"I am not sorry for that! Let us walk faster, I beg you. This road should take us to Chadrat, and thence, if God please, we will go to La Roche-Noire."
The three travellers waved their hands to the people of the village and resumed their journey, Alfred practising the step of the bourrée, Edouard reading over his verses, and Robineau looking at his watch every instant.
VIII
THE WHITE HOUSE
They had been walking for a considerable time through the mountains when they descried a small village in the distance. It was growing dark; Alfred was obliged to cease dancing, because he was in danger of stepping into some hole; Edouard could read no longer, and Robineau could not see the time by his watch. It soon became impossible to see even the village toward which they were walking, whereupon Robineau wrung his hands in despair. Alfred laughed and Edouard uttered poetry.
"I foresaw what has happened!" said Robineau with a dismal groan. "Here it is dark, and we are in the midst of the mountains, in a region of which we know nothing! At every step we are in danger of falling over some precipice, or at least of plunging down some horribly steep slope! Instead of finding my château, we may be going farther and farther away from it—and that makes you laugh, messieurs! I can’t understand that!"
"Do you want us to weep, Robineau? would that please you? Come, come, O châtelain of La Roche-Noire, recall your high-born courage. When one is about to take up one’s abode in an ancient château, one should possess the heart of a paladin, eh, Edouard?"
Edouard’s only reply was to declaim:
"Tout repose dans l’ombre, et le seul Idamore
Des mues de Bénarès s’échappe avant l’aurore.
Quel est ce bois antique où vos pas m’ont conduit?
Mais j’entrevois un temple, et l’astre de la nuit!"[4]
"You see a temple?" cried Robineau. "Where, in heaven’s name? I can’t see anything at all."
"Ha! ha! ha! Do you mean to say, Robineau, that you don’t recognize Casimir Delavigne’s beautiful verses? Don’t you realize that Edouard is declaiming Le Paria?"