"‘Nothing so lovely as the true,
The true alone is lovable.’"
"The pleasantest thing," said Robineau, seizing a bowl of milk; "would be to have arrived at our destination.—I say, Monsieur l’Auvergnat, do you know the estate of La Roche-Noire in this neighborhood?"
The peasant whom Robineau addressed reflected a moment, then replied:
"Oh, yes! monsieur—La Roche-Noire—I know it well——"
"He knows it!" cried Robineau; and in an ecstasy of delight he threw his arms in the air and dashed into Alfred’s face almost all the milk contained in the cup he held in his hand.
"The devil take you and your château!" cried Alfred, rising from the table to take off his cravat, which was drenched with milk, while Edouard roared with laughter.
"Oh! I beg your pardon, my dear fellow!" said Robineau; "but really I was beginning to be anxious about my château! This excellent man has restored me to life."
"Were you afraid that your house had flown away?"
"I’ll give you another cravat, Alfred.—Tell me, worthy villager, who knows La Roche-Noire, is it a fine estate?"
"Oh, yes! it’s very large, monsieur! It’s a sort of château, as they say, and it’s got some big towers. They say that in old times they used to fight there, and it was besieged."