The outlaw of Camargue

Chapter I. Chapter Il

Father-ir-Law and Son-in-Law, 34

CHAPTER in.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

The Pilgrimage, ••••••• X2o

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VIL Maritime Cam argue, 178

CHAPTER VIIL The '^Ferrade," ••••••• 204

CHAPTER IX.

S

6 CONTENTS.

PAGB

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

THE OUTLAW OF CAMARGUE.

CHAPTER L

MADAME THERESINE.

HE was in the garden, which was separated from

^ the highroad by a hedge of prickly furze, gathering HHes and roses, pinks and jasmines, all pearly with dew, and throwing them into one of those light osier baskets which in Provence are called canastelles. All the while she was singing joyously in the musical dialect of the Languedoc, and her song was one known to all the magnanarelles :

** O Magali, ma tant amado, Mete la teste au fenestroun : Escouto un pau aquesto aubado De tambourin e de viouloun !"*

* **0 Magali, my much-beloved, Show thyself at thy window, And hark to the tambours and viols That now serenade thee !"

MADAME TH^R^SINE.

Some one from behind the hedge replied, in a voice as fresh and joyous as her own

** El plen d'estello aperamount/ L'auro es toumbado, Mai lis estello paliran, Quand te veiran ! " *

Santa Maria! it is you, Monsieur Frederic!" cried the first singer, standing on tiptoe, the better to see the handsome young officer of the Queen's household who, in undress uniform and with a light portmanteau strapped to his saddle-girths, had drawn up his horse close to the hedge behind which the fair Provengale was gathering in her odorous harvest.

As you see, dear Th6r6sine," replied the young man; adding, Is Germaine in the garden?

Neither in the garden nor in the house,'* answered Theresine. Of course you were not expected to-day, and Mile. Germaine went yesterday to Aries.''

Alone?**

No, with your mother and the Commander.*' That is pleasant,'* said the young officer, evidently disappointed. Can you tell me when they will be back ?"

* ** The heaven above is full of stars, The wind has fallen.

But the stars must pale In seeing thee !"

MADAME TH^R^SINE.

To-day, certainly, and most probably in aot hour."

I am tempted to go and meet them. Did they mention by what road they would come back ?

They mentioned nothing about it; but you: know, if it is not by Saint-Gilles, or by les Saintes, or by the banks of the Valcares, it will surely be through the fields.**

That is to say, by one of the four cardinal points,*' said Frederic, who, more and more annoyed, decapitated the flowering heads of the furze with the end of his whip. And really it is fortunate there are no more, because I should be still more puzzled which to take.**

What would you? You know Mile. Germaine, and are aware that she never goes over the same road twice if she can help it.**

Ma foiy it was well worth my while to kill my horses, and to ride post-haste here from Lyons, for the sake of being a day sooner and taking my people by surprise! I need not have hurried so much, and might have stopped to pay a flying visit at Lyons, to our cousins the de Bl^signans, It would have saved me that journey which I have to take in a few days.**

In a few days?** cried the Provengale. You are not off your horse yet, and you talk of departmg.

To return soon."

If Mile. Ren6e will let you.*'

MADAME TH^RESINE.

I do not see very clearly why she should prevent me. Ill as she is, she cannot have much need of me, especially when she keeps herself shut up between the four walls of her room, and has to take tisanes/*

Perhaps she will go out more than you think,*' said Theresine, with a malicious smile, which she convcealed by bending over her basket of flowers. I should not be surprised if she came here to ride horseback, hunt partridges, and assist at our ferrades,''

Ma foi, I know her so little,'' said Frederic, that I have no idea whether she has these amazon tastes or not, but I fancy she is quiet in her ways; and from what Germaine, who was three years with her at the convent in Avignon, told me, I think she is too frail and delicate to find much charm in our way of living.*'

Theresine smiled again.

And are you as great a hunter and fisher as you used to be? " she asked.

I am keener than ever about such amusements," said he; and now that I have a six-months leave, I dream of nothing but duck-covers, and fish-ponds, and all the rest."

Oh, then you have come back in good time. The quail are passing here now in great numbers, and I heard yesterday that bustards had been seen on the Island of Tete-de-Miole."

''Bustards were really seen there?" cried the

MADAME THER^SINE.

II young officer, his hunting instincts gaining the upper hand. I am delighted; they are royal game, a hundred times better value than all the pheasants of the parks of Versailles or Fontainebleau. To-morrow at latest, having meantime embraced my mother, I shall set out with your father for the Valcares ; the weather is superb for shooting in the marshes, and between our good Bernard and myself I hope we shall bring back a load of game/'

My father would like nothing better than to accompany you on this pleasure-party,'' said the young woman, ^*for you know that a musket never weighed much upon his shoulders, and that a bag was never too heavy for him; but just now it will be impossible for him to do it."

What do you mean ? Will his legs refuse to carry him ? "

Pecker e ! for three weeks he has walked on crutches, and now his rheumatism keeps him confined to his chair."

Poor Bernard ! he must have been imprudent in some way — spent too many nights a Vespere.''

He is no longer young," said Th^resine, sadly shaking her head.

Bah! he is scarcely sixty," said Frederic. We shall have many a good day's sport together yet. Unfortunately I do not know whom I shall find in the meantime to take his place in managing the boat and all that."

MADAME TH^R^SINE.

My husband will take his place/' Your husband? " cried Frederic in astonishment. You are joking. Show me your hand." She burst out laughing, raised her hand above the hedge, and showed a plain band of gold upon her finger.

So you are really married ?

More than two months ago. Did you not know ? "

The first I heard of it ; it was a pretty trick for you to play me, getting married without saying a word to your foster-brother!

My husband begged the Commander to inform you of our marriage, and I was sure that Mile. Germaine had written to you about it.'*

Neither of them gave me an inkling of it. Germaine, because she is always in such a hurry to tell the news that she often fancies she has told it in advance; and my uncle only takes up his pen to write his rascal of a nephew a homily on the duties of his profession."

The nephew would much prefer a roll of louis d'or."

Oh, much indeed, or even a handful of pistoles," replied Frederic. But that's not the question just now. What is your husband's name ? "

He is a worthy lad of your acquaintance — Marius."

What Marius? There are as many of the name here as there are quail in the Crau.'*

MADAME THl^RESINE.

This is Marius from the Gommandery.*' There are ten at the Commandery/' This is the one who used to hunt with you.'* Ah, Marius the huntsman, my uncle's adopted son, my rival at the chase. Yes, I know him; a worthy youth whom I used to like very much, but who did not like me.*'

How can you say such a thing. Monsieur Frederic cried Th^resine. He often spoke of you, and I can assure you —

That he hates me because I used to have better shots than he/'

On the contrary, he likes and admires you." Ta ! ta! ta! myTh6r6sine; unless he has changed, he would gladly send me to Old Nick, ever since I brought down the partridges which he had just missed ; he never forgave me."

It is true that he prides himself upon his reputation as a huntsman."

" Ha! ha! we are getting at the truth. But you see I have a double crow to pluck with you. You married without telling me a word about it, and married my enemy. However, fortunately there are the ponds and the marsh of Grand-Mar between him and me."

We do not live at the Commandery now," said Th^r^sine, blushing.

''Ah, indeed! But since I find you here, your dwelling cannot be very far off," said Frederic, who,

MADAME THERESINE.

for the greater convenience of conversation, had passed his leg over the head and shoulders of his steed, and sat carelessly upon the edge of the saddle. Where are you living now ? "

Here/' smiled the Provengale. My father is not able to do the work that he used to, looking after the timber, game, and all that. Your mother took Marius in his place.''

Better and better; in my absence you install the enemy here; there is only one thing more to be done."

What is that ?"

Put us out, and take our places."

Monsieur Frederic," said the young woman, her eyes full of tears, I know very well that you are jesting; but do not say that either to my father or Marius: my husband would leave the house at once."

Come, come, you little goose, " said Frederic, you are turning jest into earnest. Dry your eyes with that rose, and go on with your song. You Provengale women are as giddy as grasshoppers, and should be always singing like them."

You see, it is—"

I see you are my sister, that your husband is a good friend of mine, that we will have some fine sport together, and that, as I am somewhat rusty after these months among the Queen's Dragoons, he will have to give me a few lessons."

Meanwhile I have left you sitting on your horse,"

MADAME THER]^SINE.

said Th^r^sine, deeply moved, and have never thought of opening the gate for you. It was very thoughtless of me ; I will run and draw the bolt now."

No, no, stay; it is not worth while. I will get in as I can. So you fasten the gates here, now ?

Only the gate of the courtyard; but the other gates are too low for your horse.'*

Bah ! " said the officer, my horse, as you call this sorry beast, can pass anywhere ; and for myself, when I find gates too low I try this plan."

So saying, and without the slightest hesitation, he rose in his saddle and, resting his hands lightly on either side of it, sprang with one bound into the garden.

Good heavens ! " cried Th6r^sine, you do not seem to have grown very rusty yet. But at all events you were near putting both feet into my basket."

Frederic laughed.

Shall I help you to gather flowers?" he said. I have a splendid method."

And he began to cut off their heads with his ridingwhip.

Ah, stop, Monsieur Frederic, you will spoil all ! " cried the Proven^ale, in a supplicating tone.

What are you going to do with all these flowers ? " asked Frederic. You have enough now to decorate the whole house."

i6

MADAME THiSr^SINE,

Do you know what day this is ? "

Par bleu ! it's the twenty- third of May,** Pardon me, the twenty-fourth/' I believe you are right, but it makes no difference."

On the contrary, it makes a great deal." Why ?"

Because the twenty- fourth is the eve of the twenty-fifth."

It is something like, ' a quarter of an hour before his death M. de La Palisse was still alive.' I begin to think you are making fun of me,"

You know very well that I would not take suck a liberty, Monsieur Frederic."

I am not so sure about that. But what connection have these flowers with the twenty-fifth oi May?"

Only that to-morrow morning your mother, Mile. Germaine, the Commander, and others set out for les Saintes."

Oh, I forgot! to-morrow is the Feast of the Three Marys."

Do they not celebrate the feast on that day in Paris ? " asked Ther^sine.

They do not concern themselves much, either at Paris or Versailles, " said the young man, laughing, about our poor Marys."

Yet they are great saints," said Th^resine, indignantly.

MADAME THISr^SINE.

I do not say anything to the contrary/* said Frederic, but no one knows of them in Paris."

Then your Paris is a country of savages and heathens/' said Ther^sine.

The epithet savage*' applied by the peasant of Camargue to the wits and savants of the court made Frederic laugh heartily.

I hope you have not become like them/' said Th6r6sine, regarding him anxiously.

No, no, do not be afraid/' said Frederic, seriously. No, thank God, I still hold, and will always hold, I hope, to my faith, my religion, my family, my country, my dear Camargue; and I assure you my greatest desire is to come back some day to lead the same life here that my father so honorably led before."

' ' I wish my father could hear you say that, ' ' said Ther^sine. '*You know. Monsieur Frederic, how warmly attached he is to your family; since you have been gone he often says to us : ' It would be a great misfortune if our good master were to leave the country; a great misfortune for Camargue, a great misfortune for him likewise.' "

Why is Bernard afraid that I would leave the country ? "

Because the nobility all leave their domains to go and live in Paris or Versailles. He says the castles are vacated one after the other, and that the court attracts nobles as a mirror attracts larks."

i8

Your father is right, Th6resine. Every one rushes thither ; the provinces are deserted ; the lords forget the peasants, the peasants forget their lord's; the bond which unites them one to the other is broken by prolonged absence. And as they do not see one another, they cease to care for one another. To-day it is indifference, to-morrow it may be hatred ; who knows where it will end ? Perhaps the sons of those who would have died to defend their lords will be the first to set fire to their castles/'

If the lords see all this, why do they continue to abandon their manors ? * ' asked the Provengale, | who had suddenly become sad and serious, while dis- | tractedly plucking to pieces the petals of a rose which had fallen from her basket.

Ask the moths why they come every evening to singe their wings in the flame of the lamp. Glitter attracts men as it does insects; and if you knew the allurements of Paris and Versailles, if you were present at the balls, reviews, banquets, if you could see that magnificent palace of Versailles with its fountains, statues, immense gardens, marble galleries, salons resplendent with gold, its great assemblies, its royal receptions, brilliant equipages, bustle, animation, life, if you could hear the clink of gold upon the gaming-tables, round which stand lords and ladies superbly dressed —

I like our Camargue better/' interrupted Th6- r^sine, shaking her head.

MADAME THISr^SINE.

Perhaps you are right/' said Frederic; and frankly, now that I am away from it all, I will enjoy going with you to-morrow to the Saintes-Maries> trotting on a country mare, much better than galloping, in splendid uniform, behind the King's carriage when he takes his daily drive to Marly or Fontainebleau.*'

''Then you will go with us to the pilgrimage,*' cried the Provengale, her face brightening at the thought. '' You are right; it is better to honor God and His saints than to mock at religion like the fine gentlemen of Versailles, as the good Commander often told me/'

My uncle is not far from the truth," said the traveller. '' But all this is no reason why I should waste time chattering here with you, instead of trying to get the dust off my face and clothes, while you are having my trunks sent up to my room and finding me something for breakfast."

Pecker e I you have not breakfasted yet, at this hour of the day ? I thought you had stopped at Aries, at the Inn of the Lapin qui Saute,'' ^

'' Certainly it would have been the wisest thing to do ; but on arriving there I found no horses in the stable, so, despite the entreaties of Master Jean, the innkeeper, I came on to Trinquetaille, where I left my horse, half dead, at the other side of the bridge,

* Leaping Hare.

MADAME THERESINE.

with Guillaume le Ragot, the farmer of Little Argens, who promised to send it to me by the royal post, and who gave me the wretched mare upon which I managed to reach here, following the Grande Montlongue."

You mean the Petite,*' said Theresine, who, with her canastelle of flowers on her head and one hand upon her hip, was preparing to return to the house. ^* No, I tell you it was the Grande/*

Then you crossed the marsh of Grand-Mar

Of course; it was the shortest way/*

It is well for you that there has been no rain of late or you would not have got out of it very easily/*

The marsh and I are old friends,** responded the young man, laughing, and it was in splendid order to-day/*

You might have had some rough work there; the bulls are out to-day/*

What do you take me for?** cried Frederic, laughing. Do you think that because I wear a dragoon's uniform I have become a coward ? **

I do not say that; but with a bad horse and one which probably does not belong to the country, if a bull had given you chase you might have had a good deal of trouble to escape.**

My * horse,* as you persist in calling it, is an old country mare which was bred in a farmyard among the cattle; and besides, the guardians are there, mounted, armed with their spears, and taking every precautiorb

MADAME THl^RlfiSINE.

Your father would laugh at the idea of my going round the marsh for the sake of prudence. Would you have done it ?

The young woman laughed, and both entered the chateau, which was almost deserted just then. Whilst Ther^sine set down her basket of flowers and took off the large felt hat of stiff and ungraceful form, such as was then worn by all women from Durance to Var, Frederic proceeded to his room and began his toilet.

The southern peoples all have an exaggerated form of speech, likely to produce confusion of ideas in all who have not lived among them. In Italy the merest tourist hears himself constantly addressed as** your excellency''; a ragged Spaniard mounted on a lame donkey is called senor caballero ; and in Camargue the name chateau is often given to a dilapidated farmhouse which is sometimes scarcely habitable.

It is true that if these rare habitations scattered over an almost uncultivated country are less than remarkable in themselves, the words of Cardinal Maury may be well applied to them: ** I am little of myself, but much by comparison.**

Now, stone houses in an island where there is not a single quarry, but where the soil is so marshy and sandy that it contains not even a pebble, are a luxury indulged in only by rich proprietors. The other inhabitants dwell either in simple cabins, which are in themselves, comparatively speaking, a luxury,

MADAME THERlfisiNE.

— for wood is far from being plentiful, — or, like the herdsmen (called also '^guardians''), lead an almost nomad life, sleeping under low, pointed tents of a sugar-loaf form which they carry with them from one pasture-ground to another, and which, seen from afar in the naked and level plain, look like gray anthills scattered over the highroads or along the banks of streams.

As for chateaux properly so called — except Ah baron, a sort of citadel built upon the banks of the Lesser Rhone, not so much to protect navigation as to levy contributions upon vessels coming or going from Saint-Gilles in the days when that town had an importance long since obscured — the less said the better.

There were no more villages. One town alone had dared to venture within the delta, and, finding there a rock quite close to the mouth of the river, had perched itself, or rather intrenched itself, upon it, growing up around a church, which is itself a fortress, erected by the piety of the faithful over the tomb of Saint Mary to protect it from the violence and rapine of the Saracens.

The Chateau Rouge belonged to the family of de Marcoiran, and it stood in the garden which Frederic had so unceremoniously entered, a modest habitation, surrounded by the buildings necessary for the cultivation of a property composed chiefliy of sandy and marshy land, rather than a sumptuous dwelling.

MADAME THl^RlfiSINE.

Thi? habitation was situated upon the banks of the Valcares, a stream which might be called an inland sea, for it covered more than six thousand four hundred and eighty acres. The dwelling, separated from the rustic chapel of Notre Dame d'Amour by the sanitary canal known as the Petite Montlongue, formed with its vast orchard of many varieties of fruit-trees and its little forest of pines, a sort of oasis or verdant island. This island is situated almost at the central point of the triangle of seventy-three thousand acres known as the Island of Camargue and marks the division of the two branches of the Rhone which from Aries flow into the sea.

Upon the ground-floor, excepting the side which gave upon the river, where nothing else reached the eye, the view was bounded by the green hedge of furze enclosing the garden; from the first floor the panorama was more extensive ; from the second and last it was limitless. On one side, the eye, passing unobstructed over the bluish surface of the lake, perceived on the horizon the shining thread of the Mediterranean, that lay like a band of silver. On the other, passing over the narrow line of meadows or harvest-fields which bordered the canal, the view lost itself in the immense flat grayish plain dotted with reedy ponds, or with the white peaks qf the tents of the guardians, or with dark and moving spots, which are the bulls wandering in herds over the half-dried marshes.

MADAME THERESINE.

Each season this landscape, which at first sight seems dull and inanimate, changes not only its features but its color. In the spring and autumn the waters of the canal, swollen by heavy rains, fill the inland pools and increase them into great sheets of water, upon which the north wind sets in motion, like green meadows, the various kinds of reeds and rushes which are so precious to the inhabitants. For they use them not only as food for their cattle, but carefully gather them to form a thatch for their huts and a wicker-work for chairs. They also manufacture from them rude but impermeable mats, under which the salt-makers shelter their store of salt.

Everything is green then in the plain, and the woolly beasts come down by hundreds into the low grounds, till the heat drives them back to the mountains, to browse in the fallow lands upon the margal, or ray-grass, which is the best grazing for lambs.

This is eminently the season for shooting in the marshes. Coots, curlews, and woodcock swarm in the rose-banks, where, walking about on their long legs, are flocks of red flamingoes, which are always hard to approach, because their sentinels keep such good watch. It is beautiful, however, to see them rise into the blue heavens, displaying their great flaming wings and describing immense circles.

Then, too, Camargue is bedecked with all her bravery of flowers and foliage; long grasses spring from the sodden earth, and plants peculiar to salt

MADAME THlfiRlfeSINE.

meadows, thistles with yellow or blue flowers, salt-wort with its purple branches, camomile-flowers with their glaucous color, cinquefoil shining like gold, and asters bright as silver, all enamelling the humid plain traversed by troops of snow-white horses or herds oi jet-black bulls.

In summer the scene changes completely. Dried up under the fiery heat of the dog-star, which it is impossible to temper in this unsheltered plain, the marshes disappear, leaving no traces but pools of stagnant and brackish water exhaling a malarial miasma. The reeds turn yellow; the dry earth assumes a dull slate-color, upon which the salt, by the effect of a rapid evaporation, settles in great white spots, or forms that effervescence which is so fatal to all vegetation. Its snowy surface crackles under the feet and retains their imprint, or comes off leaving exposed a brilliant surface.

For several weeks there is now a sort of factitious life in this dead region; it is harvest-time, and bands of gleaners and reapers come across the Rhone, scythe in hand, to cut down the rushes or, hastening into the cultivated fields, gather thence the abundant harvest.

An endless train of wagons furrows the plain and is enshrouded in clouds of warm dust. Rushes and meadow-grass fall under the keen blade and are formed into sheaves and heaped upon the carts. But time presses, the heat grows suffocating, a malarial

MADAME THER^SINE, vapor enshrouds the whole peninsula infested byswarms of mosquitoes, whose sting leaves neither man nor beast a moment's rest.

In this fiery atmosphere during the day, and in the poisonous vapors during the night, the work goes on, with neither rest nor intermission until the harvest is done; then the drivers crack their whips, and the eager multitude depart with their booty, like a miser carrying off a treasure.

Left to its isolated and pallid population, stripped of its rushes and its harvests, Camargue assumes a strange aspect which is not without a certain grandeur. But it is no longer France, it is an almost fantastic region, a bare level plain, gray and dusty, encircled by the two arms of the Rhone, which embrace without fertilizing it. It seems like a bit of Africa grown colder, bereft of its palm-trees, and where the maestral, or northwest wind of the Mediterranean, replaces the sirocco. But it has retained its Saharran aspect, its broad melancholy horizon, its stunted shrubbery, its monotonous silence, its rare oases, in the shade of which are solitary edifices, a species of Arab blockhouse, low and whitewashed ; its mirages, which are almost as frequent as in the desert, and which raise from the midst of this desolation magical landscapes, as vague as a dream, as fleeting as an illusion of the senses.

All this is strange, but of a drowsy, dreamystrangeness which does not excite the imagination.

MADAME THERESINE.

The eye wanders over the level plain, finding no object upon which to rest. The feet of the horses, which are usually of Saracen origin, noiselessly raise a cloud of almost imperceptible dust. Sometimes in the distance a gray smoke arises from the gray earth, marking the passage of a flock of sheep. These sheep, from their color, cannot be distinguished from the plain upon which they vainly seek for nourishment.

It is hard to conceive such utter sterility; yet there is water at a very short distance down in this dry soil. The island is furrowed with a network of streams ; sometimes a sunbeam brightens the surface of a pond in the vicinity of which there is not a single tree. For this water is brackish; instead of being favorable to vegetation it destroys it, and, instead of turf upon the banks, the water, in ebbing, leaves only a salty substance, the whiteness and brittleness of which betray its origin. Rain has the same effect ; in Camargue it only makes salt spring up from the earth.

So that, in truth, water and salt share the empire of this sterile region, and make it, each in turn, wear their livery. To live in such a country certain special qualities are evidently necessary, for these two traits, apparently contradictory, form the basis of the native character: an indefatigable patience to triumph over the difficulties of the soil, and an indomitable courage to control the cattle, which are

MADAME TH^R^SINE.

in an almost savage state. It would seem that the difficulty af living in so unproductive a region would soon depopulate it, but the contrary is the case.

Man is born for struggle; it makes him hardy, becomes second nature to him, and forms a bond which unites him more strongly than any other to the earth which he waters with the sweat of his brow.

Nothing in the world could tempt Ther^sine to leave the banks of the Valcares without prospect of a speedy return. There was she born; there had she grown to womanhood ; and for her the desolate wildness of these marshes had a greater charm than the richest and most fertile territory upon the Rhone.

Two or three times a year she was reluctantly induced to visit Aries, the Paris of la Crau and of Camargue. The tumult of so many people, the animation of the streets, the ringing of bells, the crowded thoroughfares, wearied her; she could not breathe, there was not air enough for her, in this brilliant flower of the desert. Her eyes needed the widestretching horizons of her country; her lungs required its broad acres perfumed by the sea. Disdaining the admiring glances which her beauty attracted, she leaped, light as a bird, to the crupper of a Camargue pony, behind her father, joyful because she was returning to her free solitude.