ts fallen to decay, the brushwood and all sorts
of obstacles, to the foot of the mass of towers built one within
another, which form the donjon-keep. Louise was obliged more than once,
in scrambling up the rocks, to give me her hand and lean upon my
shoulder. Even when the way was less rugged, she did not put aside her
unconstrained and confiding manner; her timid and intense reserve began
to soften a little.

Madame Taverneau, who is not a sylph, hung with all her weight to
Alfred's arm, and what surprises me is that she did not pull it off.

We made our way through the under-brush, masses of rubbish and crumbling
walls, to the platform of the massive keep, from whence we saw, besides
the superb view, far away in the distance, Madame Taverneau's yellow
shawl, shining through the foliage like a huge beetle.

At this height, so far above the world, intoxicated by the fresh air,
her cheek dyed a deeper red, her hair loosened from its severe
fastenings, Louise was dazzlingly and radiantly beautiful; her bonnet
had fallen off and was only held by the ribbon strings; a handful of
daisies escaped from her careless grasp.

"What a pity," said I, "that I have not a familiar spirit at my service!
We should soon see the stones replaced, the towers rise from the grass
where they have slept so long, and raise their heads in the sunlight;
the drawbridge slide on its hinges, and men-at-arms in dazzling
cuirasses pass and repass behind the battlements. You should sit beside
me as my chatelaine, in the great hall, under a canopy emblazoned with
armorial bearings, the centre of a brilliant retinue of ladies in
waiting, archers and varlets. You should be the dove of this kite's
nest!"

This fancy made her smile, and she replied: "Instead of amusing yourself
in rebuilding the past, look at the magnificent scene stretched out
before you."

In fact, the sky was gorgeous; the sun was sinking behind the horizon,
in a hamlet of clouds, ruined and abandoned to the fury of the names of
sunset; the darkened hills were shrouded in violet tints; through the
light mists of the valley the river shone at intervals like the polished
surface of a Damascus blade. The blue smoke ascended from the chimneys
of the village of Andelys, nestling at the foot of the mountain; the
silvery tones of the bells ringing the Angelus came to us on the evening
breeze; Venus shone soft and pure in the western sky. Madame Taverneau
had not yet joined us; Alfred's fa