sons of the soil-第7章
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with vegetation; showing three large windows with cross…bar sashes。 A
winding stairway in one of the towers leads to two chambers; and a
kitchen occupies the other tower。 The roof of the porch; of pointed
shape like all old timber…work; is noticeable for two weathercocks
perched at each end of a ridge…pole ornamented with fantastic iron…
work。 Many an important place cannot boast of so fine a town hall。 On
the outside of this gateway; the keystone of the arch still bears the
arms of Soulanges; preserved by the hardness of the stone on which the
chisel of the artist carved them; as follows: Azure; on a pale;
argent; three pilgrim's staff's sable; a fess bronchant; gules;
charged with four grosses patee; fitched; or; with the heraldic form
of a shield awarded to younger sons。 Blondet deciphered the motto; 〃Je
soule agir;〃one of those puns that crusaders delighted to make upon
their names; and which brings to mind a fine political maxim; which;
as we shall see later; was unfortunately forgotten by Montcornet。 The
gate; which was opened for Blondet by a very pretty girl; was of time…
worn wood clamped with iron。 The keeper; wakened by the creaking of
the hinges; put his nose out of the window and showed himself in his
night…shirt。
〃So our keepers sleep till this time of day!〃 thought the Parisian;
who thought himself very knowing in rural customs。
After a walk of about quarter of an hour; he reached the sources of
the river above Conches; where his ravished eyes beheld one of those
landscapes that ought to be described; like the history of France; in
a thousand volumes or in only one。 We must here content ourselves with
two paragraphs。
A projecting rock; covered with dwarf trees and abraded at its base by
the Avonne; to which circumstance it owes a slight resemblance to an
enormous turtle lying across the river; forms an arch through which
the eye takes in a little sheet of water; clear as a mirror; where the
stream seems to sleep until it reaches in the distance a series of
cascades falling among huge rocks; where little weeping willows with
elastic motion sway back and forth to the flow of waters。
Beyond these cascades is the hillside; rising sheer; like a Rhine rock
clothed with moss and heather; gullied like it; again; by sharp ridges
of schist and mica sending down; here and there; white foaming
rivulets to which a little meadow; always watered and always green;
serves as a cup; farther on; beyond the picturesque chaos and in
contrast to this wild; solitary nature; the gardens of Conches are
seen; with the village roofs and the clock…tower and the outlying
fields。
There are the two paragraphs; but the rising sun; the purity of the
air; the dewy sheen; the melody of woods and watersimagine them!
〃Almost as charming as at the Opera;〃 thought Blondet; making his way
along the banks of the unnavigable portion of the Avonne; whose
caprices contrast with the straight and deep and silent stream of the
lower river; flowing between the tall trees of the forest of Les
Aigues。
Blondet did not proceed far on his morning walk; for he was presently
brought to a stand…still by the sight of a peasant;one of those who;
in this drama; are supernumeraries so essential to its action that it
may be doubted whether they are not in fact its leading actors。
When the clever journalist reached a group of rocks where the main
stream is imprisoned; as it were; between two portals; he saw a man
standing so motionless as to excite his curiosity; while the clothes
and general air of this living statue greatly puzzled him。
The humble personage before him was a living presentment of the old
men dear to Charlet's pencil; resembling the troopers of that Homer of
soldiery in a strong frame able to endure hardship; and his immortal
skirmishers in a fiery; crimson; knotted face; showing small capacity
for submission。 A coarse felt hat; the brim of which was held to the
crown by stitches; protected a nearly bald head from the weather;
below it fell a quantity of white hair which a painter would gladly
have paid four francs an hour to copy;a dazzling mass of snow; worn
like that in all the classical representations of Deity。 It was easy
to guess from the way in which the cheeks sank in; continuing the
lines of the mouth; that the toothless old fellow was more given to
the bottle than the trencher。 His thin white beard gave a threatening
expression to his profile by the stiffness of its short bristles。 The
eyes; too small for his enormous face; and sloping like those of a
pig; betrayed cunning and also laziness; but at this particular moment
they were gleaming with the intent look he cast upon the river。 The
sole garments of this curious figure were an old blouse; formerly
blue; and trousers of the coarse burlap used in Paris to wrap bales。
All city people would have shuddered at the sight of his broken
sabots; without even a wisp of straw to stop the cracks; and it is
very certain that the blouse and the trousers had no money value at
all except to a paper…maker。
As Blondet examined this rural Diogenes; he admitted the possibility
of a type of peasantry he had seen in old tapestries; old pictures;
old sculptures; and which; up to this time; had seemed to him
imaginary。 He resolved for the future not to utterly condemn the
school of ugliness; perceiving a possibility that in man beauty may be
but the flattering exception; a chimera in which the race struggles to
believe。
〃What can be the ideas; the morals; the habits; of such a being? What
is he thinking of?〃 thought Blondet; seized with curiosity。 〃Is he my
fellow…creature? We have nothing in common but shape; and even
that!〃
He noticed in the old man's limbs the peculiar rigidity of the tissues
of persons who live in the open air; accustomed to the inclemencies of
the weather and to the endurance of heat and cold;hardened to
everything; in short;which makes their leathern skin almost a hide;
and their nerves an apparatus against physical pain almost as powerful
as that of the Russians or the Arabs。
〃Here's one of Cooper's Red…skins;〃 thought Blondet; 〃one needn't go
to America to study savages。〃
Though the Parisian was less than ten paces off; the old man did not
turn his head; but kept looking at the opposite bank with a fixity
which the fakirs of India give to their vitrified eyes and their
stiffened joints。 Compelled by the power of a species of magnetism;
more contagious than people have any idea of; Blondet ended by gazing
at the water himself。
〃Well; my good man; what do you see there?〃 he asked; after the lapse
of a quarter of an hour; during which time he saw nothing to justify
this intent contemplation。
〃Hush!〃 whispered the old man; with a sign to Blondet not to ruffle
the air with his voice; 〃You will frighten it〃
〃What?〃
〃An otter; my good gentleman。 If it hears us it'll go quick under
water。 I'm certain it jumped there; see! see! there; where the water
bubbles! Ha! it sees a fish; it is after that! But my boy will grab it
as it comes back。 The otter; don't you know; is very rare; it is
scientific game; and good eating; too。 I get ten francs for every one
I carry to Les Aigues; for the lady fasts Fridays; and to…morrow is
Friday。 Years agone the deceased madame used to pay me twenty francs;
and gave me the skin to boot! Mouche;〃 he called; in a low voice;
〃watch it!〃
Blondet now perceived on the other side of the river two bright eyes;
like those of a cat; beneath a tuft of alders; then he saw the tanned
forehead and tangled hair of a boy about ten years of age; who was
lying on his stomach and making signs towards the otter to let his
master know he kept it well in sight。 Blondet; completely mastered by
the eagerness of the old man and boy; allowed the demon of the chase
to get the better of him;that demon with the double claws of hope
and curiosity; who carries yo