Chapter XXIII: The Devil's Rock

Emile had forgotten even Constant Galuchet's name when he found himself once more within the walls of the dear old château; and when he went in to salute Monsieur Antoine, the stupid features of his father's clerk produced the same effect upon him that a caterpillar produces upon one who puts out his hand unsuspiciously to pluck a fruit. Galuchet had prepared to greet Emile with the assured air of a man who has taken possession first of a coveted seat, and who can afford an affable greeting to those who come too late. A little more and he would have done the honors of the château to Emile. But the young man's cold and mocking glance, as he replied to his familiar and effusive salutation, disconcerted him sadly; that glance seemed to say to him:

"What are you doing here?"

Meanwhile Galuchet, who thought much more of earning Monsieur Cardonnet's liberality than of winning Gilberte's good graces, made a mighty effort to recover his self-possession, and his face, while not expressing actual hostility, assumed an unaccustomed air of insolence which was, under the circumstances, as injudicious as possible.

Emile had determined to make the best of the native wine, and, in order not to offend Monsieur de Châteaubrun, he did not refuse to drink with him on his arrival. It may be that, by virtue of the utter fascination which took possession of him in the place where Gilberte passed her days, he really considered that thin, sour beverage better than all the choice wines in his father's cellar. But on this occasion it seemed bitter to him, when Galuchet, assuming the air of a man who condescends to howl with the wolves, put out his glass toward his, proposing to touch glasses after the manner of Monsieur de Châteaubrun. He accompanied this familiarity with an unpleasantly vulgar movement of the elbow and shoulder, thinking to imitate in jovial mood Monsieur Antoine's patriarchal simplicity.

"Monsieur le comte," said Emile, ostentatiously treating Antoine with even more respect than usual, "I fear that you have induced Monsieur Constant Galuchet to drink too much. See how red his eyes are and how he stares! Be careful; I warn you that his head is very weak."

"My head weak, Monsieur Emile! why do you say that my head is weak?" retorted Galuchet. "You have never seen me drunk, so far as I know."

"This will be the first time that I shall have had that pleasure, if you continue to drink as you are doing."

"So it would give you pleasure to see me commit an impropriety?"

"I trust that will not happen, if you follow my advice."

"Very good," said Galuchet, rising, "if Monsieur Antoine cares to take a walk, I shall be glad to offer my arm to Mademoiselle Gilberte, and then you can see if I walk crooked."

"I prefer not to risk the experiment," said Gilberte, who was sitting at the door of the pavilion, caressing Monsieur Sacripant.

"So you take sides against me, too, Mademoiselle Gilberte?" rejoined Galuchet, walking toward her; "do you believe what Monsieur Emile says?"

"My daughter takes sides against no one, monsieur," said Janille, "and I don't understand why you bother your head about somebody who doesn't bother her head about you."

"If you forbid her to take my arm," replied Galuchet, "I have nothing to say. It seems to me, however, that it's no breach of true French courtesy to offer a young lady your arm."

"My mother does not forbid me to accept your arm, monsieur," said Gilberte, sweetly but with much dignity; "but I thank you for your courtesy. I am not a Parisian and I can hardly appreciate the custom of taking a support in walking. Besides, our paths do not permit that custom."

"Your paths are no worse than those at Crozant, and the rougher they are the more need there is for people to help one another. I saw you plainly enough at Crozant put your lovely hand on Monsieur Emile's shoulder, to go down the mountain; oh! I saw it, Mademoiselle Gilberte, and I would have liked right well to be in his place!"

"Monsieur Galuchet, if you had not drunk beyond all reason," said Emile, "you would not concern yourself so much about me, and I beg you not to concern yourself about me at all."

"Hoity-toity! now you are losing your temper, are you?" said Galuchet, trying to adopt a good-natured tone. "Everybody is hard on me here, except Monsieur Antoine."

"Perhaps that is because you are a little too familiar with everybody," retorted Emile.

"What's going on here?" said Jean Jappeloup, entering the room. "Are you quarreling? Here am I, to make peace. Good-day, _ma mie_ Janille; good-day, my Gilberte du bon Dieu; good-day, friend Emile; good-day, Antoine, my master: and good-day, you," he said to Galuchet; "I don't know you, but it's all the same. Ah! it's Père Cardonnet's man of business!--Ah! good-day to you, my dear Monsieur Sacripant; I didn't notice your greeting."

"_Vive Dieu_!" cried Antoine, "better late than never; but do you know, Jean, you are going wrong? When we only have one day a week to see you,--and God knows how long the week is without you!--you get here at noon on Sunday!"

"Listen, master----"

"I don't want you to call me master."

"What if I choose to call you so? I was your master long enough, and it would be a bore to me to give orders all the time. Now, I choose to be your apprentice, for a little change. Come, give me something fresh and cool to drink, quickly, Janille. I am warm! Not that I am hungry; they wouldn't let me go after mass, my good friends at Gargilesse! I must needs stop and chatter a little with Mère Laroze, and you can't keep your throat from getting dry when you talk without drinking. But I came fast, because I knew you would be thinking about me here. You see, Gilberte, since I came back to the old place the Sunday would have to be forty-eight hours long to allow me to satisfy all the friends who are glad to see me!"

"Well, my dear Jean, if you are happy, that consoles us a little for seeing you less often," said Gilberte.

"Happy?" rejoined the carpenter; "there's no happier man than I on the face of the earth!"

"That's easy to see," said Janille. "See how he has cheered up since he ceased to be tracked every morning like an old rabbit! And then he shaves every Sunday now, and he has new clothes that look very well on him."

"And who was it who spun the wool for this pretty drugget?" said Jean. "Why, _ma mie_ Janille and the good Lord's child! And who gave the wool? my master's sheep. And who paid the cost? it is paid in friendship here. You don't have coats like this, bourgeois. I wouldn't change my fustian jacket for your black broadcloth swallow-tail."

"I would be satisfied with the spinstress," observed Galuchet, glancing at Gilberte.

"You?" said Jean, good-humoredly bringing his hand down on Galuchet's shoulder with force enough to crush an ox; "you have spinstresses like this one? Why, _ma mie_ Janille is too young for you, my boy; and as for the other, I would kill her if she should spin a bit of wool as long as your nose for you!"

Galuchet was wounded by this allusion to his flat nose, and retorted, rubbing his shoulder:

"Look you, peasant, your manners are _too touching_; joke with your equals, I have nothing to say to you."

"What's this gentleman's name?" Jean asked Monsieur Antoine. "I can't remember his devil of a name."

"Come, come, Jean, you go a little too fast, old fellow," replied Monsieur Antoine. "Don't undertake to tease Monsieur Galuchet; he's a very worthy young man, and, furthermore, he is my guest."

"Well said, master! Let us make peace, Monsieur Maljuché. Will you have a pinch of snuff?"

"I don't use it," replied Galuchet, haughtily. "With Monsieur Antoine's permission, I will leave the table."

"At your pleasure, young man, at your pleasure," said the châtelain. "Monsieur Emile doesn't enjoy long sessions either, and you can stroll about a bit. Janille will show you the château, or, if you prefer to go down to the brook, get your lines ready. We will join you directly, and take you where you will find good sport."

"Oh! yes," said the carpenter, "he's a fisher of small fry! He does nothing else every evening at Gargilesse, and when anyone speaks to him he makes a wry face because it disturbs his fish. Well, we will go directly and help him to catch something better than his small fry. Look you, Monsieur Maljuché, if I don't put you in the way of carrying home a salmon for your supper, I'll agree to change names with you. You don't need to be in such a hurry. The boat should be in good condition, for I nailed a plank in its belly not long ago. We'll find an old harpoon somewhere, and the _Devil's Rock_, where the salmon usually go to take a nap in the sun, isn't far away. But it's a dangerous place, and you must not go alone."

"We will all go," said Gilberte, "if Jean manages the boat. It's very interesting sport, and the place itself is magnificent."

"Oh! if you are coming, Mademoiselle Gilberte, I will await your pleasure," said Galuchet.

"Hear that! wouldn't anyone think she was going on your account, paper-scratcher? This youngster is impertinent beyond everything. Is everybody like that where you come from? Oh! don't put on that indignant expression and look over your shoulder, for it doesn't frighten me much. If you choose to be agreeable, I will be, too; but if, just because you are dressed in black like a notary, you think you can leave the table when I remain, you are much mistaken. Sit down, sit down, Maljuché! I haven't finished drinking, and you are going to drink with me."

"I have had enough," said Galuchet, resisting. "I tell you I have had enough!"

But the carpenter would have broken him in two like a lath rather than let him go. He forced him to sit down again on the bench and swallow several more bumpers, Galuchet striving to show a bold front to evil-fortune, and Monsieur Antoine shielding him ineffectually against his old friend's malicious shafts, although he did not share the antipathy which the secretary's face and manners aroused in the rest of the family.

Emile had slowly followed Gilberte and Janille into the courtyard, and, despite the little old woman's jealous watchfulness, he had succeeded in telling his sweetheart that he had obeyed her orders zealously, and that he found his father in such a favorable frame of mind that he could safely risk some overture in the following week. But Gilberte thought that the risk would be too great, and urged him to persevere in that sedentary, laborious life. Courage seemed easy to them both. Now that Emile was sure that he was loved, he was so happy that he thought that he could demand nothing more of fortune for a long while. There was a divine tranquillity in the depths of his heart. Gilberte's clear and searching glance said so many things to him now!

There is, in the dawn of a lover's happiness, a moment of tranquil beatitude, when the most penetrating observer would have difficulty in detecting the secret on the surface. The desire to see and speak to each other every hour seems to disappear with the anxious longing to reach an understanding. When their hearts are bound together by a mutual avowal, neither witnesses nor separation can embarrass them or part them in reality. Thus the clear-sighted Janille was deceived by their peaceful merriment and by the prudence which comes only when suffering and doubt are at an end. The perturbation which Janille had often noticed in young Cardonnet, the sudden flush that rose to Gilberte's cheeks at certain words of which she alone had grasped the meaning, her sadness and her ill-designed agitation when he was late in coming, all had vanished since the trip to Crozant, and Janille was amazed that an incident the consequences of which she had dreaded had caused a favorable change in the state of affairs.

"I was mistaken," she said to herself. "My girl is not thinking too much about him; and if he thinks of her, he will know enough to say nothing, and draw back little by little, rather than endanger our repose. He is behaving well, and it would be a pity to hurt his feelings, since he understood me with half a word, and is carrying out my wishes of his own accord."

If Jean Jappeloup had conspired with Emile to take vengeance on Galuchet for his pretensions, he could have done no better than he did; for during more than an hour, while the lovers were strolling about with Janille in the neighborhood of the pavilion, he employed sometimes cunning raillery, sometimes open force to keep him at the table and make him drink, _willy-nilly_. In this test, which was beyond his strength, Galuchet soon lost the little good sense with which nature had endowed him. He was much scandalized at first by the châtelain's habits and conceived a profound contempt for him whom he regarded as the count's companion in debauchery. In a word, Galuchet, who had no trace of elevation in his feelings or his ideas, and who was not worth a single hair from the heads of those two rough-spoken worthies, deemed himself degraded, and promised himself that he would, in his report to his master, depict in startling colors the painful task he had undertaken. But, as he drank, his wits went astray altogether, his vulgar instincts gained the upper hand of his secret vanity, and he began to laugh, to pound on the table, to talk loud, to boast of innumerable feats of valor, and to make such a pitiful exhibition of himself, that Jappeloup, who was as refined as his manners were abrupt, took compassion on him and gave him a severe lecture with a cold and serious air.

"You don't know how to drink, my friend," he said; "you are ugly when you laugh and you are stupid when you try to be witty. If I ventured to give Monsieur Antoine a piece of advice, it would be to give you a glass of water when you come to breakfast with him, otherwise you might make remarks before his daughter that would force me to put you out of doors. You thought, when you saw us all so merry and so unceremonious with one another, that we were vulgar folk and that you must become vulgar to descend to our level. You made a mistake. Whoever has nothing evil in his heart or unclean in his mind can let himself go; and even if I should be so drunk that I couldn't stand, I shouldn't be afraid that I could be made to blush the next day for anything I had said. It seems that it's not the same with you; that is why you do well to dress in black from head to foot and make people who don't know you think you're a gentleman; for if there is a peasant here, you are the man!"

Antoine tried to soften the sermon, and Galuchet tried to get angry. Jean shrugged his shoulders and left the table to avoid having to give him a lesson more appropriate to the state of his intellect.

When they left the pavilion Galuchet was still walking straight; but his head was so heavy and so heated, that he dared not utter a word before Gilberte, for fear of saying one thing for another.

"Well," said Gilberte to Jappeloup, "are we going to the Devil's Rock? It's more than a year since I was there; Janille will never let father take me there because she says it's too dangerous and one can't afford to be absent-minded there; but she will let me go with you, my good Jean! Do you feel that your hand is still strong and your eye sure enough?"

"I?" said Jappeloup, "why, I feel as well equal to the task as if I were no more than twenty-five."

"And you are not tipsy?" said Janille, taking hold of Jean's sleeve and standing on tiptoe to look into his eyes.

"Look, look all you please," said he. "If you can do this, I will agree that I am tipsy!" And he placed on his head a pitcher of water that Janille was carrying, and ran several yards without upsetting it.

"Very good," said Janille; "I could do as much if I chose, but it's no use; I am sure of you, and I trust my girl with you. For my part, I haven't the time to go along. Do you, Monsieur Emile, just keep an eye on the father, for he is quite capable of trying to step ashore in mid-stream, if he is busy laughing or talking."

"And who will keep an eye on Maljuché?" queried Jappeloup, pointing to Galuchet, who had gone ahead with Monsieur Antoine. "I won't be responsible for him."

"Nor I," said Gilberte.

"Never fear," said Emile, "I will undertake to keep him quiet."

"It's not at all certain that you will succeed," rejoined Jean; "if he isn't drunk, he's something like it. You can't say that he's downright _rich_, but he's just _comfortable_. A bed would be better for him than a boat."

"You can notice how he goes down the mountain," suggested Janille; "and if there's danger of his sinking you, leave him on the rocks on the bank."

Galuchet was already in the boat with Monsieur de Châteaubrun when the others arrived. He was flushed and silent. But when they were in midstream the swift current made him dizzy and he began to sway so violently from side to side that Jappeloup, losing patience, took a rope and bound his body securely to the thwart on which he sat. He fell asleep in that position.

"You have a delightful secretary there," said Gilberte to Emile. "I trust, dear papa, that you won't invite him to breakfast again."

"Oh! bless my soul, it's not his fault," replied Monsieur Antoine, "but Jean's, who made him drink more than he wanted."

"What does a man amount to who can't drink without getting drunk?" said Jean; "he's worse than nobody."

The boat glided swiftly down-stream to a spot where the rocks on each side approached so nearly that it was impossible to pass without great danger. Jean was one of the most powerful men in the province. His fearless nature and his strong will added tenfold to his physical strength. He was accustomed to enter into the most trivial undertakings with as much passionate enthusiasm as if he were setting out to conquer the world; and yet, notwithstanding this youthful excitability, his presence of mind was wonderful. He guided the boat in the centre of the current, and, when they entered the narrow passage, threw her across the stream and avoided the shock of a collision with the cliff by leaning out and grasping it with his hand. Emile, who seconded him, gallantly relieved him from time to time, and, the boat being thus held in place, they made ready the harpoon and waited in silence for the prey to pass. Every one knows that the fish always try to swim up against the current, but they were frightened by the unusual barrier and kept approaching and retreating. The lookout leaned forward, stretching his arms as far as he could. Monsieur Antoine and Gilberte, kneeling behind him, watched to see that the movement he made in throwing the harpoon did not sink the boat or drag him overboard. Gilberte, when it was the carpenter's turn, clung to his coat, fearing that he would fall into the water; and when Emile's turn came, she earnestly urged her father to hold him with all his strength. But soon, trusting to no one else, she seized his jacket herself, and more than once he felt the touch of her lovely arms, ready to embrace him in case of accident.

In this situation, which was dangerous for all, Jean's attention and Antoine's was completely absorbed by the excitement of fishing, and the same excitement served the two lovers as a pretext for exchanging glances and words, which Galuchet, although half awake, was in no condition to observe. What would Monsieur Cardonnet have thought could he have seen how well his agent was earning his reward!

At last a salmon was speared, amid frantic shouts from Jean Jappeloup, and Galuchet, partly aroused by the sight of the capture, tried to take a hand in landing him. But his clumsiness and obstinacy spoiled everything, and Jean, beside himself with wrath, turned the boat around, saying:

"When you want to fish for salmon, you will go with somebody besides me. Gudgeons of this size aren't in your line, and if we stayed here long, I should break your head with the shaft of my harpoon."

"God preserve me from coming again with such a boor as you," retorted Galuchet, sitting on the edge of the boat.

"Don't sit there," said the carpenter; "you are in my way, and you would do much better to help me pull up against this current, which runs like a mill-race. Here is Monsieur Emile working like a good fellow, and you, stout and strong as you are, fold your arms and watch the sweat roll off us."

"Faith, it's your own fault," retorted Galuchet; "you made me drink and I am good for nothing."

"Very good, but you are heavy, and as you are not working you can go ashore. To the bank, to the bank, my little Emile! let us get rid of bundles that are in the way!"

They headed for the shore; but Galuchet considered the proposed step insulting, and refused to land, blaspheming in the most reckless way.

"Ten thousand devils!" cried Jappeloup, thoroughly angry, "you have made me lose a superb salmon, but you shan't make me break my back in your service!"

And he pushed him out of the boat; but Galuchet, because he resisted, fell between the boat and the bank, into the water, up to his waist.

"Faith, that's well done," said Jappeloup, "that will put a little water in your wine."

And he pulled the boat rapidly out of Galuchet's reach, for, in his rage, he tried to upset her.

"Ah! the miserable fellow!" cried the carpenter, "confess, that if there are some good beasts, there are many vicious ones. Let him wallow," he said to his companions, who feared that poor Galuchet, because of his fuddled condition, might drown, although the water was not dangerously deep. "If he sinks too far I'll stick my harpoon in his belt and fish him up like a salmon. Bah! if it were anything of value, we might have reason to be anxious, but things that are good for nothing, dead cats and empty bottles, always float."

In a few moments Galuchet jumped up on the bank, shook his fist and vanished.

This ridiculous incident depressed Gilberte. For the first time she detected a serious inconvenience in her father's too great good-nature. His rustic and simple manners, which were those of the people about him and were the expression of a kindly and innocent nature, began to terrify her, as not affording such enlightened and judicious protection as her age and sex demanded.

"I am a poor country girl," she said to herself, "and I can get along very well with peasants; but on the condition that no ill-bred semi-bourgeois undertakes to interfere; for then the peasants become a little too violent in their wrath, and the life I lead does not put me out of reach of a coward's revenge."

Thereupon she thought of Emile as a protector destined for her by heaven; but she asked herself amid what surroundings he himself was compelled to live, and the idea that Monsieur Cardonnet employed people of the Galuchet species caused her a sort of vague alarm with regard to his character and habits.

When Jean Jappeloup returned to Gargilesse that evening, he found Galuchet lying like a dead man in the middle of the road. The poor devil, sobered momentarily by the bath he had taken, had entered a wineshop to dry his clothes, and as he was afraid of his health, he had allowed himself to be persuaded to take a glass of eau-de-vie, which had finished him. He was returning home literally on all fours. Jean had had time to forget his anger, nor was he the man to leave a fellow-man in danger of being trampled upon by horses' feet. He lifted him up, submitted patiently to his threats and insults, and led him, more than half carrying him, to the factory; and Galuchet, who did not recognize him, went in, swearing that he would be revenged on the scoundrel who had tried to drown him.