XII.
The Sunday after the last day of the harvest, M. le Marquis invited all the boys up to the château, where a magnificent banquet was prepared, and they were expected to remain until the evening. He ordered a splendid repast, and music besides; the principal barn, which ordinarily was crammed full at this season, but that, owing to the bad season, was comparatively empty, was decorated for the occasion. Our master desired that nothing should be spared to make the fête a great success. All the fine linen of the château—and the closets were heaping-full of it—the china, and silver were put into requisition, so that there never was given a more superb banquet to great personages than to our delighted villagers. As for the fricassée, it is remembered to this day; it was composed, to commence with, of a dozen kinds of poultry, so well disguised under different sauces that one ate chicken in confidence as chicken, because it was so written on little strips of paper laid beside each plate, but without being positive that it was not turkey or pigeon; and every one agreed in acknowledging that such a delicious compound had never passed down country throats, and that the wines, if possible, surpassed the eating; so that the good fellows commenced to be merry and perfectly happy when the roast appeared.
Of this roast I will say a word before passing to other things, for I fancy you have seldom seen it equalled. With all respect, imagine a huge hog, weighing at least a hundred pounds, roasted whole, beautifully gilded, and trimmed with ribbons, and reposing so quietly on a plank covered with water-cresses you would have thought him asleep.
It was really a curious and most appetizing sight, and sufficiently rare to be remarked; but see how stupid some people are! On seeing this superb dish, whose delicious perfume would have brought the dead back to life—that is to say, if they were hungry—some of the fellows said that M. le Marquis might have better chosen another roast, as pork was something they ate all through the year. Whereupon Master Ruinard, the head-cook of the château, made a good-natured grimace, and apostrophized them as a heap of fools, but without any other sign of displeasure; and then seizing his big knife, that he sharpened with a knowing air, he cut the animal open, and out tumbled snipe, woodcock, rennets, and partridges, done to a turn, and of which each one had his good share. As for the hog, no one touched it, which proved two things—first, that you must not speak too soon; secondly, that when a great lord gives an entertainment, it is always sure to be remarkably fine.
At the dessert, which was abundant in pastry, ice-cream, and fresh and dried fruits, they served a delicate wine, the color of old straw, the name of which I don't know exactly, but which was sweet and not at all disagreeable. At this time, M. le Marquis, accompanied by mademoiselle, Dame Berthe, and Jeannette, entered and mingled with the guests, who rose and bowed low. Our good master thanked the young men for the great service they had rendered him; and as he could not drink with each one, he touched his glass to that of Jean-Louis, saying it was to the health of all the commune. They cried, "Long live M. le Marquis!" until the roof shook; and as their heads were as heated as the boilers at the big yearly wash, they whispered among themselves that it would be well to carry Jean-Louis again in triumph, as much to please the master as to render justice to him who was the cause of all this festivity.
Now, our Jean-Louis was the only one who remained composed after all this eating and drinking. He had eaten with good appetite, and fully quenched his thirst, but not one mouthful more than was necessary. He heard all that was said without appearing to listen; and when others might have felt vain, he was displeased; he therefore watched his chance, slid under the table, and, working his way like an eel between the legs of his comrades, who were too busily occupied to notice him, in three seconds was out of the door, running for dear life, for fear of being caught.
He was delighted to breathe the fresh air, and did not slacken his pace until he had gone a good quarter of a league, and was near Muiceron. Then he stopped to take breath, laughing aloud at the good trick he had played.
"Thank goodness!" thought he, "I have at last escaped. They can run as fast as they choose now; there is no chance of catching up with me. What would M. le Marquis and the family have thought to have seen me hoisted up on the shoulders of those half-tipsy fellows, and paraded around the court, like a learned beast on a fair-ground? Not knowing that I had come to the château only to oblige the master, who had besides given me a valuable watch, it would have looked as though I wished to receive in vain applause what I refused in money. None of that, none of that for me; there is enough nonsense going on, without my mixing myself up in it. They can drink and dance until sunrise to-morrow, if they so please, it is all the same to me; and I will go home to bed, after having told all to my dear mother, who will not fail to approve of my conduct, and laugh heartily at my escape."
As he said this to himself, he entered the wood, of which we have already spoken, that skirts La Range and throws its shade nearly to the fir-trees which surround Muiceron. It was such a delightful spot, either by night or day, that it was difficult to pass through it without feeling a disposition to loiter and meditate, particularly for such a dreamer as Jean-Louis. After all, now that he was safe, there was nothing to hurry him home for at least half an hour. He therefore put his hands in his pockets, and strolled along, resting both mind and body in a dreamy reverie for the benefit of the one, and walking slowly to the great good of the other.
Really, the evening was delicious. The great heat of the day had been succeeded by a fresh breeze, which, passing over the orchards around, brought into the wood the sweet odor of young fruit, mingled with that of the foliage and bark of the trees, damp with the August sap. The hum of insects was heard, and not far off the joyous murmur of the stream leaping over the stones. As the ground had been thoroughly soaked for several weeks past, quantities of wild flowers strewed the soil, and added to the balmy air a taste of spring, entirely out of season. You surely must have felt, at some time or other, how such nights and such scenes enervate the brain. The will cannot resist the bewitching influence; insensibly we become dreamers, and feel a strong desire to converse with the stars. August nights especially are irresistible, and I imagine no one, unless somebody depraved by wicked deeds and thoughts, or a born idiot, can fail to understand and acknowledge the effect.