They drew near the shore of the lake on which the village was built. The peasants sat in front of their cottages; there were old women spinning, young women sewing, and children playing and rolling about on the ground.
"They are a little dark," said Alfred as he scrutinized the young women; "however they are not bad-looking—bright eyes and white teeth; their method of arranging their hair is original; and with the little straw hats, set back and tied under the chin, one would almost take them for Englishwomen.—Come, messieurs, let us go on; I fancy that there are no inns in this place, so that we must ask hospitality at the hands of these good people, like the chevaliers of old; with this difference, that we will pay for what we consume—which is less chivalrous, perhaps, but which seems to me more natural."
They entered one of the most pretentious cottages; the inmates gazed at the three young men with an expression of curiosity blended with kindliness and good humor.
"Can you give us something to eat?" inquired Alfred; "to be well paid for, of course."
"Oh, yes! messieurs, right away; and even if you shouldn’t pay, it would be all the same."
"You see, messieurs," said Edouard, "that hospitality is not a lost art; these good people do not know us, yet they would entertain us gratis!"
"Oh! that’s because they see that we will pay," said Robineau.
"Don’t you believe in the virtues of the ancient patriarchs, pray, Monsieur Jules?"
"I will believe in whatever you please when I have seen my château, messieurs!" said Robineau.—"Where are we, my good people, if you please?"
"At Ayda, monsieur."