Part 13

"No, no!" she answered. "Thérence, who knows her brother's mules, says there is not one of his in the troop; besides, that's not his horse nor his dog. I am afraid of all muleteers except Huriel, and I wish we could get away from here."

As she spoke, we saw some twenty muleteers coming out of the surrounding forest. They presently called off their beasts and stood round to see the dancing. I reassured Brulette; for in full day and in sight of so many people I knew there was nothing to fear. Only I told her not to go away far from me, and then I returned to the arbor, where I saw the muleteers were about to help themselves without ceremony.

As they shouted out, "To drink! something to drink!" like folks in a tavern, I told them civilly that I did not sell my wine, but that if they asked for it politely I should be happy to give them the loving cup.

"Then it is a wedding?" said the tallest of them, whom I recognized by his fair skin as the leader of those we had met so unluckily in the woods of La Roche.

"Wedding or not," I replied, "it is I who give the feast, and with all my heart to those I please; but--"

He did not leave me time to finish before he answered, "We have no rights here,--you are the master; thank you for your good intentions, but you don't know us, and you had better keep your wine for your friends."

He said a few words to the others in their own dialect and led them to a place apart, where they sat down and ate their own suppers very quietly. The Head-Woodsman went to speak with them, and showed much regard for their leader, named Archignat, who was considered an upright man,--as far as a muleteer can be one.

Among those present were several who could play the bagpipe,--not like Père Bastien, who hadn't his equal in the world, and could make the stones dance and the old oaks curtsey if he liked,--but much better than Carnat and his son. So the bagpipe changed hands until it reached those of the muleteer chief Archignat; while the Head-Woodsman, whose heart and body were still young, went to dance with his daughter, of whom he was just as proud--and with as good right, too--as Père Brulet was of his.

But just as he was calling Brulette to come and be his vis-à-vis, a rascally fellow, coming from I don't know where, endeavored to take her hand. Though it was getting dusk, Brulette recognized him as the man who had threatened us in the woods of La Roche, and had even talked of killing her protectors and burying them under a tree that could tell no tales. Fear and horror made her refuse him quickly and press back against me, who, having exhausted all my provisions, was just going to dance with her.

"The girl promised me this dance," I said to the muleteer, seeing he was determined to get her; "find some one else."

"Very good," he said; "but after this set with you, my turn will come."

"No," said Brulette, hastily, "I would rather never dance again."

"That's what we shall see!" he exclaimed, following us to the dance, where he remained standing behind us, and criticising us, I think, in his own language. Every time Brulette passed him he gave vent to language which, from the expression of his bad eyes, I judged to be insolent.

"Wait till I have finished dancing," I said, punching him as I passed; "I'll settle your bill for you in language your back shall understand."

But when the dance was over I could not find him anywhere, he had hidden himself so carefully. Brulette, seeing what a coward he was, got over her fright and danced with the others, who paid her very pretty respect; but just as I ceased for a moment to watch her, the scoundrel came back and took her from the midst of a number of young girls, forcing her into the middle of the dance, and taking advantage of the darkness which hid her resistance, tried to embrace her. At that moment I ran up, not seeing clearly, but thinking I heard Brulette call me. I had no time to do justice on the man myself, for before his blackened face had touched hers the fellow received such a blow on the nape of his neck that his eyes must have bulged like those of a rat pinned in a trap.

Brulette, thinking the help came from me, threw herself into her defender's arms, and was much amazed to find herself in those of Huriel.

I tried to take advantage of the fact that our friend had his arms full, to seize the scoundrel myself; and I would have paid him all I owed him if the company had not interfered between us. As the man now assailed us with words, calling us cowards because we had attacked him two to one, the music stopped; the crowd gathered about the scene of the quarrel, and the Head-Woodsman came up with Archignat,--one forbidding the muleteers, and the other the woodcutters and sawyers, from taking part in the affair until the meaning of it were known.

Malzac--that was our enemy's name (and he had a tongue as venomous as an adder's)--made his statement first, declaring that he had civilly invited the Berrichon girl to dance; that in kissing her he had only used his right and followed the custom of the dance, and that two of the girl's lovers, to wit, Huriel and I, had unfairly attacked him together and foully struck him.

"That is false," I replied. "It is a lasting regret to me that I did not belabor the man who has just addressed you; but the truth is I arrived too late to touch him in any way, fair or foul; for the people round withheld my arm as I was going to strike. I tell you the thing as it happened; but give me a chance, and I will make true, what he has said!"

"As for me," said Huriel, "I took him by the neck as you would a hare, but without striking him, and it is not my fault if his clothes didn't protect his skin. But I owe him a better lesson, and I came here to-night to find an opportunity to give it. Therefore, I demand of Maître Archignat, my chief, and of Maître Bastien, my father, to be heard at once, or directly after this fête is over, and to receive justice if my claim is recognized as good."

On this the mendicant friar came forward and began to preach peace; but he had too much of the good Bourbon wine in his head to manage his tongue, and he couldn't make himself heard in the uproar.

"Silence!" cried the Head-Woodsman, in a voice that would have drowned the thunder of heaven. "Stand back all of you, and let us manage our own affairs; you can listen if you like, but you have no voice in this chapter. Stand here, muleteers, for Malzac and Huriel. And here stand I, and the men of the forest, as sponsors and judges for this youth of Berry. Speak, Tiennet, and bring your charge. What have you against this muleteer? If it be true that he kissed your compatriot in the dance I know that such is the custom in your part of the country as well as in our own. That is not reason enough even to think of striking a man. Tell us the cause of your anger against him; that is where we must begin."

I did not need urging, and although such an assemblage of muleteers and foresters caused me some embarrassment, I managed to oil my tongue sufficiently to tell, in a proper manner, the story of what happened in the woods of La Roche; and I claimed the testimony of chief Archignat himself, to whom I did justice, even more perhaps than he deserved; but I saw very well that I must not throw any blame on him if I wished to have him favorable to me; and in this way I proved to him that Berrichons are not greater fools than other people, nor any easier to put in the wrong.

The company, who had already formed a good opinion of Brulette and me, blamed Malzac's conduct; but the Head-Woodsman again commanded silence, and addressing Maître Archignat, demanded to know if there were anything false in my statement.

The tall red-haired chief was a shrewd and prudent man. His face was as white as a sheet, and no matter what annoyance he felt, he never seemed to have a drop more or a drop less of blood in his body. His parti-colored eyes were soft and not deceitful in expression; but his mouth, partly hidden by his red beard, smiled every now and then with a silly air which concealed a fund of intelligent malevolence. He did not like Huriel, though he behaved as if he did, and he was generally considered an honest man. In reality, he was the greatest pillager of them all, and his conscience set the interests of his fraternity above every other consideration. They had chosen him chief on account of his cool-bloodedness, which enabled him to act by stratagem and thus save the band from quarrels and legal proceedings, in which indeed he was considered as clever as a lawyer's clerk.

He made no answer to the Head-Woodsman's question,--whether from caution or stupidity it was impossible to say; for the more his attention was roused, the more he looked like a man who was half-asleep and did not hear what was said to him. He merely made a sign to Huriel as if to ask if the testimony he was going to give would agree with his own. But Huriel who, without being sly, was as cautious as he, answered: "Master, you are appealed to as witness by this young man. If it please you to corroborate him, I am not needed to corroborate you; and if you think fit to blame him, the customs of our fraternity forbid me to contradict you. No one here has anything to do with our affairs. If Malzac has been to blame I know beforehand that you will blame him. My affair is a totally different matter. In the dispute we had together before you in the woods of La Roche, the cause of which I am not obliged to reveal, Malzac told me three times that I lied, and he threatened me personally. I don't know if you heard him, but I declare it on my oath; and as I was then insulted and dishonored I now claim the right of battle according to the rules of our order."

Archignat consulted the other muleteers in a low voice, and it appeared that they all sustained Huriel, for they formed a ring, and the chief uttered one word only, "Go!" on which Malzac and Huriel advanced and faced each other.

I tried to put myself forward, declaring it was for me to revenge my cousin, and that my complaint was of more importance than that of Huriel; but Archignat shoved me aside, saying: "If Huriel is beaten, you can come forward; but if Malzac goes down you must be satisfied with what you have seen done."

"The women will retire!" cried the Head-Woodsman, "they are out of place here."

He was pale as he said it, but he did not flinch from the danger his son was about to meet.

"They can retire if they choose," said Thérence, who was pale, too, but quite as firm as he. "I must remain for my brother; he may need me to stanch his blood."

Brulette, more dead than alive, implored Huriel and me not to go on with the quarrel; but it was too late to listen to her. I gave her to Joseph's care, and he took her to a distance, while I laid aside my jacket to be ready to revenge Huriel if he fell.

I had no idea what sort of fight it would be, and I watched it carefully, so as not to be taken unawares when my turn should come. They had lighted two pine torches and had measured, by pacing, the space to which the combatants should be confined. Each was furnished with a holly stick, short and knotted, and the Head-Woodsman assisted Archignat in making these preparations with a calmness which was not in his heart and which it grieved me to see.

Malzac, who was short and thin, was not as strong as Huriel, but he was quicker in his movements and knew better how to fight; for Huriel, though skilful with the stick, was so kindly in temper that he had seldom had occasion to use it. All this passed through my mind during the few moments in which they were feeling each other's strength; and I confess my heart thumped within me, as much from fear for Huriel as from anger against his enemy.

For two or three minutes, which seemed to me hours by the clock, not a blow reached its aim, each being well parried on either side; presently, however, we began to hear that the sticks no longer struck wood, and the muffled sound they made falling on flesh gave me a cold sweat. In our part of the country we never fight under rules except with fists, and I own that my feelings were not hardened enough to stand the idea of split heads and broken jaws. I felt disgust, anger, and pity for the whole thing, and yet I watched with open mouth and eyes to lose nothing of it; for the wind blew the flame of the torches, and sometimes nothing more than a hazy light surrounded the combatants. Suddenly, however, one of the two gave a moan like that of a tree cut in two by a blast of wind, and rolled in the dust.

Which was it? I could not see, for the dazzles were in my eyes, but I heard Thérence exclaim,--

"Thank God, my brother has won!"

I began to see again. Huriel was standing erect, waiting, like a fair fighter, to see if his adversary rose, but not approaching him, for fear of some treachery, of which he knew the man capable.

But Malzac did not rise, and Archignat, forbidding the others to move, called him three times. No answer being given he advanced towards him, saying,--

"Malzac, it is I, don't touch me."

Malzac appeared to have no desire to do so,--he lay as still as a stone; and the chief stooping over him, touched him, looked at him, and then called two of the muleteers by name and said to them:--

"The game is up with him; do what there is to do."

They immediately took him by the feet and head and disappeared at full speed in the forest, followed by the other muleteers, who prevented all who did not belong to their fraternity from making any inquiry as to the result of the affair. Maître Archignat was the last to go, after saying a word to the Head-Woodsman, who replied,--

"That's enough; adieu."

Thérence had fastened on her brother, and was wiping the perspiration from his face with a handkerchief, asking him if he was wounded, and trying to detain him and examine him. But he, too, whispered in her ear, and she at once replied,--

"Yes, yes--adieu!"

Huriel then took Archignat's arm, and the pair disappeared in the darkness; for, as they went, they knocked over the torches, and I felt for a moment as if I were in the act of waking out of an ugly dream, full of lights and noises, into the silence and thick darkness of the night.

SIXTEENTH EVENING.

However, I began to see clearly, little by little, and my feet, whose soles had seemed pegged to the ground, followed the Head-Woodsman in the direction of the lodges. I was much surprised to find that there was no one there but his daughter, Brulette, Joseph, and three or four old men who had been at the fight. All the others, it appeared, had run away when they saw the sticks produced, to avoid giving witness in a court of justice if the matter ended fatally. These woodland people never betray each other, and to escape being summoned and harassed by the law, they manage so as to see nothing and have nothing to say. The Head-Woodsman spoke to the old men in their own language, and I saw them go back to the place where the fight occurred, without understanding what they intended to do there. Meantime I followed Joseph and the women, and we reached the lodges without saying a word to each other.

As for me, I had been so shaken in mind that I did not want to talk. When we entered the lodge and sat down we were all as white as if we were afraid. The Head-Woodsman, who soon joined us, sat down too, evidently in deep thought, with his eyes fixed to the earth. Brulette, who had compelled herself not to ask questions, was crying in a corner; Joseph, as if worn out with fatigue, had thrown himself at full length on a pile of dried ferns; Thérence alone came and went, and prepared the beds for the night; but her teeth were set, and when she tried to speak she stammered.

After a while the Head-Woodsman rose and looking round upon us said: "Well, my children, after all, what is it? A lesson has been given, and justly given, to a bad man, known everywhere for his evil conduct,--a man who abandoned his wife and let her die of grief and poverty. Malzac has long disgraced the fraternity of muleteers, and if he were to die no one would regret him. Must we make ourselves unhappy because Huriel gave him a few hard blows in honest battle? Why do you cry, Brulette? Have you such a soft heart that you are shedding tears for the beaten man? Do you not think that my son was right to defend your honor and his own? He had told me all that happened in the woods of La Roche, and I knew that out of prudent regard for your safety he refrained from punishing that man at the time. He even hoped that Tiennet would have said nothing about it to-night, so that the cause might never be known. But I, who never approve of concealing the truth, allowed Tiennet to say what he liked. I am well-pleased that he was prevented from entering a fight which is most dangerous for those who do not understand the passes. I am also well-pleased that victory was with my son; for as between an honest man and a bad man, my heart would have gone with the honest man even if he were not blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh. And so let us thank God, who judged the right, and ask him to be ever with us, in this and in all things."

The Head-Woodsman knelt down and offered the evening prayer; which comforted and tranquillized every one of us. Then we separated in hearty friendship to seek some rest.

It was not long before I heard the Head-Woodsman, whose little chamber I shared, snoring loudly, in spite of the anxiety he had undergone. But in his daughter's room Brulette was still crying, unable to recover herself, and evidently ill. I heard her talking to Thérence, and so, not from curiosity but out of pity for her trouble, I put my ear to the partition to hear what I could.

"Come, come," Thérence was saying, in decided tones, "stop crying and you will go to sleep. Tears won't do any good, and, as I told you, I must go; if you wake my father, who does not know he is wounded, he will want to go too, and that may compromise him in this bad business; whereas for me, I risk nothing."

"You terrify me, Thérence; how can you go alone among those muleteers? They frighten me badly enough, but you must let me go with you; I ought to, for I was the cause of the fight. Let us call Tiennet--"

"No, no! neither you nor him! The muleteers won't regret Malzac if he should die,--quite the reverse; but if he had been injured by any one not belonging to their own body, especially a stranger, your friend Tiennet would be in the greatest danger. Let him sleep; it is enough that he tried to meddle in the affair to make it important that he should keep quiet now. As for you, Brulette, you would be very ill-received; you have not, as I have, a family interest to take you there. No one among them would attempt to injure me; they all know me, and they are not afraid to let me into their secrets."

"But do you think you will still find them in the forest? Did not your father say they were going to the uplands, and would not spend the night in this neighborhood?"

"They must wait long enough to dress the wounds. But if I do not find them I shall be all the more easy; for it will prove that my brother is not seriously hurt, and that he could start with them at once."

"Did you see his wound? tell me, dear Thérence, don't hide anything from me."

"I did not see it,--no one saw it; he said he was not hurt, and did not even think of himself. But see, Brulette,--only don't cry out,--here is the handkerchief with which, as I thought, I wiped the perspiration from his face. When I got back here I found it was saturated with blood; and I had to gather all my courage to hide my feelings from my father, who is very anxious, and from Joseph, who is really ill."

Then came silence, as if Brulette, taking or gazing at the handkerchief, was choking. Presently Thérence said: "Give it back to me; I must wash it in the first brook I come to."

"Ah, no!" said Brulette, "let me keep it; I'll hide it safely."

"No, my dear," replied Thérence; "if the authorities get wind of the battle they will come and rummage every place here,--they will even search our persons. They have grown very annoying of late; they want us to give up our old customs, which are dying out of themselves, without their meddling in the matter."

"Alas!" said Brulette, "isn't it to be wished that the custom of these dangerous fights should be given up?"

"Yes, but that depends on many things which the officers of the law cannot or will not do. For instance, they ought to do justice, and that they never do except to those who have the means to pay for it. Is it different in your parts? You don't know? well, I will bet it is the same thing there. Only, the Berrichon blood is sluggish, and your people are patient under the wrongs done them, and so they don't expose themselves to worse. Here it is not so. A man who lives in the forest could not live at all if he did not defend himself against bad men as he would against wolves and other dangerous beasts. Surely you don't blame my brother for having demanded justice of his own people for an insult and a threat he was made to endure before you? Perhaps you are slightly to blame in the matter; think of that, Brulette, before you blame him. If you had not shown such anger and fear at the insults of that muleteer he might have overlooked those to himself, for there never was a gentler man than Huriel or one more ready to forgive; but you held yourself insulted, Huriel promised you reparation, and he kept his word. I am not reproaching you, nor him either; I might have been just as sensitive as you, and as for him, he only did his duty."

"No, no!" said Brulette, beginning to cry again; "He ought not to have exposed himself for me, and I was very wrong to show such pride. I shall never forgive myself if any harm, no matter what, comes to him; and you and your father, who have been so good to me, can never forgive me either."

"Don't fret about that," replied Thérence. "Whatever happens is God's will, and you will never be blamed by us. I know you now, Brulette; I know that you deserve respect. Come, dry your eyes and go to sleep. I hope I shall bring you back good news, and I am certain my brother will be consoled and half-cured if you will let me tell him how sorry you are for his wound."

"I think," said Brulette, "that he will think more of your regard, for there is no woman in the world he could ever love like his own good and brave sister. And, Thérence, that is why I am sorry I made you ask him for that token, and if he had a fancy to have it back, I dare say you would give it to him."

"That's right, Brulette," cried Thérence; "I kiss you for those words. Sleep in peace, I am off."

"I shall not sleep," replied Brulette; "I shall pray to God to help you till I see you safe back again."

I heard Thérence softly leave the lodge, and a minute later I also went out. I could not bring my conscience to allow a beautiful girl to expose herself all alone to the dangers of the night; nor could I, out of fear for myself, withhold what power I had to give her assistance. The people she was going to seek did not seem to me such gentle and good Christians as she made them out to be, and besides, perhaps they were not the only ones in the wood that night. Our dance had attracted beggars, and we know that folks who ask charity don't always show it to others when occasion offers. Moreover,--and I am sure I don't know why,--the red and shining face of the Carmelite friar, who had paid such attention to my wine, kept coming into my head. He struck me as not lowering his eyes very much when he passed near the girls, and I hadn't noticed what became of him in the general hullaballoo.