travels with a donkey in the cevennes-第25章
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into a cask with water； one by one the berries ferment and burst；
what is drunk during the day is supplied at night in water： so；
with ever another pitcher from the well； and ever another grape
exploding and giving out its strength； one cask of Parisienne may
last a family till spring。 It is； as the reader will anticipate； a
feeble beverage； but very pleasant to the taste。
What with dinner and coffee； it was long past three before I left
St。 Germain de Calberte。 I went down beside the Gardon of Mialet；
a great glaring watercourse devoid of water； and through St。
Etienne de Vallee Francaise； or Val Francesque； as they used to
call it； and towards evening began to ascend the hill of St。
Pierre。 It was a long and steep ascent。 Behind me an empty
carriage returning to St。 Jean du Gard kept hard upon my tracks；
and near the summit overtook me。 The driver； like the rest of the
world； was sure I was a pedlar； but； unlike others； he was sure of
what I had to sell。 He had noticed the blue wool which hung out of
my pack at either end； and from this he had decided； beyond my
power to alter his decision； that I dealt in blue…wool collars；
such as decorate the neck of the French draught…horse。
I had hurried to the topmost powers of Modestine； for I dearly
desired to see the view upon the other side before the day had
faded。 But it was night when I reached the summit； the moon was
riding high and clear； and only a few grey streaks of twilight
lingered in the west。 A yawning valley； gulfed in blackness； lay
like a hole in created nature at my feet； but the outline of the
hills was sharp against the sky。 There was Mount Aigoal； the
stronghold of Castanet。 And Castanet； not only as an active
undertaking leader； deserves some mention among Camisards； for
there is a spray of rose among his laurel； and he showed how； even
in a public tragedy； love will have its way。 In the high tide of
war he married； in his mountain citadel； a young and pretty lass
called Mariette。 There were great rejoicings； and the bridegroom
released five…and…twenty prisoners in honour of the glad event。
Seven months afterwards； Mariette； the Princess of the Cevennes； as
they called her in derision； fell into the hands of the
authorities； where it was like to have gone hard with her。 But
Castanet was a man of execution； and loved his wife。 He fell on
Valleraugue； and got a lady there for a hostage； and for the first
and last time in that war there was an exchange of prisoners。
Their daughter； pledge of some starry night upon Mount Aigoal； has
left descendants to this day。
Modestine and I … it was our last meal together … had a snack upon
the top of St。 Pierre； I on a heap of stones； she standing by me in
the moonlight and decorously eating bread out of my hand。 The poor
brute would eat more heartily in this manner； for she had a sort of
affection for me； which I was soon to betray。
It was a long descent upon St。 Jean du Gard； and we met no one but
a carter； visible afar off by the glint of the moon on his
extinguished lantern。
Before ten o'clock we had got in and were at supper； fifteen miles
and a stiff hill in little beyond six hours！
FAREWELL； MODESTINE！
ON examination； on the morning of October 3rd； Modestine was
pronounced unfit for travel。 She would need at least two days'
repose； according to the ostler； but I was now eager to reach Alais
for my letters； and； being in a civilised country of stage…coaches；
I determined to sell my lady friend and be off by the diligence
that afternoon。 Our yesterday's march； with the testimony of the
driver who had pursued us up the long hill of St。 Pierre； spread a
favourable notion of my donkey's capabilities。 Intending
purchasers were aware of an unrivalled opportunity。 Before ten I
had an offer of twenty…five francs； and before noon； after a
desperate engagement； I sold her； saddle and all； for five…and…
thirty。 The pecuniary gain is not obvious； but I had bought
freedom into the bargain。
St Jean du Gard is a large place； and largely Protestant。 The
maire； a Protestant； asked me to help him in a small matter which
is itself characteristic of the country。 The young women of the
Cevennes profit by the common religion and the difference of the
language to go largely as governesses into England； and here was
one； a native of Mialet； struggling with English circulars from two
different agencies in London。 I gave what help I could； and
volunteered some advice； which struck me as being excellent。
One thing more I note。 The phylloxera has ravaged the vineyards in
this neighbourhood； and in the early morning； under some chestnuts
by the river； I found a party of men working with a cider…press。 I
could not at first make out what they were after； and asked one
fellow to explain。
'Making cider；' he said。 'OUI； C'EST COMME CA。 COMME DANS LE
NORD！'
There was a ring of sarcasm in his voice： the country was going to
the devil。
It was not until I was fairly seated by the driver； and rattling
through a rocky valley with dwarf olives； that I became aware of my
bereavement。 I had lost Modestine。 Up to that moment I had
thought I hated her； but now she was gone；
'And oh！
The difference to me！'
For twelve days we had been fast companions； we had travelled
upwards of a hundred and twenty miles； crossed several respectable
ridges； and jogged along with our six legs by many a rocky and many
a boggy by…road。 After the first day； although sometimes I was
hurt and distant in manner； I still kept my patience； and as for
her； poor soul！ she had come to regard me as a god。 She loved to
eat out of my hand。 She was patient； elegant in form； the colour
of an ideal mouse； and inimitably small。 Her faults were those of
her race and sex； her virtues were her own。 Farewell； and if for
ever …
Father Adam wept when he sold her to me； after I had sold her in my
turn； I was tempted to follow his example； and being alone with a
stage…driver and four or five agreeable young men； I did not
hesitate to yield to my emotion。
End
