'C'est mon conseil comme ancien militaire,' observed the commandant; 'et
celui de monsieur comme pretre.'
'Oui,' added the cure, sententiously nodding; 'comme ancien militaire - et
comme pretre.'
At this moment, whilst I was somewhat embarrassed how to answer, in came
one of the monks, a little brown fellow, as lively as a grig, and with an
Italian accent, who threw himself at once into the contention, but in a
milder and more persuasive vein, as befitted one of these pleasant
brethren. Look at him, he said. The rule was very hard; he would have
dearly liked to stay in his own country, Italy - it was well known how
beautiful it was, the beautiful Italy; but then there were no Trappists
in Italy; and he had a soul to save; and here he was.
I am afraid I must be at bottom, what a cheerful Indian critic has dubbed
me, 'a faddling hedonist,' for this description of the brother's motives
gave me somewhat of a shock. I should have preferred to think he had
chosen the life for its own sake, and not for ulterior purposes; and this
shows how profoundly I was out of sympathy with these good Trappists,
even when I was doing my best to sympathise. But to the cure the
argument seemed decisive.
'Hear that!' he cried. 'And I have seen a marquis here, a marquis, a
marquis' - he repeated the holy word three times over - 'and other persons
high in society; and generals. And here, at your side, is this
gentleman, who has been so many years in armies - decorated, an old
warrior. And here he is, ready to dedicate himself to God.'
I was by this time so thoroughly embarrassed that I pled cold feet, and
made my escape from the apartment. It was a furious windy morning, with
a sky much cleared, and long and potent intervals of sunshine; and I
wandered until dinner in the wild country towards the east, sorely
staggered and beaten upon by the gale, but rewarded with some striking
views.
At dinner the Work of the Propagation of the Faith was recommenced, and
on this occasion still more distastefully to me. The priest asked me
many questions as to the contemptible faith of my fathers, and received
my replies with a kind of ecclesiastical titter.
'Your sect,' he said once; 'for I think you will admit it would be doing
it too much honour to call it a religion.'
'As you please, monsieur,' said I. 'La parole est a vous.'
At length I grew annoyed beyond endurance; and although he was on his own
ground and, what is more to the purpose, an old man, and so holding a
claim upon my toleration, I could not avoid a protest against this
uncivil usage. He was sadly discountenanced.
'I assure you,' he said, 'I have no inclination to laugh in my heart. I
have no other feeling but interest in your soul.'
And there ended my conversion. Honest man! he was no dangerous deceiver;
but a country parson, full of zeal and faith. Long may he tread Gevaudan
with his kilted skirts - a man strong to walk and strong to comfort his
parishioners in death! I daresay he would beat bravely through a
snowstorm where his duty called him; and it is not always the most
faithful believer who makes the cunningest apostle.
UPPER GEVAUDAN (continued)
The bed was made, the room was fit,
By punctual eve the stars were lit;
The air was still, the water ran;
No need there was for maid or man,
When we put up, my ass and I,
At God's green caravanserai.
OLD PLAY.
ACROSS THE GOULET
The wind fell during dinner, and the sky remained clear; so it was under
better auspices that I loaded Modestine before the monastery gate. My
Irish friend accompanied me so far on the way. As we came through the
wood, there was Pere Apollinaire hauling his barrow; and he too quitted
his labours to go with me for perhaps a hundred yards, holding my hand
between both of his in front of him. I parted first from one and then
from the other with unfeigned regret, but yet with the glee of the
traveller who shakes off the dust of one stage before hurrying forth upon
another. Then Modestine and I mounted the course of the Allier, which
here led us back into Gevaudan towards its sources in the forest of
Mercoire. It was but an inconsiderable burn before we left its guidance.
Thence, over a hill, our way lay through a naked plateau, until we
reached Chasserades at sundown.
The company in the inn kitchen that night were all men employed in survey
for one of the projected railways. They were intelligent and
conversible, and we decided the future of France over hot wine, until the
state of the clock frightened us to rest. There were four beds in the
little upstairs room; and we slept six. But I had a bed to myself, and
persuaded them to leave the window open.
'He, bourgeois; il est cinq heures!' was the cry that wakened me in the
morning (Saturday, September 28th). The room was full of a transparent
darkness, which dimly showed me the other three beds and the five
different nightcaps on the pillows. But out of the window the dawn was
growing ruddy in a long belt over the hill-tops, and day was about to
flood the plateau. The hour was inspiriting; and there seemed a promise
of calm weather, which was perfectly fulfilled. I was soon under way
with Modestine. The road lay for a while over the plateau, and then
descended through a precipitous village into the valley of the Chassezac.
This stream ran among green meadows, well hidden from the world by its
steep banks; the broom was in flower, and here and there was a hamlet
sending up its smoke.
