tales of trail and town-第31部分

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wicked　black　eyes　seemed　to　flash　and　kindle　at　his　own；its　lip

curled　with　Dick's　own　sardonic　humor！



He　was　recalled　to　himself　by　a　step　in　the　gallery。　　It　was　the

Cure　who　had　entered　hastily；　evidently　in　search　of　one　of　the

servants。　　Partly　because　it　was　a　man　and　not　a　woman；　partly　from

a　feeling　of　bravadoand　partly　from　a　strange　sense；　excited　by

the　picture；　that　he　had　some　claim　to　be　there；　he　turned　and

faced　the　pale　priest　with　a　slight　dash　of　impatient　devilry　that

would　have　done　credit　to　the　portrait。　　But　he　was　sorry　for　it

the　next　moment！



The　priest；　looking　up　suddenly；　discovered　what　seemed　to　him　to

be　the　portrait　standing　before　its　own　frame　and　glaring　at　him。

Throwing　up　his　hands　with　an　averted　head　and　an　〃EXORCIS！〃　he

wheeled　and　scuffled　away。　　Dick　seized　the　opportunity；　darted

through　the　narrow　door　on　to　the　rear　terrace；　and　ran；　under

cover　of　the　shadow　of　the　house；　to　the　steps　into　the　garden。

Luckily　for　him；　this　new　and　unexpected　diversion　occupied　the

inmates　too　much　with　what　was　going　on　in　the　house　to　give　them

time　to　search　outside。　　Dick　reached　the　lilac　hedge；　tore　up　the

hill；　and　in　a　few　moments　threw　himself；　panting；　on　his　blanket。

In　the　single　look　he　had　cast　behind；　he　had　seen　that　the　half…

dark　salon　was　now　brilliantly　lightedwhere　no　doubt　the　whole

terrified　household　was　now　assembled。　　He　had　no　fear　of　being

followed；　since　his　confrontation　with　his　own　likeness　in　the

mysterious　portrait；　he　understood　everything。　　The　apparently

supernatural　character　of　his　visitation　was　made　plain；　his

ruffled　vanity　was　soothedhis　vindication　was　complete。　　He

laughed　to　himself　and　rolled　about；　until　in　his　suppressed

merriment　the　rose　fell　from　his　bosom；　andhe　stopped！　　Its

freshness　and　fragrance　recalled　the　innocent　young　girl　he　had

frightened。　　He　remembered　her　gentle；　pleading　voice；　and　his

cheek　flushed。　　Well；　he　had　done　the　best　he　could　in　bringing　her

back　to　the　houseat　the　risk　of　being　taken　for　a　burglarand

she　was　safe　now！　　If　that　stupid　French　parson　didn't　know　the

difference　between　a　living　man　and　a　dead　and　painted　one；　it

wasn't　his　fault。　　But　he　fell　asleep　with　the　rose　in　his　fingers。



He　was　awake　at　the　first　streak　of　dawn。　　He　again　bathed　his

horse's　shoulder；　saddled；　but　did　not　mount　him；　as　the　beast；

although　better；　was　still　stiff；　and　Dick　wished　to　spare　him　for

the　journey　to　still　distant　Havre；　although　he　had　determined　to

lie　over　that　night　at　the　first　wayside　inn。　　Luckily　for　him；　the

disturbance　at　the　chateau　had　not　extended　to　the　forest；　for　Dick

had　to　lead　his　horse　slowly　and　could　not　have　escaped；　but　no

suspicion　of　external　intrusion　seemed　to　have　been　awakened；　and

the　woodland　was；　evidently；　seldom　invaded。



By　dint　of　laying　his　course　by　the　sun　and　the　exercise　of　a

little　woodcraft；　in　the　course　of　two　hours　he　heard　the　creaking

of　a　hay…cart；　and　knew　that　he　was　near　a　traveled　road。　　But　to

his　discomfiture　he　presently　came　to　a　high　wall；　which　had

evidently　guarded　this　portion　of　the　woods　from　the　public。　　Time；

however；　had　made　frequent　breaches　in　the　stones；　these　had　been

roughly　filled　in　with　a　rude　abatis　of　logs　and　treetops　pointing

towards　the　road。　　But　as　these　were　mainly　designed　to　prevent

intrusion　into　the　park　rather　than　egress　from　it；　Dick　had　no

difficulty　in　rolling　them　aside　and　emerging　at　last　with　his

limping　steed　upon　the　white　high…road。　　The　creaking　cart　had

passed；　it　was　yet　early　for　traffic；　and　Dick　presently　came　upon

a　wine…shop；　a　bakery；　a　blacksmith's　shop；　laundry；　and　a　somewhat

pretentious　cafe　and　hotel　in　a　broader　space　which　marked　the

junction　of　another　road。



Directly　before　it；　however；　to　his　consternation；　were　the

massive；　but　timeworn；　iron　gates　of　a　park；　which　Dick　did　not

doubt　was　the　one　in　which　he　had　spent　the　previous　night。　　But　it

was　impossible　to　go　further　in　his　present　plight；　and　he　boldly

approached　the　restaurant。　　As　he　was　preparing　to　make　his　usual

explanatory　signs；　to　his　great　delight　he　was　addressed　in　a

quaint；　broken　English；　mixed　with　forgotten　American　slang；　by　the

white…trousered；　black…alpaca　coated　proprietor。　　More　than　that

he　was　a　Social　Democrat　and　an　enthusiastic　lover　of　Americahad

he　not　been　to　〃Bos…town〃　and　New　York；　and　penetrated　as　far　west

as　〃Booflo；〃　and　had　much　pleasure　in　that　beautiful　and　free

country？　　Yes！　it　was　a　〃go…a…'ed〃　countryyou　〃bet…your…lif'。〃

One　had　reason　to　say　so：　there　was　your　electricityyour　street

carsyour　〃steambots〃ah！　such　steambotsand　your　〃r…rail…r…

roads。〃　　Ah！　observe！　compare　your　r…rail…r…roads　and　the　buffet　of

the　Pullman　with　the　line　from　Paris；　for　exampleand　where　is

one？　　Nowhere！　　Actually；　positively；　without　doubt；　nowhere！



Later；　at　an　appetizing　breakfastat　which；　to　Dick's　great

satisfaction；　the　good　man　had　permitted　and　congratulated　himself

to　sit　at　table　with　a　free…born　Americanhe　was　even　more

loquacious。　　For　what　then；　he　would　ask；　was　this　incompetence；

this　imbecility；　of　France？　　He　would　tell。　　It　was　the　vile

corruption　of　Paris；　the　grasping　of　capital　and　companies；　the

fatal　influence　of　the　still　clinging　noblesse；　and　the　insidious

Jesuitical　power　of　the　priests。　　As　for　example；　Monsieur　〃the

Booflo…bil〃　had　doubtless　noticed　the　great　gates　of　the　park

before　the　cafe？　　It　was　the　preserve；the　hunting…park　of　one　of

the　old　grand　seigneurs；　still　kept　up　by　his　descendants；　the

Comtes　de　Fontonelleshundreds　of　acres　that　had　never　been

tilled；　and　kept　as　wild　waste　wilderness；kept　for　a　day's

pleasure　in　a　year！　　And；　look　you！　the　peasants　starving　around

its　walls　in　their　small　garden　patches　and　pinched　farms！　　And　the

present　Comte　de　Fontonelles　cascading　gold　on　his　mistresses　in

Paris；　and　the　Comtesse；　his　mother；　and　her　daughter　living　there

to　feed　and　fatten　and　pension　a　brood　of　plotting；　black…cowled

priests。　　Ah；　bah！　where　was　your　Republican　France；　then？　　But　a

time　would　come。　　The　〃Booflo…bil〃　had；　without　doubt；　noticed；　as

he　came　along　the　road；　the　breaches　in　the　wall　of　the　park？



Dick；　with　a　slight　dry　reserve；　〃reckoned　that　he　had。〃



〃They　were　made　by　the　scythes　and　pitchforks　of　the　peasants　in

the　Revolution　of　'93；　when　the　count　was　emigre；　as　one　says　with

reason　'skedadelle；'　to　England。　　Let　them　look　the　next　time　that

they　burn　not　the　chateau；'bet　your　lif'！'〃



〃The　chateau；〃　said　Dick；　with　affected　carelessness。　　〃Wot's　the

blamed　thing　like？〃



It　was　an　old　affair；with　armor　and　a　picture…gallery；and

bricabrac。　　He　had　never　seen　it。　　Not　even　as　a　boy；it　was　kept

very　secluded　then。　　As　a　manyou　understandhe　could　not　ask　the

favor。　　The　Comtes　de　Fontonelles　and　himself　were　not　friends。

The　family　did　not　like　a　cafe　near　their　sacred　gates；where　had

stood　only　the　huts　of　their　retainers。　　The　American　would　observe

that　he　had　not　called　it　〃Cafe　de　Chateau；〃　nor　〃Cafe　de

Fontonelles；〃the　gold　of　California　would　not　induce　him。　　Why

did　he　remain　there？　　Naturally；　to　goad　them！　　It　was　a　principle；

one　understood。　　To　GOAD　them　and　hold　them　in　check！　　One　kept　a

cafe；why　not？　　One　had　one's　principles；one's　conviction；that

was　another　thing！　　That　was　the　kind　of　〃'air…pin〃was　it　not？

that　HE；　Gustav　Ribaud；　was　like！



Yet　for　all　his　truculent　socialism；　he　was　quick；　obliging；　and

charmingly　attentive　to　Dick　and　his　needs。　　As　to　Dick's　horse；　he

should　have　the　best　veterinary　surgeonthere　was　an　incomparable

one　in　the　person　of　the　blacksmithsee　to　him；　and　if　it　were　an

affair　of　days；　and　Dick　must　go；　he　himself　would　be　glad　to

purchase　the　beast；　his　saddle；　and　accoutrements。　　It　was　an

affair　of　business；an　advertisement　for　the　cafe！　　He　would　ride

the　horse　himself　before　the　gates　of　the　park。　　It　would　please

his　customers。　　Ha！　he　had　learned　a　trick　or　two　in　free　America。



Dick's　first　act　had　been　to　shave　off　his　characteristic　beard　and

mustache；　and　even　to　submit　his　long　curls　to　the　village　barber's

shears；　while　a　straw　hat；　which　he　bought　to　take　the　place　of　his

slouched　sombrero；　completed　his　transformation。　　His　host　saw　in

the　change　only　the　natural　preparation　of　a　voyager；　but　Dick　had

really　made　the　sacrifice；　not　from　fear　of　detection；　for　he　had

recovered　his　old　swaggering　audacity；　but　from　a　quick　distaste　he

had　taken　to　his　resemblance　to　the　portrait。　　He　was　too　genuine　a

Westerner；　and　too　vain　a　man；　to　feel　flattered　at　his　resemblance

to　an　aristocratic　bully；　as　he　believed　the　ancestral　De　Fontonelles

to　be。　　Even　his　momentary　sensation　as　he　faced　the　Cure　in　the

picture…gallery　was　more　from　a　vague　sense　that　liberties　had　been

taken　with　his；　Dick's；　personality；　than　that　he　had　borrowed

anything　from　the　portrait。