The door opened at last, and a man clad in a goatskin jacket, like the Swiss shepherds, came out and gazed stupidly at the three young men.
"Oh! mon Dieu! what in heaven’s name is that?" exclaimed Robineau, stepping behind his companions; "it’s either an orang-outang or a counterfeiter!"
The peasant, after contemplating the young men in silence, pointed to the doorway of his hovel, saying:
"Will you come into our house, messieurs?"
"With pleasure," said Alfred; and he walked in, followed by Edouard; whereupon Robineau, who had no desire to be left alone, was obliged also to enter the shepherd’s abode.
The interior was larger than one would have supposed from the outside. The roughly built structure was cone-shaped, and received light from above. The ground floor was divided into two parts; but the partition, made of rough planks not fastened together, seemed intended rather to support the walls and prevent their falling in upon the inmates, than to keep them apart.
There was a fire in one corner of the first room; a huge earthenware kettle was set upon some crackling twigs; a woman of some forty years, seated, or rather crouching, in front of the fire, was stirring the contents of the kettle with a wooden spoon, and by her side knelt three tall, sturdy boys, gazing at what was on the fire. Farther on, an old man, still hale and hearty, sat upon a bunch of straw, patting an old he-goat that lay on the floor beside him. This picture was lighted but dimly by a lamp standing on a small wooden table, because the smoke from the fire formed dense clouds which emerged very slowly through the vent in the roof.
The three travellers, having entered the hovel, stopped to examine the curious scene before their eyes. The occupants scrutinized them in their turn, but with a sort of stupid amazement, and without moving.
"This is very original!" said Alfred to his friends.
"It is very ugly!" said Robineau.