ving, I am your man; I have an excellent cook. I may even say that I
have two for the present; one coming in and the other going out; it is a
conjunction; the result is, a contest of skill, an academic tourney, of
which you will assist me in adjudging the prize! Come! sir," he added,
laughing ingenuously at his own chattering, "it's settled, isn't it? I'm
going to carry you off."

Happy Paul, thrice happy is the man who can say No! Alone, he is really
master of his time, of his fortune, and of his honor. One should be able
to say No! even to a beggar, even to a woman, even to an amiable old man,
under penalty of surrendering at hazard his charity, his dignity, and his
independence. For want of a manly No, how much misery, how many downfalls,
how many crimes since Adam!

While I was considering in my own mind the invitation which had just been
extended to me, these thoughts crowded in my brain; I recognized their
profound wisdom, and I said Yes! Fatal word, through which I lost my
paradise, exchanging a retreat wholly to my taste--peaceful, laborious,
romantic, and free--for the stiffness of a residence where society
displays all the fury of its insipid dissipations.

I demanded the necessary time for effecting my removal, and Monsieur de
Malouet left me, after grasping my hand cordially, declaring that he was
extremely pleased with me, and that he was going to stimulate his two
cooks to give me a triumphant reception. "I am going," he said in
conclusion, "to announce to them an artist, a poet: that'll work up their
imagination."

Toward five o'clock, two valets from the chateau came to take charge of my
light baggage, and to advise me that a carriage was waiting for me on top
of the hills. I bade farewell to my cell; I thanked my hosts; and I kissed
their little urchins, all besmeared and ill-kempt as they were. These kind
people seemed to see me going with regret. I felt, myself, an
extraordinary and unaccountable sadness. I know not what strange sentiment
attached me to that valley, but I left it with an aching heart, as one
leaves his native country.

More to-morrow, Paul, for I am exhausted.

CHAPTER IV.

THE LITTLE COUNTESS.

_26th September._

The chateau of Malouet is a massive and rather vulgar construction, which
dates some one hundred years back. Fine avenues, a court of honor of a
handsome style, and an ancient park impart to it, however, an aspect truly
seigneurial.

The old marquis came