appeared to be about sixteen, or seventeen years of age, he was something below the middle height, his figure was delicately formed, but as the child had said, the expression of his countenance was amiability itself. A slight tinge of red coloured his thin cheeks; his eyes were of the lightest blue, and had acquired by a mark on the right eye-lid, a very peculiar expression; short, fair hair lay thick and smooth, over his dazzlingly pure white forehead: his voice had something effeminate in it from its high pitch, and from his whole bearing and bashfulness of manner, one might have easily taken him for a maiden in disguise.
"I came over to day from Pont-du-gard, and intended to proceed to Montpellier, when this storm overtook me fortunately just in front of your door, my Lord Counsellor," said the vicar approaching again. "I must confess, I should not have thought, that there could be such a building as this aqueduct, if my own eyes had not convinced me of it. I doubt that the Coloseum at Rome, or the stupendous church of St. Peter could have produced so great an impression on my mind, as these majestic, vaulted arches, and these pillars one over the other, which so boldly and so easily unite two distant mountains."
"Whoever has not yet seen this work of antiquity," said the Counsellor, "may well consider every report of it exaggerated, and, perhaps, reverend sir, you will not believe either, that it encreases in grandeur the oftener one looks at it; the eye cannot familiarize itself with its magnificence, although its first sight is so highly satisfactory, and in this contemplation of the sublime, the most pleasing emotions take possession of us. Thus must it ever be with all that is truly great," "Those heathenish Romans," said the priest, "have done much in this respect, they must ever be our teachers; but on my way here, before the commencement of the storm, I heard a great deal of firing."
"The Camisards and the royal troops are at it again," said the huntsman. "But to day, it is said, that the Huguenots have entirely lost the game." "How so?" demanded the Counsellor.
"I heard on the other side of the water,--thank God, that I am on this!--that they had taken prisoner Catinat and Cavalier, and therefore it is probably all over with the war. What a pity, say I, if they massacre Cavalier, as they have so many others."