nd of your horse's
hoofs, the smiling face of a young girl peeps out from the ivy, whitened
with the dust from the road. If you climb a hillside covered with vines,
a light column of smoke shows you that there is a chimney at your feet;
for the very rock is inhabited, and families of vine-dressers breathe
in its caverns, sheltered at night by the kindly earth which they
laboriously cultivate during the day. The good people of Touraine are as
simple as their life, gentle as the air they breathe, and strong as the
powerful earth they dig. Their countenances, like their characters,
have something of the frankness of the true people of St. Louis; their
chestnut locks are still long and curve around their ears, as in the
stone statues of our old kings; their language is the purest French,
with neither slowness, haste, nor accent--the cradle of the language is
there, close to the cradle of the monarchy.

But the left bank of the stream has a more serious aspect; in the
distance you see Chambord, which, with its blue domes and little
cupolas, appears like some great city of the Orient; there is
Chanteloup, raising its graceful pagoda in the air. Near these a simpler
building attracts the eyes of the traveller by its magnificent situation
and imposing size; it is the chateau of Chaumont. Built upon the highest
hill of the shore, it frames the broad summit with its lofty walls and
its enormous towers; high slate steeples increase their loftiness, and
give to the building that conventual air, that religious form of all
our old chateaux, which casts an aspect of gravity over the landscape
of most of our provinces. Black and tufted trees surround this ancient
mansion, resembling from afar the plumes that encircled the hat of King
Henry. At the foot of the hill, connected with the chateau by a narrow
path, lies a pretty village, whose white houses seem to have sprung
from the golden sand; a chapel stands halfway up the hill; the lords
descended and the villagers ascended to its altar-the region of
equality, situated like a neutral spot between poverty and riches, which
have been too often opposed to each other in bitter conflict.

Here, one morning in the month of June, 1639, the bell of the chateau
having, as usual, rung at midday, the dinner-hour of the family,
occurrences of an unusual kind were passing in this ancient dwelling.
The numerous domestics observed that in repeating the morning prayers
before the assembled household,