"Oh! if the streams speak to you, they must make some poor joke, Monsieur Edouard!"
"Well, my dear Jules, what say you to those lines?" said Edouard, as he rose and put his tablets in his pocket.
"I say that they are charming, admirable; but I say also that, with your poetry, you will make us pass the night in these mountains, which will not amuse me in the least."
"Would you like me to repeat them to you?"
"No, I want to push on.—And there is Alfred dancing like one possessed!—A young man of his rank, a baron, dancing flicflacs with a buxom Auvergnate!—Alfred! Alfred!"
"One minute! she’s teaching me a bourrée," said Alfred, continuing his dance, and whirling his partner about in his arms.
The dance came to an end at last; Alfred kissed the peasant girl and joined his companions, saying:
"Messieurs, the Auvergnat dance is not light and ethereal, but I assure you that it has its merits. So, my dear Robineau, I promise to dance with all your female vassals."
"Have you finished, messieurs?"
"Yes, we are ready to go with you."