we can sing better than you.I am an artist who plays your favorite air on his violin.Let us open the ball, my darlings."The seven children seemed still uncertain.They were red with excitement, and consulted each other by looks.At last the youngest, a little blond fellow, made up his mind.
"Monsieur HAS ONE CHEVRON TOO MANY," said he to his companions, which being interpreted means: "Monsieur is a little foolish with pride, his head is turned, he is crack-brained, and," added he laughingly, "after all, it's only in fun, and there is a dollar to get."So speaking, he approached Stephane deliberately and gave his boot a loud kiss.The ice was broken; all of his companions followed his example, some with a grave and composed air, others laughing till they showed all their teeth.Stephane clapped his hands in triumph:
"Bravo! my dear friends," exclaimed he."The business went off admirably, charmingly!"Then drawing seven dollars from his purse, he threw them into the road with a scornful gesture:
"Now then, Messrs.Apostles and Seraphim," cried he in a thundering voice, "pick up your money quick, and scamper away as fast as your legs can carry you.Vile brood, go and tell your mothers by what a glorious exploit you won this prize!
And while the children were moving off, he turned towards Gilbert and said, crossing his arms: "Well, my man of the periwinkles, what do you think of it?"Gilbert had witnessed this little scene with mingled sadness and disgust.He would have given much if only one of the children had resisted Stephane's insolent caprice; but not having this satisfaction, he tried to conceal his chagrin as best he could.
"What does it prove?" replied he dryly.
"It seems to me it proves many things, and among others this: that certain emotions are very ridiculous, and that certain mentors of my acquaintance who thrust their lessons upon others--"He said no more, for at this moment a pebble thrown by a vigorous hand whistled by his ears, and rolled his cap in the dust.
Starting, he uttered an angry cry, and striking spurs into his horse, he launched him at a gallop across the bushes.Gilbert picked up the cap, and handed it to Ivan, who said to him in bad German:
"Pardon him; the poor child is sick," and then departed hastily in pursuit of his young master.
Gilbert ran after them.When he had overtaken them, Stephane had dismounted, and stood with clenched fists before a child, who, quite out of breath from running, had thrown himself exhausted at the foot of a tree.In running he had torn many holes in his San-benito, and he was looking with mournful eyes at these rents, and replied only in monosyllables to all of Stephane's threats.
"You are at my mercy," said the young man to him at last."I will forgive you if you ask my pardon on your knees.""I won't do it," replied the child, getting up."I have no pardon to ask.You struck me with your whip, and I swore to pay you for it.I'm a good shot.I sighted your cap and I was sure I'd hit it.That makes you mad, and now we're even.But I'll promise not to throw any more stones, if you'll promise not to strike me with your whip any more.""That is a very reasonable proposition," said Gilbert.
"I don't ask your opinion, sir," interrupted Stephane haughtily,--then turning to Ivan: "Ivan, my dear Ivan," continued he, "in this matter you ought to obey me.You know very well the Count does not love me, but he does not mean to have others insult me: it is a privilege he reserves to himself.Dismount, and make this little rascal kneel to me and ask my pardon."Ivan shook his head.
"You struck him first," answered he; "why should he ask your pardon?"In vain Stephane exhausted supplications and threats.The serf remained inflexible, and during his talk Gilbert approached Wilhelm, and said to him in a low voice:
"Run away quickly, my child; but remember your promise; if you don't, you'll have to settle with me."Stephane, seeing him escape, would have started in pursuit; but Gilbert barred his way.
"Ivan!" cried he, wringing his hands, "drive this man out of my path!"Ivan shook his head again.
"I don't wish to harm the young Frenchman," replied he; "he has a kind way and loves children."Stephane's face was painfully agitated.His lips trembled.He looked with sinister eye first at Ivan, then at Gilbert.At last he said to himself in a stifled voice:
"Wretch that I am! I am as feeble as a worm, and weakness is not respected!"Then lowering his head, he approached his horse, mounted him, and pushed slowly through the copse.When he had regained the wood, looking fixedly at Gilbert:
"Mr.Secretary," said he, "my father often quotes that diplomatist who said that all men have their price; unfortunately I am not rich enough to buy you; you are worth more than a dollar; but permit me to give you some good advice.When you return to the castle, repeat to Count Kostia certain words that I have allowed to escape me to-day.It will give him infinite pleasure.Perhaps he will make you his spy-in-chief, and without asking it, he may double your salary.The most profitable trade in the world is burning candles on the devil's shrine.You will do wonders in it, as well as others."Upon which, with a profound bow to Gilbert, he disappeared at a full trot.
"The devil! the devil! he talks of nothing but the devil!" said Gilbert to himself, taking the road to the castle."My poor friend, you are condemned to pass some years of your life here between a tyrant who is sometimes amiable, and a victim who is never so at all!"
