r.

Towards the end of March this curious cocoon yielded up a female of the
Lesser Peacock, which was immediately sequestered under a wire-gauze
cover in my study. I opened the window to allow news of the event to
reach the surrounding country, and left it open so that such visitors as
presented themselves should find free access to the cage. The captive
clung to the wire gauze and did not move for a week.

She was a superb creature, this prisoner of mine, with her suit of brown
velvet, crossed by undulating lines. The neck was surrounded by white
fur; there was a carmine spot at the extremity of the upper wings, and
four great eyes in which were grouped, in concentric crescents, black,
white, red, and yellow ochre: almost the colouring of the Great Peacock,
but more vivid. Three or four times in my life I had encountered this
butterfly, so remarkable for its size and its costume. The cocoon I had
recently seen for the first time; the male I had never seen. I only knew
that, according to the books, it was half the size of the female, and
less vividly coloured, with orange-yellow on the lower wings.

Would he appear, the elegant unknown, with waving plumes; the butterfly
I had never yet seen, so rare does the Lesser Peacock seem to be in our
country? Would he, in some distant hedge, receive warning of the bride
who waited on my study table? I dared to hope it, and I was right. He
arrived even sooner than I had hoped.

Noon struck as we were sitting down to table, when little Paul, delayed
by his absorption in the expected event, suddenly ran to rejoin us, his
cheeks glowing. Between his fingers we saw the fluttering wings of a
handsome butterfly, caught but a moment before, while it was hovering in
front of my study. He showed it me, questioning me with his eyes.

"Aha!" I cried, "this is precisely the pilgrim we are waiting for. Fold
your napkin and come and see what happens. We will dine later."

Dinner was forgotten before the marvels that came to pass. With
inconceivable punctuality the butterflies hastened to meet the magical
call of the captive. With tortuous flight they arrived one by one. All
came from the north. This detail is significant. A week earlier there
had been a savage return of the winter. The _bise_ blew tempestuously,
killing the early almond blossom. It was one of those ferocious storms
which in the South commonly serve as a prelude to the spring. But the
temperature had now suddenly softened,