y to Saint-Romans--a
rush of horses and carriages, of fireworks, and of banquets. He had gone
in the suite of his monarch, having scarcely time to say good-bye to his
old mother, to whom there remained of this great joy only a few pictures
in the illustrated papers, showing Bernard Jansoulet arriving at the
castle with Ahmed, and presenting his mother. Is it not thus that kings
and queens have their family feelings exploited in the journals? There
was also a cedar of Lebanon, brought from the other end of the world, a
regular mountain of a tree, whose transport had been as difficult and as
costly as that of Cleopatra's needle, and whose erection as a souvenir
of the royal visit by dint of men, money, and teams had shaken the very
foundations. But this time, at least, knowing him to be in France for
several months--perhaps for good--she hoped to have her Bernard to
herself. And now he returned to her, one fine evening, enveloped in the
same triumphant glory, in the same official display, surrounded by a
crowd of counts, of marquises, of fine gentlemen from Paris, filling,
they and their servants, the two large wagonettes she had sent to meet
them at the little station of Giffas on the other side of the Rhone.

"Come, give me a kiss, my dear mother. There is nothing to be ashamed
of in giving a good hug to the boy you haven't seen all these years.
Besides, all these gentlemen are our friends. This is the Marquis
de Monpavon, the Marquis de Bois d'Hery. Ah! the time is past when
I brought you to eat vegetable soup with us, little Cabassu and
Jean-Batiste Bompain. You know M. de Gery? With my old friend
Cardailhac, whom I now present, that makes the first batch. There are
others to come. Prepare yourself for a fine upsetting. We entertain the
Bey in four days."

"The Bey again!" said the old woman, astounded. "I thought he was dead."

Jansoulet and his guests could not help laughing at this comical terror,
accentuated by her southern intonation.

"It is another, mamma. There is always a Bey--thank goodness. But
don't be afraid. You won't have so much bother this time. Our friend
Cardailhac has undertaken everything. We are going to have magnificent
celebrations. In the meantime, quick--dinner and our rooms. Our
Parisians are worn out."

"Everything is ready, my son," said the old lady quietly, stiff and
straight under her Cambrai cap, the head-dress with its yellowing flaps,
which she never left off even for great occa