LI E> RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 523 
 GT7h 
 
 1925 
 
 V.I 
 
Li 
 
 flIGH-WAYS AND BY-WAYS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
Punted by J. SMITH, rue Montmorency, No. 1C. 
 
HIGH-WAYS AND BY-WAYS ; 
 
 OK, 
 
 TALES OF THE ROADSIDE, 
 
 PICKED UP IN THE FRENCH PROVINCES. 
 
 BY 
 
 A WALKING GENTLEMAN. 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 " I hate the man who can travel from Dan lo Beersheba, and says, 
 TLs all barren." Sterne. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PARIS: 
 PUBLISHED BY A. AND W. GALIGNANI, 
 
 AT THE ENGLISH, FRENCH, ITALIAN, GERMAN, AND SPANISH 
 LIBRARY, 18, RUE VIVIENNE. 
 
 1825. 
 
8? 
 
 G-mk. 
 
 is*5" to 
 
 v.x 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY COPPINGER, ESQ. 
 OF THE INNER TEMPLE. 
 
 My dear Coppinger, 
 
 The first series of these Tales was inscribed to the 
 friend at whose suggestion they were written ; and this 
 new attempt cannot be more fitly dedicated than to 
 you, who have been the companion of so many of my 
 rambles (though perhaps none of those here recorded), 
 from the summit of the Pyrenees to the foot of Mont- 
 martre. 
 
 Those who understand the pains of authorship, be 
 it practised on ever so trifling a scale, can appreciate 
 the counterbalancing pleasure of paying such a com- 
 pliment as I intend you, by putting your name in 
 front of even this light performance. But those only 
 who know you can comprehend the inadequacy of 
 such a tribute, as a proof of my friendship. 
 Yours, 
 For the first time in print, 
 
 But as ever in heart, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 iOth December, 1824. 
 
APOLOGETICAL NOTE 
 
 A word of apology and explanation is due here, 
 not so much to my English readers (who wouU 
 perhaps pardon, unsolicited, a little liberty taken 
 with a foreign language), as to a body much more 
 critical and tenacious — the French Academy. Any 
 one of the strict grammarians of The Institute who 
 might happen to see the title of this tale, would be, 
 no doubt, indignant at a foreigner having presum- 
 ed to invent a word for which the Dictionary gives 
 no authority. There is certainly no such substan- 
 tive as Vouce, nor does the verb admit of such a 
 formation. The only way in which a French 
 writer could construct a title correctly, saying what 
 1 meant to express by mine, would be by the phrase, 
 
APOLOGETICAL NOTE. 
 
 l( L'Enfant Voue au Blanc," "La Fille Vouee au 
 Blanc/' or some such. But as neither the word enfant 
 nor fille assorted well with my notion, and as I was 
 resolved that nry title-page should tell that my he- 
 roine was Vouee au Blanc, I thought the particle 
 The put before those words would make my mean- 
 ing evident ; would avoid the awkward calembourg 
 formed by " La Vouee au Blanc" (rather at vari- 
 ance, to be sure, with the livery -of the gentlemen of 
 the long robe) ; and more particularly still, that 
 my title being thus an acknowledged jumble of 
 English and bad French, it might find pardon 
 where a more pretending inaccuracy could not 
 have escaped. 
 
CARIBERT, 
 
 THE BEAR HUNTEK. 
 
 O you kind %uds ! 
 
 Cure this great breach in his abused nature! 
 
 The untuned and jarring senses, O wind up! 
 
 Alack! Alack ! 
 
 Tis wonder that his life and wits at once 
 
 Had not concluded all.— He wakes; speak to him. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 AOL. I. — Second Series . 
 
CARIBERT, 
 
 THE BEAR HUNTER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Wind, mist, and darkness are unpleasant 
 accompaniments to a ramble in an unknown 
 mountain district. They were all combined, to 
 my great discomfort, the night of my arrival in 
 the valley at the foot of Mount Arbizon, a 
 secluded spot of the central Pyrenees. I was 
 wandering, as usual, without any fixed pur- 
 pose. In seeking the high places of the earth, 
 I was uninfluenced by any motive of utility 
 or ambition. I am a sorry botanist — know 
 
 B 2 
 
4 CARIBERT, 
 
 nothing of geology, and was merely desirous 
 of emulating the mighty monarch, who em- 
 ployed himself by marching up the hills, for the 
 sole purpose of coming down again. 
 
 A walk of several hours had led me from the 
 summit of the Pic du Midi, to the borders of 
 one of the tributary streams which flow into 
 the river Neste. The weather had not been fa- 
 vourable for observing the country. I had not 
 seen a sun-beam during the whole day. — There 
 had been a constant drizzling rain. Heavy clouds 
 hovered close to the mountains, or sailed along 
 their sides, and as evening closed in, seemed 
 to settle on them, and wrap them round like 
 mantles for the night. Every thing looked 
 comfortless and drowsy; and myself and my 
 dog took our tone from the scenery. He dodged 
 along, with his nose down — but not to the pur- 
 pose. He seemed instinctively to push it to the 
 ground, but found no use in it — just as we 
 scribblers, in a mood of dulness, point our pen 
 to the paper from habit, even when it has lost 
 the scent. I had tried various methods, without 
 success, to shake off the weight which op- 
 pressed me. I frequently took out my tablets 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. D 
 
 and my pencil; but no sooner did something 
 in the shape of a thought seem settling in my 
 brain, than a vapour, like the floating clouds 
 around me, was sure to pass over it, and wipe 
 it out like a sponge. Then, as an izard* 
 bounded past me I started up, examined the 
 priming of my gun, resolved to be very vigo- 
 rous — and dropped in a minute or two into the 
 old mood. The day drawled on, and I could 
 do nothing. I had no society with nature ; I 
 was myself shockingly bad company ; in short 
 I wanted an adventure, — and I found one. 
 
 Accustomed to the rough work of travelling, 
 and not as ignorant of the ways of the people 
 as of those of the country, I had but little per- 
 sonal care to oppress me. I knew I had only 
 to present myself at the door of the first hut, to 
 secure an invitation to enter; and, as I had no 
 doubt of finding plenty of habitations in the 
 valley, I took little note of time., and sauntered 
 leisurely along. A thick wood of pines had 
 hitherto concealed the river from me, and when 
 I got fairly on its bank, it was discernible only 
 
 * The Chamois of the Pyrenees. 
 
CARIBERT. 
 
 by the light of some half dozen twinkling stars, 
 occasionally visible. There are few things 
 easier than to lose one's way in such a situation 
 — but I was proof against that accident, for it 
 was all one to me towards what point of the 
 compass I turned. I only wanted shelter for 
 the night,- and after a long ineffectual search, I 
 made up my mind that my object was unattain- 
 able. Nature itself never wore so inhospitable 
 an aspect. The pine wood was far behind me ; 
 and if even disposed to trust myself to that 
 common receptacle of the wolves and bears, I 
 w as by no means sure of retracing my steps. I 
 was in a pathless desert, with not a tree to re- 
 lieve its monotony. The soil was covered with 
 a short grass, soft as velvet, and free from the 
 slightest incumbrance of wood or stone. I 
 could not have desired a belter bed, but the 
 curtains of vapour were not quite to my taste. 
 
 1 turned round and round in fruitless hope of 
 discovering even a rock to keep to leew ard of, 
 but at length resolved upon dropping down pa- 
 tiently where I was. Ranger, whose feelings 
 seemed precisely parallel with mine, wheeled 
 round three or four times, then suddenly plumped 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 4 
 
 himself down in a circular position close by 
 me, and was soundly slumbering in a minute. 
 But I found it more difficult. I had not the 
 same facility for rolling up my body and limbs, 
 or for putting an extinguisher upon my senses ; 
 and though overpowered with drowsiness, it 
 seemed impossible for me to sleep. The night 
 was chill as well as damp, and my feet and 
 face felt icy cold. The river sounded sadly 
 below me; and the rapid movement of the 
 clouds without any visible power to urge them 
 on, had something wildly supernatural in it. 
 Fancies of all kinds flitted before me. I had a 
 sudden recollection of every thing in unison with 
 my situation; and half dozing, half awake, ran 
 over the various theories of dreams and ghosts, 
 and all such unsubstantial wonders. I at length 
 rocked my mind, as it were, to sleep, with 
 thoughts of Ossian, of children of the mist, of 
 shades of the heroes, etc. ; and as my eyes 
 closed I saw, in inward vision, the old blind 
 bard seated on my breast, his grey locks brush- 
 ing across my face, while he stooped over his 
 harp, whose tones were tingling in my ears, as 
 the wind murmured gloomily round us. I en- 
 
8 ' CARIBERT, 
 
 deavoured to get rid of the pageant, which I 
 felt to be unreal, but could not for some time 
 succeed in removing. I strove to shake off the 
 phantom; tossed my arms to and fro, and was 
 at length lucky enough to dislodge— not the son 
 of Finga!, but my dog Ranger, who had crawled 
 upon me to keep himself (or perhaps me) 
 warm ; while the fringe of his tail was tickling 
 my upper lip, the murmuring river playing the 
 part of the wind, and the tinkling of a little 
 sheep bell acting the dignified melody of the 
 minstrel's lyre. 
 
 But the meaner tones of the real instrument 
 were more grateful to my ears than a whole or- 
 chestra of aerial harpers. I sprang upon my feet, 
 snatched up my gun, and descended rapidly 
 towards the river, to the opposite side of which 
 the bell was inviting me. After a short search I 
 found a fordable passage, and quickly following 
 my viewless guide, I came at last into the centre 
 of a browsing flock of goals. I was loo grateful, 
 and Ranger too well trained, lo give them just 
 cause for alarm ; but they all took fright at our 
 intrusion, and started, bounced, and capered, in 
 every contorted attitude of attack and defence. 
 
THE BEiR HUNTER. <J 
 
 As we passed through them unmolestingly and 
 unharmed, I looked for ihe hut of the goatherd, 
 and soon hit upon a structure of truly primi- 
 tive architecture. It consisted of four ohlong 
 blocks of granite, about three feet high, placed 
 upright to support a shed scantily covered with 
 straw, and walls of wicker-work kept together 
 with leaves and clay, scarcely impervious to the 
 keen mountain air. I poked at this building 
 with the muzzle of my gun, and at its third face 
 found the entrance. I called aloud several 
 times, but got no answer. I then stooped down 
 to ascertain if there was a tenant within ; and 
 was convinced that there was by affirmative 
 breathings, short, quick and interrupted, as of 
 a dreamer with Ossian's ghost astride his breast, 
 or of a waking creature half choked with fear. 
 I called again, but to no purpose : and feeling 
 with the butt end of my gun, I was convinced 
 it was opposed to a solid obstruction of head, 
 body and limbs. I next placed the gun against 
 the outside, knelt down, inserted my hands, 
 and seizing fast hold of a couple of naked legs, 
 I hauled forth my prize, as an angler exultingly 
 yet cautiously drags a huge salmon out of the 
 water. It was a male mountaineer, of about 
 
10 CAJUBERT, 
 
 a hundred pounds weight and twelve years of 
 age, whose covering consisted of breeches and 
 shirt, and a short woollen mantle fastened at 
 his neck. He lay speechless and motionless, 
 and might have thus silently persuaded me that 
 he was dead, had I notth ho heard and felt his 
 heart hounding in his breast, as a wild beast 
 plunges against the bars of its cage. I raised 
 him gently on his legs, and as he stood bolt 
 upright, his hair erects his face deadly pale, his 
 teeth chattering, and every joint in his body 
 shaking like a skeleton on wires, it was quite 
 awful to look at him. 
 
 Finding all efforts of coaxing or scolding in- 
 effectual to get from him a confession of life, I 
 bethought me of that universal softener of hearts 
 and soother of alarms — the dram-bottle. I took 
 my brandy flask from my pocket, and applied 
 it to the mouth of the fear-stricken youth. Never 
 did the lips of a new born babe strain more 
 naturally at its mother's breast — nor those of a 
 languishing lover fasten more firmly on the cheek 
 of his mistress, than did his lips glue themselves 
 to those of the flask. They sucked in the whole 
 neck, like Charybdis swallowing a fishing-smack, 
 and by the time I was able to force it out again, 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 
 
 11 
 
 there was not a single drop at the bottom. 
 After a moment's pause I observed the tip of 
 his tongue slily insinuating itself out of one cor- 
 ner, and making a gradual circuit of his mouth, 
 to gather up the dewy moisture which seemed 
 asking to be taken in. His lips then began to 
 gape and shut convulsively, as an oyster-shell, 
 opening for air. The next symptoms of life 
 were the lazy rising up of an eye-lid, and a 
 leer of good nature stealing out from under it. 
 His horrent locks then sunk down from their 
 elevation, and lay smoothly on his forehead : 
 his trembling had ceased; his whole counte- 
 nance seemed at once brightening and soften- 
 ing; and in a minute or two he bravely gazed 
 at me, with twinkling eyes and open mouth; 
 and seeing me to be an absolute man, not a 
 monster, he burst into a loud and hearty fit of 
 laughter. 
 
 Finding that he was fairly alive, and able to 
 shift for himself, I loosened my hold— but was 
 scarcely less shocked than before, at seeing the 
 poor wretch reel from me, stagger forward, roll 
 sideways, trip and stumble, till he came at last 
 to his fitting equilibrium by dropping down on 
 
12 CAMBEKT, 
 
 the grass, thoroughly drunk. After several at 
 tempts to keep him firmly on his legs, I aban- 
 doned all notion of success ; but making him, by 
 a mixture of French and Spanish, comprehend 
 my wish to discover a road and a house, he 
 began to pilot me, just as a porpoise rolls along 
 before the prow of a ship. He plunged forward 
 up and down hill, with most surprising and 
 grotesque agility, tumbling heels over head, 
 shoutingwilh all his lungs " Camino I" " Gasa !" 
 "Eau-de-vie!" and other incoherent but ap- 
 propriate words, until, in about a quarter of an 
 hour, I perceived a little hamlet, of three or 
 four rude habitations, from one of which a light 
 streamed forth through the open door. My 
 guide had method in his madness; for, in spite 
 of his whispering tone and inveterate hiccup, 
 he made me understand plainly enough that I 
 was not to betray to the family wilhin the house 
 his abandonment of the goats or his patronage 
 of the brandy. I assured him of my discretion ; 
 and he took a silent leave of me, with a nod, a 
 wink, and his finger on his lips, as he staggered 
 off in many a deviation from the right line. 
 Under the rude shed attached to the house, 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 1 3 
 
 I observed a little pony and a couple of mules, 
 which latter I knew at once, by their size and 
 caparisons, for Spanish. A strong odour of to- 
 bacco betrayed the contents of the bales beside 
 them; and I was not slow in conjecturing that 
 the owners, a couple of unlicensed dealers from 
 the other side of the mountains, were enjoying 
 the hospitality of the house. Satisfied as to the 
 nature of the company within, I approached the 
 door, and was met by the host, a middle-aged 
 man, who received me without any embarrass- 
 ment, and seemed marvellously at his ease, con- 
 sidering him to be an encourager of illicit traffic. 
 But these mountaineers have no misgivings re- 
 garding any one who presents himself out of the 
 costume of a Gendarme. An eagle in a large 
 wooden cage which hung close to the door, 
 darted out his beak and flapped his wings at 
 me, hospitably, as I was willing to suppose. I 
 entered., and sat down without ceremony beside 
 the fire. Two girls, the one of twenty or there- 
 abouts, the other four or five years younger, 
 were occupied in clearing away the remains of 
 supper. I had no appetite but for repose, so I 
 refused the invitation to partake their homely 
 
14 CARIBKRT, 
 
 refreshment; but they found Ranger a ready 
 assistant in getting rid of the scraps. On a low 
 bed in one corner of the room lay two men sleep- 
 ing, wrapped in cloaks, handkerchiefs tiedround 
 their heads, and every line of their swarthy faces 
 speaking Spanish, as plainly as physiognomy 
 could speak. Their brown, broad-leafed hat9, 
 with red worsted bands, were flung on the 
 ground, and contrasted strongly with one of a 
 different cut and pattern, which to my great 
 amazement decorated a long peg stuck in the 
 wall. It was no less than a white beaver, with 
 a green-lined brim, about the depth of a supper 
 plate's, such as the beaux of the Boulevards 
 wear perched upon their topcurls, but proba- 
 bly the first and last of its kind ever exhibited 
 in the parts where I fell in with it. A whitish- 
 bufF-coloured glove of the true Parisian texture 
 dangled from within, almost as gracefully as if 
 it had contained the taper fingers of the petit- 
 maitre who owned it. Negligently reclining 
 under it, was a loose coat, with its wadded 
 silk flaps flying open as naturally as if it had 
 been on the back of the man, instead of that of 
 a chair; and a pair of delicate Spanish leather 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 15 
 
 boots, with high heels and brass spurs, made 
 up the rest of the visible costume of a gentle- 
 man who, my host informed me, occupied the 
 bed in a little closet partitioned off the room 
 where we sat. 
 
 Strange anomalies these, thought I, as I view- 
 ed the rustic furniture of the room and the rude 
 costume of the family; — and I, no doubt, looked 
 what I thought, for the host said in his rough way, 
 " Droll enough, sir, isn't it, to see all this finery 
 in our poor hut? But if you were to see the 
 creature it belongs to, you would stare even 
 wider than at it." 
 
 *« Some traveller from Paris, I suppose?" 
 
 M Yes, that it is. I believe no other place 
 could turn out such a being. We were grievous- 
 ly puzzled at first to know his sex as he came 
 trotting his pony up the valley, with his fine 
 silk coat and wide pantaloons flaunting about 
 him, and his long curls dangling on his face. 
 My poor girls will never get over their envy of 
 his dress, nor care any more for the scent of the 
 wild flowers after his perfumes." 
 
 I looked at the daughters to see if their coun- 
 tenances pleaded guilty to this charge of vanity. 
 
1 6 CARIBERT, 
 
 The younger giggled, tittered and skipped about, 
 played with a tame izard which was striving to 
 deep in a corner, took up a bit of the silk-lined 
 coat, pointed to the little hat, and replied to my 
 gaze by a look of great archness; but the elder 
 sister seemed quite heedless of it. She pursued 
 her employment mechanically, with nothing 
 observable in her manner but abstraction, and, 
 as I at first thought, stupidity. I turned to the 
 father, and was about to remark that he had no 
 apparent reason to include her in his opinion, 
 when he stopped me short, with a shake of the 
 head and a heavy sigh, addressing his daughter, 
 "Come along, Aline, cheer up ; look gay, my girl. 
 It is not every day that we have such visitors in 
 these wild parts. Do give a smile or two to this 
 gentleman and your poor father." 
 
 His look, as he spoke, was most affectionate. 
 A smile of the tenderest melancholy spread 
 across her face ; she raised her large hazel eyes 
 full upon him : they filled in a moment with 
 tears, and to avoid their overflowing, or at least 
 our observation of it, she hurried towards the 
 door. I never saw so sudden a change of coun- 
 tenance — of feature almost. A face which at 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 17 
 
 first appeared scarcely worthy of remark, not 
 plain certainly, but still not pretty, was by one 
 simple touch of sensibility transformed in an 
 instant — fov an instant only it is true — into one 
 of infinite charm. I shall leave my readers to 
 discuss the question whether this susceptibility 
 does or does not constitute beauty. I do not 
 think it necessary to give a more accurate de- 
 scription of Aline. I may once for all say that 
 the women of the upper Pyrenees are commonly 
 plain, coarse, and uninlellectual. The admirer 
 of beauty and varie'ymust seek them in the face 
 of nature, not of the sex. This general fact has, 
 however, like all others, its exceptions ; and I 
 have met a few; — one in particular pre-emi- 
 nently remarkable, and which I hope on some 
 future occasion to introduce to my readers. But 
 Aline was not precisely such, as far as personal 
 appearance went. Her figure was tolerably 
 good, and was, like her face, susceptible of 
 very graceful movement when put in action 
 by some powerful menial impulse. Such, for 
 example, as when she started from the fire-place 
 towards the door, to hide her emotion from her 
 father and me. She had many of those moments. 
 
18 
 
 I wish my readers had seen her just in one of 
 them., and they would have heen quite convinced 
 that she was fit to be the heroine of a mountain 
 adventure — or of any adventure which involved 
 in its course deep feeling,, and uncommon deli- 
 cacy of mind. Her sister was a mere child , 
 sprightly and thoughtless, and showed no evi- 
 dence of having caught the tone of Aline's dispo- 
 sition. 
 
 I was so taken by surprise by this abrupt dis- 
 play of feeling in such a situation, and so certain 
 of its being connected with matter of consider- 
 able interest, that I was not disposed to offer 
 any check, in the way of inquiry, to the current 
 that seemed flowing so smoothly. As Aline 
 stood at the door with her back towards us, and 
 appeared to wipe her eyes with a corner of her 
 apron, her father looked at her and me alter- 
 nately; and when he spoke he might be thought 
 to address both us and himself collectively, like 
 an actor soliloquizing before an audience— only 
 that his tone and expression were perfectly, and 
 without premeditation natural. 
 
 " My poor girl ! I see there's no hope for you 
 as long as he lives. Unfortunate wretch that he 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 19 
 
 is, to break such a heart as hers! Poor devil, 
 it is not his fault neither! We are miserable 
 wretches all of us. But God forgive and pity 
 him, he is worst off of all. — When is there to 
 be an end of this suffering I" 
 
 V My dear father," cried Aline, approaching 
 him., " don't speak in this desponding way. 
 It makes me quite unhappy. And you know 
 this gentleman is not acquainted with our ob- 
 scure distresses. I assure you I am quite cheer 
 ful to-night. Something tells me we shall have 
 good news/' 
 
 " God grant we may, for his sake, poor fel- 
 low, as well as yours," replied the father, kiss- 
 ing her. Then, addressing me, " You must 
 excuse me, sir. When a man's heart is full of 
 one great grief, he forgets what is due both to 
 strangers and friends. But we must not worry 
 you with our misfortunes. .Do lake something.'/ 
 
 I declined once more; and. anxious to relieve 
 the evident embarrassment of Aline, I returned 
 to the subject of the sleeping dandy. I could 
 however get no information further, except that 
 he was half dead with fatigue, when he arrived 
 at sunset, after his ride from Bagneres de Bi- 
 
20 CAR1BERT, 
 
 gorre, the Cheltenham of the Pyrenees, where 
 at one time or another during the summer sea- 
 son, one is sure to meet a large proportion of 
 the idleness and bile of the higher class of French 
 society. 
 
 "What is his object in coming here?" asked I. 
 
 "To see the hills, I believe," replied my host. 
 M It is that which brings all you gentlefolk here. 
 God knows what charm our rugged mountains, 
 dark forests, and brawling rivers can have for 
 you. The inhabitants are unfortunate enough 
 in being forced to live in such wilds; but to 
 come into them by choice, and find pleasure in 
 climbing rocks and glaciers and the like, is some- 
 thing we don't understand. Isn't it, Aline?" 
 
 " Perhaps, father, it would be as bad to be 
 forced to live in Paris. Choice and necessity 
 make all the difference, I think." 
 
 " That they do indeed," said I briskly; 
 pleased with the good sense of a remark that 
 from other lips might have sounded common- 
 place, but which surprises one coming from a 
 girl of the Pyrenees; and I was, besides, in a 
 mood to give its full share of value to every word 
 uttered by this particular one. 
 
THE REAR HUNTER. 21 
 
 Much inclined as I had been to sleep ten mi- 
 nutes before, I was quite roused and excited by 
 my observation of this father and daughter, and 
 my conjectures relative to her. I soon became 
 satisfied that I could not close my eyes for the 
 night ; and there was certainly no very great 
 incitement to repose in the crazy chair on which 
 I sat — the three-legged stools of the rest of the 
 parly — or the earthen floor of the hut — the only 
 varieties of accommodation to be had. I asked 
 my host whether he and his daughters had given 
 up their beds, and left themselves without rest- 
 ing-places. •' Why, yes," said he, " we have. 
 The girls could not refuse theirs to the poor gen- 
 tleman within, who appears very rich, and 
 generous withal. As for me, I am used to 
 such matters. When a man is connected with 
 smugglers, he must be up at all hours; ready to 
 give room for friends, and look out for enemies. " 
 
 " You avow yourself then to be connected 
 with yonder gentlemen ? " said I, pointing to the 
 sleeping Spaniards. 
 
 M To be sure I do," replied he. ie We all 
 are. How could we live without being so ? If 
 I, in this miserable spot, were not to traffic a 
 
22 CARIBERT 
 
 little in Spanish wool and tobacco, what should 
 I do in winter-time with my family ? We 
 might get on in summer gaily enough, while the 
 flocks can, feed on the mountains, and we have 
 easy communication with the low grounds. But 
 when the snow chokes us up here, and covers 
 the pasturage, we should starve if we had not a 
 little store laid by from our industry in the 
 smuggling line." 
 
 " But are you not afraid of detection ?" 
 " Not a bit. The government wouldn't think 
 it worth while to pursue an individual. To root 
 out the trade, they must depopulate the Pyre- 
 nees. And it seems, after all, as if heaven put 
 us here on purpose for it, just as it permits our 
 tyrants to make the laws, which we could not 
 live without transgressing." 
 
 A little further conversation ended in his ex- 
 pressing his regret, for the twentieth time, that 
 they had no bed to offer me just then ; but he 
 told me that if I could content myself for an hour 
 or two longer in my chair, his friends would be 
 by that time sufficiently refreshed to pursue 
 their journey. His house was close to the Spa- 
 nish frontier, and they had a couple of leagues 
 
THE BE\R HUNTER. 23 
 
 further to go to the depot on the French side. 
 They were obliged to be there before day-break, 
 and would soon be in motion, when I could re- 
 place them and repose myself. 
 
 I acceded to this plan very readily, but again 
 expressed my anxiety about his daughters. 
 
 " Make yourself easy about them," said he. 
 '* Look round there." I did so, and saw stretch- 
 ed across the foot of the bed where the Spaniards 
 lay, the youngest girl sound asleep. " We are 
 not nice here, you see," said the father. " Our 
 poor little Mannette is easily satisfied with a 
 resting place. As for this dear girl, who sits 
 knitting beside me, the best feather-bed in the 
 king's palace could not tempt her to sleep to- 
 night. Ah! sir, if you knew the weight that lies 
 at her heart, you would only wonder that she 
 holds up her head at all." 
 
 Here Aline could not restrain a long-drawn 
 sigh, the first that had escaped her. She ap- 
 peared uneasy, and cast her looks towards the 
 door. " Ah ! it is of no use to look out yet, 
 Aline," said the father: " Claude cannot possi- 
 bly be back before midnight." 
 
 " Yes, yes, he could indeed, if he had good 
 
news lo tell us. A happy message, with his 
 fleet limbs, would have shortened his way across 
 the mountain." 
 
 " Wait patiently a little," replied he. " In 
 another hour you may reckon on his coming. 
 It is now about eleven, I think," looking out, 
 under his hand, at the few stars which were dis- 
 cernible. I looked at my watch, and found him 
 right within ten minutes. 
 
 " Well then, father," resumed Aline, "since 
 I must endure another hour's suspense, I insist 
 upon your lying down till then. Senor Ma- 
 nuel and his friend will not start before one 
 o'clock ; and I am sure this gentleman will ex- 
 cuse you, and contenthimselfwilh my company 
 until Claude arrives." 
 
 I need scarcely say that 1 was delighted — - 
 most innocently so, at the prospect of this mid- 
 night tetea-tcte. I wanted to know more both 
 of Aline and her story, and I reckoned on 
 making great progress in my acquaintance, if we 
 were left chatting over the fire together. I 
 therefore added my persuasion to the intreatyof 
 Aline: and the father prompted also, perhaps, 
 by the heavy whispering of sleep, which seemed 
 
THE BEA.ll HUNTER. 25 
 
 stealing insensibly over him, consented to re- 
 move himself to the shelter of one of the sheds 
 without, where a heap of straw and a blanket 
 (which latter he carried out with him) afforded 
 all the indulgences necessary to the repose of a 
 hardy mountaineer. 
 
 VOL. 
 
26 CARIBERTj 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Left to ourselves, Aline and I began very 
 quickly and cordially to enter into conversation. 
 The situation was somewhat singular, and rather 
 amusing,' but as she seemed to feel no awk- 
 wardness in it, I had, for my part no objection 
 to keep watch with a single female companion, 
 amidst four or five sleeping neighbours, mostly 
 of my own sex. We began to talk on subjects 
 of a very general nature, such as the pleasures 
 and privations of a mountain residence, com- 
 pared with those of a town ,• the occupations of 
 the inhabitants of the hills; the life of the 
 smugglers, and so on. Nothing broke in on 
 our chat but the occasional snoring of the two 
 Spaniards, which being an interruption that 
 was also an assurance of security, there was n© 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 27 
 
 secret that might not have been safely disclosed, 
 had we been very communicative. Now the 
 fact was, that Aline was free enough on common 
 subjects, but seemed overcome with a timid 
 reserve when any of my hints or allusions bore 
 in the least upon her own situation. I made 
 several efforts to lead to this, without saying 
 any thing actually startling to her diffidence, 
 but a cloud of deep sorrow seemed immediately 
 settling on her brow, which it required the in- 
 genuity of several minutes to dissipate. Half 
 an hour passed over in this way, and I saw 
 plainly that the attention of my companion 
 was gradually waning off from all I said,, and 
 that her nervous anxiety increased with every 
 minute that brought us nearer to midnight, the 
 hour for the expected arrival of her messenger, 
 whoever he might be. As the time approached 
 she became more and more uneasy, made seve- 
 ral excuses for moving towards the window and 
 door> from which she looked out, as if her gaze 
 would have pierced through the thick mists that 
 hung over the valley. All this was beginning to 
 make me extremely fidgetty too. I could not 
 
 avoid sympathising with sensations that were 
 
 c2 
 
28 
 
 evidently so acute, nor resist the impulse that 
 prompted me continually to start up from my 
 chair, go to the door, look out and listen., as if 
 matter of personal moment to me was borne 
 upon every breeze. While I was in one of 
 these involuntary acts of observation — my eyes 
 straining with unaffected earnestness — I heard 
 a shrill whistle blow not far from the house. 
 I started back abruptly towards Aline, and 
 could scarcely refrain from crying out to her 
 that it must be the signal of her messenger. 
 But I was checked from the utterance of a word, 
 by observing the sudden change which her 
 whole appearance had undergone. It was one 
 of those electrical moments which wrought won- 
 ders in her. The flush of agitation which was 
 on her face a minute before, was now succeeded 
 by a deadly paleness, and the intense anxiety 
 that seemed only waiting for the signal to make 
 her spring forward to meet her messenger, had 
 given place to a perfect state of immobility. 
 She appeared quite unable to stir. I ap- 
 proached to offer to help her from her seat, but 
 she motioned me to stop : and, after a few se- 
 conds, passing her hand across her brow, and 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 29 
 
 then pulling it to her heart, as if a pang had 
 connected the one with the other, she rose up, 
 and giving me one of her deep speaking smiles, 
 she moved firmly towards the door. 
 
 As soon as she was observable from without, 
 I heard the voice of a man address her in an 
 under tone. From her reply it appeared that 
 he had inviled her to quit the house. '* No," 
 said she, " I cannot. You may come in. My 
 father is with the horses, and there is no one 
 awake but a traveller before whom you may 
 speak freely, I am sure." The figure of a man 
 was observable close to her, as she continued : 
 " Now I entreat you, Claude, to tell me his true 
 state in as few words as possible. I am pre- 
 pared for the worst : is there any hope ? 
 
 " My dear Aline, there is always hope, you 
 know, to the last." 
 
 " Ah ! do not torture me," exclaimed she, 
 her late agitation reviving once more: " I can 
 endure any thing but suspense — Is he recovered 
 — quite recovered? Tell me, Claude, tell me 
 all — even if there should have been a relapse." 
 
 " Nay, but my dearest Aline, don't agitate 
 
30 
 
 yourself — a relapse, you know, may cot be so 
 bad as matters were before." 
 
 " Oh God ! then he has had a relapse ! " 
 cried she, and she sank on the arm of her com- 
 panion. " Why yes, said Claude, fc< he has — I 
 must confess it — but the fit may not last — it may 
 be slight — Hope for the best, dear Aline." 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed she, " there is no 
 longer any hope : after three relapses, how can I 
 hope ? Whom did you see, Claude ? His mo- 
 ther was it? What does she say? Tell me all." 
 
 " Why, no," replied Claude, hesitatingly, 
 " I did not actually see her — But — " 
 
 " Whom then?" abruptly asked Aline. 
 
 " Be composed, my dear girl, and I will tell 
 you all. I saw him. The truth must out — he 
 has escaped!" 
 
 At the last word of this sentence, poor Aline 
 could no longer repress her feelings. A shriek 
 burst from her, and she rushedout of the house 
 wringing her hands in bitterness of suffering. 
 
 This shriek, though more than half sup- 
 pressed, and less like the loud expression of ter- 
 ror, than the heavy echo of a breaking heart, 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 31 
 
 was enough to rouse the whole society of 
 sleepers. The Spaniards bolh sprang from their 
 bed, throwing down Mannette, who obstructed 
 their passage as she jumped into the middle of 
 the floor. Seeing no one near them but me, a 
 stranger (for Claude had darted from the door, 
 following the movement of Aline) , these fierce 
 mountaineers instantly seized each a weapon 
 of offence — one grasping his ice hatchet, the 
 other a pistol from beneath a bale of wool that 
 had supported their heads. At this moment the 
 host ran in, interposed between me and the 
 smugglers, and quieted them by a word. He 
 that held the pistol exclaimed in Spanish — 
 M All's right then, is it? We're all friends? 
 Good ! But to show you and your company, 
 master Moinard, that I am well prepared for 
 treachery should I meet it, stand out of my way 
 a little. " — With these words striding to the door, 
 he fired his pistol in the air, and was adding in 
 a voice almost as loud as the report, a sentence 
 which began with, '« A brace of bullets " — when 
 he was interrupted by piercing screams from the 
 closet of " Murder! Thieves! Fire!" uttered, 
 to my inexpressible surprise, in broad, downright 
 
32 CAMBERT, 
 
 English. The Spaniards, at this new alarm, 
 darted without a moment's hesilalion towards 
 the closet, and burst open the door; I followed,, 
 with the host, Mannette, and Ranger, who joined 
 his voice to the common discord, and close on 
 our heels came Aline, attracted to the house by 
 the report of the pistol, with her companion 
 Claude, as fine a specimen of a mountain hunter 
 as an artist or poet could wish to sketch from. 
 But I shall give his portrait by and by. 
 
 On entering the closet, the figure which pre- 
 sented itself was irresistibly risible., and the whole 
 scene, following so quick on the previous situa- 
 tion of my heroine, was a new proof of the close 
 neighbourhood of the sublime, or at least of the 
 affecting, to the ridiculous. We ever yone of us 
 (that is, the Spaniards, Mannette, her father and 
 myself,) burst into a fit of loud laughter; and 
 were the pencil of Cruikshank to fill up the rest 
 of this page, I am quite sure that its illustration 
 would make my readers join in a chorus of their 
 own. 
 
 Close to the foot of a low and little bed with- 
 out curtains, with his back against the wall, stood 
 in a most unexceptionable boxing altitude, one 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 33 
 
 of the plainest visaged and lankest figured men 
 that had ever met my observation. His long legs 
 almost reached from one end of the closet to 
 the other; a green slipper was on one foot, the 
 half of a white jean pantaloon twisted hurriedly 
 about the other, which was as bare from the 
 ankle as its fellow, his shirt open, a silk hand- 
 kerchief half pushed from his temples, sur- 
 mounted by a few pointed locks of red hair, and 
 bristling out beneath it a profusion of papillotes 
 in which he had arranged his curls. His long face., 
 staring eyes., open mouth, and pendant musta- 
 chios, completed the embodied appearance of 
 Cervantes' immortal imagining. But he wore in 
 his whole aspect and attitude a show of that cou- 
 rage and defiance of danger, which was only 
 laughable to the rest of the party, but which 
 really gratified my national pride, as a new and 
 undoubted display of what is common to nine- 
 ty-nine out of every hundred Englishmen, how- 
 ever ridiculous they choose to make themselves 
 at home or abroad. 
 
 Seeing that my countryman, for such he cer- 
 tainly was, although I knew him not, had really 
 nothing of the perilous in his situation, and sa- 
 
34 CARIBERT, 
 
 tisfied from the droll assemblage of French and 
 English in his exclamations, as he vociferated to 
 us to "come on all and attack him if we durst," 
 that he had betrayed himself for a Briton, and 
 so screened himself both from insult and injury, 
 I was resolved not to interfere further, but to 
 leave him to work out his own way ; while I 
 abandoned the episode of which he was the hero, 
 to follow the main thread of an adventure more 
 congenial to my actual state of mind. 
 
 I therefore addressed Aline, who saw with her 
 prompt glance the true aspect of the case, and 
 glad to escape from the worry of explanation that 
 awaited her in the house, she accepted my ad- 
 vice to retire from the scene accompanied by 
 Claude and me. Reliance on fair appearance 
 seems so much more natural than distrust, to 
 minds unspoiled by worldly feeling, or to those 
 who are glad to break away from it to the ge- 
 neral sympathies of nature, that I was not at 
 all surprised to find myself almost firmly esta- 
 blished in the confidence of Aline, and quite 
 self-satisfied that I was her friend, upon even our 
 short acquaintance. A person of her quick per- 
 ception must have instantly discovered that I 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 35 
 
 was impressed with sentiments towards her at 
 once warm and disinterested. With such a feel- 
 ing, she seemed to think it quite unnecessary to 
 make any parade of admitting me to a share in 
 the conversation which began between her and 
 Claude; and I, on my part, thought it quite na- 
 tural that I should join in it. Claude appeared 
 to have no more hesitation than I ; so we all 
 three sloped off by a spontaneous movement, to 
 a sufficient distance from the deep notes of the 
 Spaniards' mirth, the shrill treble of Mannette's 
 laughter, and the hoarse bass grumbling of the 
 enraged dandy. 
 
 " What direction did he take ?" asked Aline, 
 in a voice of mournful questioning, and as if her 
 mind had returned without any effort to the sub- 
 ject of her distress, and forgotten with equal 
 ease the recent bustle. 
 
 "When I last caught a glimpse of him," re- 
 plied Claude, "he was wandering about Lake 
 Escoubous; but," added he, in a tone more de- 
 pressed, te I think he was making towards the 
 Tourmalet." 
 
 " Oh Heavens," cried she, " in that case I 
 must not lose a moment. For the love of God, 
 
36 
 
 CARIBERT, 
 
 Claude, tell me — how did he escape from home, 
 and are you sure he thinks of going to the fatal 
 ravine ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am quite certain of that. As 
 for his escape, I first heard of it from Simon 
 Guilloteaux of Bastan, whom I met soon after I 
 left you this evening. He told me that in passing 
 by poor Madame Lareole's cottage he thought 
 he would just step to the window and ask after 
 Caribert. He did so, and while he believed the 
 poor fellow was lying asleep, he said in a half 
 whisper to the mother, who sat watching by 
 the bed, that the bear hunters were gathering 
 through the parish for the chase to-morrow. No 
 sooner had he said so, than the unfortunate Ca- 
 ribert, who had had the fit coming strong on 
 him all the day, and had just lain down ex- 
 hausted an hour before, sprang up, and half un- 
 dressed as he was, rushed towards the window, 
 leaped into the garden, and forcing past Simon, 
 who strove in vain to stop him, he darted off, 
 hallooing in the old way, " To the chase, to the 
 chase ! Come, father, come !" 
 
 "Alas ! alas !" sobbed Aline, who could keep 
 silent no longer, but covering her eyes with 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 37 
 
 both her hands wept aloud, while Claude and I 
 assisted to support, but made no effort to con- 
 sole her. 
 
 Here then was the whole sad secret of the poor 
 girl disclosed to me at once, without question on 
 my part, or formal disclosure on hers. There 
 she stands (said I to myself,) mourning her lost 
 lover, lost to every thing that makes life worth 
 keeping, to reason, affection, and it would seem 
 even to the hopes of self-deceiving attachment ; 
 for her suffering is that of despair, covering the 
 green grave of buried love. But then, thought 
 I, the cause? The father exclaimed in his soli- 
 loquy awhile ago, " God forgive and pity him !" 
 He accused this wretched maniac (for it must 
 have been him) of having broken her heart : he 
 said there was no peace for her while he lived. 
 Why pray for forgiveness for this witless suf- 
 ferer ? Why charge him with her misfortune ? 
 By what act did he cause it ? Why were her 
 griefs to end with this poor Garibert's life ? The 
 death of a beloved sufferer sets the seal upon 
 hope, it is true, but not upon sorrow. Such 
 were the questions and reflections that involun- 
 
38 
 
 tarily sprang up in my mind. I was resolved to 
 neglect no fair means for their solution. 
 
 "When this last irresistible burst of Aline's 
 grief had subsided, and her mind seemed quite 
 made up to the course she meant to follow, she 
 addressed Claude with a composure which had 
 as much in it of deep feeling as of good sense : 
 it was not to be mistaken or argued with. "I 
 am now ready, quite ready, to do my duty. What 
 direction will you take, Claude, while I go to- 
 wards the Tourmalet ?" 
 
 " You are determined to go, then," said 
 Claude, in a tone that he wished to have made 
 interrogative, but which was that of positive cer- 
 tainty, as to the fact he would have been glad to 
 doubt. 
 
 "Indeed, indeed, lam!" replied she: " I 
 have not so long persisted in performing my pain- 
 ful task to abandon it now, when it is most of 
 all necessary, and most painful too, I must con- 
 fess. My God! my God! after weeks of ex- 
 pectation — after all the doctor's promises — af- 
 ter all our prayers, that he should now be lost to 
 all hope ! It is indeed too bad. Poor unfortu- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 39 
 
 nate Caribert!" and here another flood of tears 
 came to her relief; but they were interrupted 
 by the approach of her father, who having ar- 
 ranged matters between the Spaniards and the 
 Englishman, had come out to seek his child, and 
 at the same time to get a confirmation of what 
 he already suspected to be the cause of her ab- 
 sence, and her weeping, which he heard plain- 
 ly within. 
 
 "Well, well, my poor girl," saidhe, putting 
 his arm round her neck, " it is even as I feared. 
 But we can't help it, Aline. We must submit 
 to the misfortune. He has had a new fit! Is it 
 not so, Claude ? w 
 
 " Aye, worse than ever. I never saw him so 
 outrageous. The last fortnight's quiet seems to 
 have worked him up to a height of frenzy be- 
 yond all his former ones. It was quite frightful 
 to see him dashing through the rocks above Lake 
 Escoubous, as he bounded off towards the val- 
 ley of Baslan, bare-headed and with naked feet, 
 which were so lacerated as to leave a track of 
 blood like a wounded izard." 
 
 " Oh Heavens !" cried Aline, "and I am not 
 
40 
 
 with him yet ! Go, father, go and get me my 
 hood. I cannot enter the house to be detained 
 and questioned by Seiior Manuel. You know 
 his way, and it would be sure to be a quarrel 
 between him and Claude. Make haste, my dear 
 father, do make haste." 
 
 "Why now, my dear Aline," replied he, 
 wishing to temporize, but evidently awed by her 
 decided yet affectionate manner, " what would 
 you do for him ? You cannot reach the Pic be- 
 fore him ; and you know he is in the hands of 
 Providence, which will order every thing for 
 the best." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed she, in a louder and 
 more peremptory tone than I had yet heard 
 from her — " Would you wish him then to pe- 
 rish ? W T ould you run the risk of his dashing 
 himself from the horrid precipice in his frantic 
 despair? Would you risk that?" cried she, 
 with increased energy, and grasping his arm. 
 
 " Why press me with such shocking ques- 
 tions, Aline? If Heaven choose to take him to 
 itself, Heaven knows best." 
 
 " Oh father, father!" said she, in a deep 
 
THE BEAU ULSTER. 41 
 
 reproachful tone, " you make my blood run 
 cold," — an d so saying she moved towards the 
 house with a hurried pace. 
 
 V Nay, nay, my daughter — don't leave me 
 in anger. You know my heart bleeds for him 
 — but is not your happiness the whole world 
 to me? Can a thousand lives weigh as heavy 
 as that? Kiss me, Aline. I'll get your hood 
 for you." 
 
 She stepped quickly back and threw her 
 arms round her father's neck, sobbing almost 
 inarticulately, "I know all that, to be sure;- — 
 but consider, my father, how terrible it is to 
 talk of his death, and such a death too as may 
 await him if I do not make haste." 
 
 " Go then, in God's name, go! but the night 
 is so dark — I never saw a thicker mist. You 
 cannot get to the Pic till long after day light, 
 and if he arrives there first, all may be over." 
 
 "Oh! I'll run down all the hills, and climb 
 the steeps faster than ever I did. I trust, too, 
 that he cannot have made much way, weak and 
 lame as he is, poor thing ! and in such hazy 
 weather; — I shall be there first, please Heaven! 
 My hood, father, my hood I" 
 
42 CARlBERT, 
 
 I thought this was the moment for me to in- 
 terpose — not to prevent her departure, but to 
 hasten her journey. There was something to 
 me awfully sacred in the duty she was about to 
 fulfil. I was deeply moved by her distress, 
 and the air of mysterious interest of the whole 
 adventure. I thrilled with horror at the im- 
 agined view of the frantic wanderer flinging him- 
 self from the precipice., which I was convinced 
 from all I had heard, had some terrific connec- 
 tion with his insanity. I had stood, early that 
 morning, by the edge of a chasm in the direc- 
 tion they spoke of, the most appalling I had 
 ever beheld : one formed, as I thought, in a 
 moment of Heaven's deadliest wrath against the 
 world; looking as if the ireful stroke of a thou- 
 sand concentrated thunderbolts had split the 
 whole body of the mountain from its summit to 
 its roots, and lorn open, and scattered down to 
 the vale the huge rocks that lay buried deepest 
 in its heart. In my breathless curiosity to look 
 over the chasm, I had lain down on my face, 
 and crept cautiously along to its vast and bro- 
 ken edge. With one hand twined in I he roots 
 of a thick tuft of lhododendron, and the other 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 43 
 
 grasping a jagged piece of granite that stood out 
 over the yawning depth, I cautiously gazed 
 down into it. Shivered fragments of rock of 
 immense magnitude, wrenched as it were from 
 their hold in the earth, first caught my view. 
 Some appeared in the very act of falling down, 
 as ihey hung balanced in the ocean of the air 
 by a slight isthmus of clay and stone, which 
 seemed waiting the first storm-gust to sever it 
 across. Other enormous masses toppled over 
 the abyss, from projecting ledges of earth, not a 
 hundredth part the size of the crags they sup- 
 ported. A few wild flowers and shrubs, dangling 
 from the irregular sides, gave a horrid air of 
 animation to the scene, and looked like living 
 victims suspended over the chasm. One solitary 
 pine-tree, with broken branches and withered 
 stem, hung out over the side. Its roots were 
 bare, all but three or four fibres, by which it 
 seemed to cling tremblingly to the cliff where it 
 had been self-planted, as if conscious that the 
 next shower of rain would wash away its scanty 
 bed of earth, and precipitate it down below. The 
 whole perpendicular face of this gulf was seared 
 and shivered by the lightnings of countless ages, 
 
44 CARIBERT, 
 
 and innumerable storms. Not a living thing 
 was in sight, but two or three eagles that float- 
 ed through the sky far beneath me. The clouds 
 rolled away thousands of feet below, and bid 
 the tops of many a lesser hill — for I was then on 
 one of the highest points of the Pyrenees. 
 Every thing further down was lost to me, in 
 the solid mist that seemed settled in the shelter 
 of the ravine. I looked up and saw nothing but 
 the thick haze of dawn, for the sun had not 
 appeared over the furthest edge of the horizon. 
 I had ascended the Pic du Midi to behold its 
 glorious rising. I viewed, instead of it, this 
 scene of harrowing desolation. I shrank back 
 from the precipice, recovered my feet, and 
 hurried off down the smooth eastern side of the 
 mountain, in the direction of that valley, where 
 night brought me into contact with the adven- 
 ture which led to this digression. 
 
 As Aline, her father, and Claude had been 
 conversing, and creating in my mind the deepest 
 sympathy for the unhappy maniac, the memory 
 of my morning's position rushed strongly upon 
 me. As the interest of their subject warmed, 
 my horror seemed increased, and when she 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 45 
 
 spoke of Caribert's dashing himself from the 
 precipice, I could figure no olher — -none more 
 horrible surely to my imagination. I spoke to 
 her then as one fully impressed with the neces- 
 sity of speed. " Do, do go, my worthy girl — 
 delay no longer — use no ceremony — take the 
 strange gentleman's horse, and you may yet be 
 in time to save him." 
 
 My suggestion was received by the father and 
 Claude with warm approbation. Aline alone 
 seemed to hesitate for a moment; but a word 
 or two strongly urged from the rest of the party, 
 and the repetition of my request, decided her. 
 We, therefore, cautiously approached the shed 
 where the pony lay, and while the father en- 
 tered the house to get Aline's hood, and see that 
 all was right with the guest, Claude and I ar- 
 rayed the little animal in his rude housings, and 
 with some straw and the blanket which had 
 served for my host's covering during his short 
 repose, we constructed a very tolerable pillion 
 for Aline. The cautious messenger soon re- 
 turned, bearing her scarlet woollen scarf and 
 hood ; and by our joint assistance she was quick- 
 ly mounted. Having hastily settled that, 
 
46 
 
 while she pursued her route directly towards 
 the Tourmalet, to reach the Pic du Midi by the 
 shortest bridle path, Claude was to hasten by 
 the direct way across the mountain to Lake 
 Escoubous, and endeavour to fall in with the 
 maniac, and keep him in observation : the in- 
 teresting girl bade us adieu, and set out on her 
 expedition. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 47 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Although Aline was almost immediately out 
 of sight, we were none of us inclined to quit the 
 spot in which she had left such a blank. We 
 stopped, as if by concerted plan, each in his 
 place, and listened to the sound of the little 
 pony's feet, as he cautiously picked his steps 
 over the rough flints which formed the road 
 leading from the house towards my young friend 
 the goatherd's hovel. His rider, however, soon 
 quitted this tedious path, for we quickly distin- 
 guished the echo of his cantering pace., as she 
 pressed him forwards on the smooth turf which 
 bordered the road on either side. The sounds 
 soon died away, overpowered by the boisterous 
 laugh which came occasionally from the house; 
 and when there was no chance of hearing more 
 
48 CARIBERT, 
 
 of our heroine, her father and myself seemed 
 mutually inclined to speak. I was the first to 
 break the silence. "That daughter, my friend," 
 said I, " is indeed a treasure/' 
 
 " A treasure !" exclaimed he, " she is a won- 
 derful creature, Sir; take my word for it you 
 don't know a thousandth part of her worth, or 
 of her value to me ever since I lost her mother 
 ten years ago : and more the pity that she should 
 be ruined in health and happiness by an unlucky 
 madman." "But," said I, "all maybe well 
 with him yet. He may recover his reason." 
 
 " God forbid," replied he, quickly. " That 
 would be the worst that could happen." 
 
 " How is that?" asked I. M If well over his 
 delirium, she might be married and happy 
 enough after all." 
 
 " Married! and to Caribert — Ah! Sir, you 
 don't know how matters stand between them. 
 You don't know her story. If you knew that, 
 you would not wonder that I wish him in hea- 
 ven, unfortunate devil that he is. Until he 
 dies, I tell you, Sir, there's no chance of any 
 thing but misery for either my daughter or this 
 fine lad here, and I might say for myself too." 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 49 
 
 My eyes turned towards Claude, whom I had 
 not till this moment had either light or leisure 
 to remark particularly. He leant upon his 
 staff, with a fixed and absent stare, quite ab- 
 stracted from us and our conversation, and evi- 
 dently listening, or fancying he listened still, 
 to the distant (and to us inaudible) sounds of 
 Aline's pony. I am sure he was deceiving 
 himself, but the minds of lovers have ears as 
 well as eyes, and it is hard for common obser- 
 vers to measure the space they can see and hear 
 over. It had not before occurred to me, that 
 Claude was actually Aline's lover. I had never 
 asked, or reflected, whether or not he washer 
 cousin, or her friend, or some kind messenger. 
 In his bearing towards her there was nothing 
 beyond affectionate and considerate attention. 
 He had none of that involuntary impetuosity in 
 his assiduities — that marked and self pronoun- 
 cing privilege to give consolation and advice — 
 that evident conviction of his right to be near her 
 — that natural tone of an influence over her, 
 which, in my notions of a lover's feelings, are 
 blended with all their tenderness, quite in spile 
 of one. Upon reconsidering his whole manner 
 
 VOL. I. d 
 
50 
 
 while she was present, and comparing it with his 
 vacant stare on the spot she had so lately occu- 
 pied, and with the expression of his handsome, 
 intelligent and mild countenance, I was quite 
 satisfied that he was her lover, notwithstanding 
 what appeared the almost insuperable obstacles 
 that lay in the way of his passion. He appeared 
 to be about four-and-twenly years of age, form- 
 ed for activity rather than fatigue; and as he 
 leaned silently upon his staff in the mild light 
 which the candle sent through the window, he 
 gave me the idea of a kind-hearted, gentle low- 
 land youth, rather than that which we involunta- 
 rily attach to the figure of an enterprising moun- 
 taineer. It was the singularity of such a figure 
 in these rough regions, and its contrast with 
 the rugged outlines which marked those of my 
 host and the smugglers, and almost all indeed 
 whom I met in this part of the Pyrenees, that 
 pleased me so much. I all at once took a great 
 interest in his affairs : and here avow myself 
 one of those impertinent persons who cannot 
 help doing so, whenever I am much struck by 
 the manners of men — and (since I am in the 
 confessing vein) by the mein of the other sex. 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 51 
 
 w Look at him, Sir, how he stands there 
 thinking," whispered my host, twitching me by 
 the elbow. " That has been his way for more 
 than two years. Never the least flinching from 
 his constancy in all the rebuffs she has given 
 him ,* — and almost ever since that fellow Cari- 
 bert went mad, five months back, this fine lad 
 has followed and watched him as he would a 
 stray goat, all out of love to her; and no 
 hope, as I said before, while he lives — nor after, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " She preferred poor Caribert, then?" said 
 I, removing, with him, a few paces further 
 from Claude. 
 
 " She did so, but heaven only can tell why; 
 lor compared to this Claude he was as harsh 
 and rugged as the rock his father was dashed 
 over." 
 
 " What did you say? exclaimed I with a 
 shudder, for I only caught imperfectly the lat- 
 ter part of his reply, which seemed closed by a 
 muttered curse. " Was his father dashed over 
 a precipice?" 
 
 "Ah! I forgot that you didn't know the 
 story. I'll tell you what, Sir, — wait just awhile 
 
 d 2 
 
52 
 
 lill the Spaniards are gone, and the foreigner in 
 bed again, and Claude set out across the 
 mountain, and I'll tell you the whole history 
 of this wretched Garibert, Claude and my poor 
 daughter. Wait a little, while I go into the 
 house, and set all to rights. Come Claude, my 
 lad, what are you thinking of? Come in with 
 me, and take some supper before you start. 
 You have a long walk before you, and you must 
 be tired I am sure. Rouse up, my lad !" He ac- 
 companied these words by a slap on Claude's 
 shoulder, and a hearty shake of the hand. 
 Claude answered, that he was a little fatigued, 
 but was in no heart for supping. " I'll just 
 borrow your gun, Monsieur Moinard," added 
 he. " I shall beofFacross Mount Arbizon, and 
 I may fall in with some izards, or perhaps meet 
 the hunters on my path." 
 
 " Aye, you shall have the gun with pleasure, 
 for you know how to use it well, and to take 
 care of it [too. Come in and we'll get it, and 
 furnish your flask and your sack wilh some 
 provisions at any rate, if you can't eat now ; 
 come in !" 
 
 Puring this dialogue, I had made up my 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 53 
 
 mind as to my course. Much as I wished for 
 the disclosures promised me by my host, I was 
 resolved not to purchase them by the loss of 
 Claude's company. I had determined to be his 
 companion across the hill; I had hopes of learn- 
 ing from him a great deal of what Mcinard had 
 promised to reveal ; and above all things I was 
 anxious to fall in again with Aline, whom there 
 was a chance of my seeing, as well as the un- 
 fortunate object of her search. I was there- 
 fore all impatience to arrange my project with 
 Claude, and to get quietly ofFfrom the cottage 
 without any interruption from the group with- 
 in, whose differences appeared (by their blend- 
 ed voices in the chorus of a drinking song,) to 
 have subsided into a tone of very turbulent 
 harmony. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this desire to get deeper 
 into the adventure, I confess I felt an itching 
 to have a parting peep at the British Quixote, 
 and the Spanish heroes, against whom I left him 
 so inclined to run a tilt. I stepped therefore 
 towards the door, and placing myself out of the 
 range of the light shot forth from the candle, 
 I took an observation, myself quite unobserved. 
 
54 
 
 The three melodists were seated round the table, 
 which was garnished with brown bread, goat's- 
 rnilk cheese, a plate of raw onions, the remnant 
 of some dried sausages, a pitcher of water, and 
 a bottle, which I supposed to contain brandy. 
 On these materials the Spaniards had been re- 
 galing in preparation for their departure, and 
 while they were now washing down their supper, 
 they each accompanied their draught by the 
 fumes of a cigar. My countryman was simi- 
 larly furnished : and the whole group presented 
 an appearance of droll associations. One of 
 the smugglers, a huge broad-shouldered fellow, 
 with black bushy hair and whiskers, and his 
 large mantle wrapped round him, had placed 
 the dandy's white cockle-shell hat on his head, 
 and in his efforts to keep it balanced while he 
 moved in lime to his music, was forced to make 
 several grotesque gesticulations, which threw 
 the laughing dandy into attitudes of corres- 
 ponding oddity. He, on his part, wore the 
 Spaniard's immense hat, which completely fell 
 over his face, of which the only part observa- 
 ble to me was the mouth, embellished by his 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER* 55 
 
 cigar, and opening alternately for the ejection 
 of the smoke or the admission of the grog. He 
 sat without his coat, but he had got little Man- 
 nette's red hood thrown scarfwise over his shoul- 
 ders. His gigantic shadow kept playing along 
 the floor most ludicrously with his motions ; 
 while the enlarged profile of the second Spa- 
 niard, with his handkerchief still tied round his 
 head, grinned grimly on the wall close to which 
 he sat. Mannette seemed in ecstacy with the 
 scene. She sometimes jumped about the room, 
 dancing to the discord, and snapping her fin- 
 gers in imitation of castanets. Again she popped 
 down on the side of the bed, mimicking the at- 
 titude of the dandy, or held her sides in fits of 
 laughter. Claude stood in a corner inattentive 
 to and unnoticed by the singers, examining the 
 gun given him by the host, who was bustling 
 about the room, making preparations for the 
 departure of his various visitors. I could have 
 wished to catch more distinctly the words of the 
 song. I recognized it for one of those patriotic 
 effusions composed during the late war, which 
 I had heard some months before on another 
 part of the Spanish frontier. It began thus :-— 
 
56 CARIBERT, 
 
 Espaiioles, la patria oprimida 
 Os convoca en los campos de honor, 
 Acudid a su voz imperiosa, 
 Recobrad uestro antiguo valor. 
 
 I forget the remainder except the concluding 
 stanza, which was impressed on my memory by 
 the reiterated vociferations of the Englishman, 
 who, pleased with the final sound, demanded 
 and obtained full half a dozen repetitions of the 
 couplet. 
 
 En defensa de causa tan justa, 
 Toraa parte el Britano valor ; 
 T- ma el mundo tan fuertes naciones 
 T ; u ubla de ellas el tirano feroz ! 
 Estrechados en firme alianza 
 Mueve a entrambos ignal interes 
 Y qual Dios tutelar venerado 
 Sera siempre de Espana el Ingles. * 
 
 To the fine martial air of the song, and the 
 sonorous voices of the Spaniards, the delighted 
 
 * At the request of the Englishman, in our after ac- 
 quaintance, I gave him the following loose notion of 
 these fragments, in his ovrn language. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER." 57 
 
 and indefatigable dandy joined in loud shouts 
 of " tol de rol lol," " fal de ral Ial," " heigh 
 derry down," and every other variety of Eng- 
 lish chorus, hunting or drinking, thumping on 
 the table, and stamping with all the energy of 
 public spirit. I confess I was much pleased with 
 my odd-looking compatriot. I saw he was a 
 fellow who could feel as well as fight ; and I 
 had much ado to resist my inclination of going 
 to grasp him by the hand, and make common 
 cause in the " firme alianza '.' of the parties. 
 
 Spaniards, our enemy tramples the land — ' 
 We are called by our country to freedom and fame- 
 Let us fly and obey her loud voice of command, 
 
 And react all the glories combined with her name ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
 In defence of a quarrel so righteous as ours, 
 The valour of Britain is join'd with our own; 
 While the world praises loudly the fame of those 
 
 powers 
 Which make Despots sit quivering with fear on each 
 
 throne. 
 Interlaced in firm union, no rival between, 
 Our cause and our interests no tyrant shall sever : 
 What to Spain all her tutelar Gods may have been, 
 Is the Englishman now — aye, and shall be for ever ! 
 
58 CARIBERT, 
 
 But a little reflection decided me against this 
 movement. I thought that if I announced 
 myself as an Englishman, I might find his com- 
 panionship a very troublesome incumbrance ; 
 and from the same reason, I did not want to 
 encounter a friendly association with the Spa- 
 niards. I saw that Claude was very nearly 
 taking the first step towards his journey, and 
 as no time was to be lost, I determined to enter 
 the house, to gather together Ranger and my 
 other marching accoutrements. I must here 
 say, by way of parenthesis, that I never found 
 any difficulty in passing myself for a French- 
 man in this border country, where the natives 
 were insensible to whatever was foreign in my 
 accent, and where, to make myself understood, 
 I was obliged to mix French and Spanish, with 
 a large portion of patois. I walked in, there- 
 fore, and saluted the company with a coun- 
 terfeit Parisian air, which passed for genuine. 
 The three friends looked significantly at each 
 other, and repeated once more the last line of 
 the song, the Englishman groaning forth like a 
 hoarse echo the concluding words, " Espafia el 
 Ingles," with a voice that kept the promise of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 59 
 
 all that was unmusical in his countenance. He 
 seemed anxious to attract my attention : looked 
 quite disposed to take a great national quarrel 
 upon his own narrow shoulders ; and thought, 
 as he confessed to me afterwards, that I was a 
 cursed snivelling fellow, for not taking notice of 
 his pointed manner. It did not, however, pass 
 unobserved by me : I noted it down, and was 
 highly amused, and not in the least displeased 
 with it. But my business was with Claude, to 
 whom I briefly expressed my intention of join- 
 ing in his expedition. He readily assented, and 
 our host declared that since I was resolved to 
 go, he would cross to the western side of Mount 
 Arbizon along with us, as he had a flock there- 
 abouts, which he had not looked after for some 
 days, and whose shepherd, he feared, might 
 take to following the bear hunters if they passed 
 that way. 
 
 Matters being thus arranged, it was very de- 
 sirable to get rid of the Spaniards as quickly as 
 possible. Moinard therefore addressed them in 
 their own language, to the following effect: — 
 
 " Gentlemen, I know well that he's but a bad 
 fellow that parts good company; but pleasures 
 
60 
 
 should always give the wall to business. You 
 know what I mean, Senor Manuel. The mules 
 are refreshed, the supper ended, the cock crow- 
 ing. What time do you think of setting out?" 
 
 " By the life of my Saint, Moinard, you are 
 the trustiest of smugglers ! Twenty long years 
 that we've worked together,- 1 never knew lass 
 or glass to keep you from trade when aught was 
 to he made of it. So much the better for your 
 daughters, my friend, and the hearty lads who 
 are to have them and their fortunes. A-propos 
 of your girls, what has become of my favourite 
 Aline ? I caught a glimpse of her to-night with 
 young Claude here ; so I suppose she does not 
 scorn him so much as she did, and that she has 
 left mad Caribert to go hunting as usual with 
 his father's ghost. Is it so ?" 
 
 Moinard, while he replied, cast an anxious 
 look at Claude, whose cheeks showed symptoms 
 of rising anger. «* Why, Manuel, there's no 
 use in touching a string like that. Claude can 
 pick up a little of what you say; and however 
 he may bear scorn from Aline, he won't from 
 another, you know." 
 
 " As for that mailer," said Manuel, " I should 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 61 
 
 be sorry to hurt the lad's feelings, and I did not 
 know he understood any Spanish." So saying, 
 he rose from his seat, and stretched out his 
 hand to Claude, addressing him in bad French, 
 " Gome, Claude, my boy, take the hand of a 
 hearty well-wisher of yours." Claude smiled 
 good naturedly, and shook the proffered hand. 
 " That's a fine honest fellow," continued the 
 Spaniard; " I wish you success with all my 
 heart. I've but one piece of advice to give 
 you. If Aline continues cruel, and takes again 
 to this maniac, come across the mountains one 
 fine day to Puertolas, and I'll introduce you to 
 my little black-eyed niece, Antonia, who dances 
 the Bolero as well as any lass in Arragon, and 
 will repay your affection in smiles instead of 
 frowns, I'll warrant her. The mark of a ripe 
 mulberry is washed out by a green one, you 
 know, as we say in Spain."* 
 
 * Dicen que ya no me quieres 
 No me da para maldita, 
 Que la mancha de la mora 
 Con otra verde se quita. 
 
 These -words have passed into a common proverb in 
 
62 CAR1BERT, 
 
 " Thank you, Senor," replied Claude. 
 " When I have no hope left here, perhaps I'll 
 pay you a visit on the banks of the Cinca ; — 
 but not till then, I candidly tell you." 
 
 " Very well, my lad; come when you like, 
 you are sure of a welcome. I never say one 
 thing and mean another, depend upon it. Now, 
 Santiago," turning to his comrade, " let's re- 
 load the mules. The sun must not catch us 
 this side the depot. Adieu, my brave English- 
 man ! Let's exchange hats once more, if you 
 please, in token of love." The dandy guessed 
 at the speech by the gestures of the speaker, 
 stood up, as erect, as thin, and nearly as tall as 
 a young pine tree, put the Spaniard's hat on ils 
 proper block, ran his scraggy fingers through 
 his own curled locks, which he had disembar- 
 rassed of their papillotes, and took a sly self- 
 satisfied peep at a little looking-glass, hanging 
 over the fire-place. 
 
 Spain. Senor Manuel's conversation was thickly inter- 
 larded with those favourite expletives of his country- 
 men. I recorded only this one, and have somewhat 
 curtailed his speeches in other respects. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 63 
 
 We were all now in motion. The Spaniards 
 went towards the shed, followed by Moinard and 
 the dandy. Mannette carried out a cloak and 
 one of the packages belonging to the former, 
 and Claude and I stepped on one side to see the 
 departure. No sooner had the party reached 
 the shed, than I observed the dandy looking 
 about very inquisitively for his pony. The 
 Spaniards went on with their girthing, strap- 
 ping, and bridling, and Moinard either did not 
 see, or would not notice his searching glances. 
 At length the mules being safely loaded, and the 
 smugglers in the very act of starting, the dandy 
 thought it full time to utter his inquiries and 
 complaints concerning the disappearance of his 
 little nag. He addressed himself to the Spa- 
 niards in the best French he could muster, and 
 from his tone I could ascertain clearly, he had 
 a lurking notion that they were concerned in 
 the evasion. V Blood and fury!" exclaimed 
 Manuel, "what does he think, Moinard? Does 
 he suspect us of having packed up his pony in 
 our bales of tobacco?" 
 
 " Never mind, never mind," said Moinard, 
 still speaking Spanish ; " I'll quiet him. Leave 
 
64 
 
 him to me." Then addressing himself to the 
 Englishman in French, " Your horse is safe, 
 Sir, quite safe, I'll warrant you." 
 
 " Where the devil is he then ?" angrily asked 
 the dandy ; " I am determined to have him ; and 
 no man stirs from this place till I am sure of his 
 safety." 
 
 With these words he deliberately threw his 
 two long arms out right and left, and with his 
 back towards me, looking altogether like some 
 huge finger-post, he firmly seized the bridles of 
 the two mules, ordering their leaders to stop, 
 in a tone of pure aristocratical command. 
 
 '* Death and fire!" cried Manuel (for the 
 other Spaniard had not in my hearing spoken 
 a word the whole night — I never saw such a 
 phlegmatic fellow. " Death and fire ! what's 
 all this?" and I observed him instantly to draw 
 a knife. Iiis companion did the same. I hur- 
 ried forwards, alarmed for the safety of my 
 countryman, who seemed quite indifferent to 
 the danger, shook his head only, and swore in 
 plain English (evidently quite for his own satis- 
 faction), that " he'd be d d if they stirred 
 
 one inch till he got back his pony." 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 65 
 
 Moinard, with his usual steady presence of 
 mind, laid his hand on the dandy's arm, and 
 said to him in a firm voice, " Recollect, Sir, 
 you must not offend these gentlemen. But to 
 make you easy about your horse, you may be 
 sure that no one has it but my daughter Aline, 
 Avho has taken a loan of it (since the truth must 
 out) to ride across the hill on a visit to a sick 
 lover. " 
 
 The last word seemed to stick in the speaker's 
 throat, but it quite softened the heart of him to 
 whom it was addressed. " Her lover!" cried 
 he, loosening his hold of the bridles — " God 
 bless the girl, I would have carried her on my 
 own back had not the pony been at hand. She's 
 heartily welcome to it — heartily welcome I as- 
 sure you — and I beg you will make a thousand 
 apologies to my worthy allies here for my rude- 
 ness. But I don't stand trilling you see." 
 
 Moinard performed the task of conciliation full 
 as well as that of explanation ; the Spaniards 
 expressed themselves satisfied ; and after a few 
 parting shakes of the hand with the dandy and 
 the host, and a kiss each from Mannette, they 
 quickly wound up the hill, and were lost to us 
 
66 CARIBERT, 
 
 immediately. Moinard had next to deal with 
 the dandy. He very soon persuaded him to go 
 to bed, and recover the broken thread of his 
 repose : with assurances that Aline would be 
 back soon after day-light, to return his pony 
 and prepare his breakfast. His off-hand air 
 of sincerity quite composed the generous and 
 gentle dandy, who, without more ado, march- 
 ed, to my great satisfaction, straight forward 
 into his closet. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 As nearly half an hour had elapsed since the 
 departure of Aline, we lost no further time, but 
 stepped forward with a quick pace. Moinard 
 merely gave a few hints to Mannette for the 
 regulation of small household matters during 
 his absence, and then put his cap on his head, 
 took a staff in his hand, and led the way up 
 towards the mountain side. Claude and I fol- 
 lowed close upon his heels, and Pianger on ours. 
 The whole party was fresh and unincumbered, 
 as I had left my knapsack behind, having settled 
 that I was to return to the cottage, whatever 
 might be the result of our adventure. 
 
 It was then the month of August, no matter 
 in what year. The night had been misty, which 
 I knew was rather a reason to look for a bright 
 
6& 
 
 morning. The smooth even path as we went 
 along, and the deep conversation into which 
 we entered, beguiled our route; so that I was 
 somewhat surprised on casting my looks to- 
 wards the east, as we issued from a ravine about 
 half-way up the mountain's side, to find that the 
 dawn was beginning to break. I stopped for 
 a moment to take breath, for the ascent had 
 been very rapid. I gazed around me, and was 
 pleased to see the mists rising gradually up- 
 wards, and leaving the bottom of the valleys 
 clear. I distinguished the little river which had 
 narrowed as we mounted towards its source, and 
 the still smaller streamlets that trickled down 
 towards it, like skeins of silvery tissue hanging 
 on the heathy mantle which covered the moun- 
 tain. A fresh breeze came from the eastward 
 heralding the rising sun, and I marked appear- 
 ing above the horizon those prelusive beams 
 which he sends out, as avant-couriers, to clear 
 his path along the ways of heaven. Remem- 
 bering my disappointment of the preceding 
 morning, on the lop of the Pic du Midi, I was 
 resolved to be in time at the summit of Arbi- 
 zon, to see the first burst of the day-god as he 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 69 
 
 showed his splendent face to my portion of the 
 world. I gave, therefore, the hint to my guides, 
 and we pushed quickly on. My companions, 
 though more accustomed to the scene than I 
 was, seemed to participate in my anxiety. We 
 all abandoned for awhile the subject which had 
 lately given such interest to our conversation; 
 and paid, in silence, our homage to the sove- 
 reign whose levee we were hurrying to attend. 
 The vapours kept pace with us at first; they 
 mounted beside us for awhile, but soon out- 
 stripped our progress ; and as they left all clear 
 before us, we saw them blending gradually with 
 the clouds, which had already taken their high 
 stations close to the mountain's summit. As the 
 light increased, a gradual tone and appearance 
 of security seemed to accompany it on the earth. 
 The howling of the wolves, and the barking of 
 the shepherds' dogs, which had kept concert 
 during the night, now gave place to the hum of 
 insects. The eagles, sure of their way, came 
 two or three of them floating down through the 
 air, and seemed to pierce with keen gaze the 
 deepest recesses of the vale. The wild flowers 
 opened their bosoms, and freely shared their 
 
TO CARIBERT, 
 
 fragrant secrets with the breeze, that kissed 
 them as it passed upwards. All nature began 
 to robe itself for the coming ceremony. The 
 grey clouds assumed a variety of tinges of many 
 brilliant colours. The peaks rising here and 
 there above them shone in roseate hues ; and 
 the snow-heaps that lay on their granite beds 
 were covered with a deep blush of blended 
 crimson and purple. I hurried breathlessly 
 forward, for I feared I should be late. I found 
 that nature was too quick for me. I saw the 
 horizon covered with the yellow streaks, on 
 whose steps the sun treads so quickly. His 
 dazzling beams were fast piercing up the skies, 
 and the west of Heaven was glowing in all the 
 splendid mixture of bright colours which it 
 catches from reflection. I hastened on still 
 faster. I had taken the lead of my compa- 
 nions. I did not look at all before me, until 
 enveloped by thick mists, and losing all sight 
 of the beautiful panorama around me, I found 
 that we were actually in the clouds. 
 
 A pang of disappointment was my first sen- 
 sation, but I did not pause in my career. I 
 heard Claude and Moinard calling to me that 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 71 
 
 I was mounting too high from the path, but I 
 replied that -I would soon rejoin them. They 
 passed, and I rushed on. I hoped still to 
 find an opening through the vapours to catch 
 a glimpse of the world below me, blazing in all 
 the splendour of the fully risen luminary. The 
 mists told me that my hopes were Tain, and 
 that the moment was past, for they were all at 
 once illumined with a sudden rush of bright- 
 ness, that gave to every particle of which they 
 were composed a silver brilliancy, and seemed 
 to throw a glow of warmth into the atmosphere. 
 A few minutes more led me to the confines of 
 this bright veil. The pointed peaks of the moun- 
 tain began to appear — then the blue heaven 
 above — and, in another step or two, I had 
 passed the outward edge of the mist. I looked 
 round, and felt a thrill of awe shoot through 
 me, as I gazed on the solemnity of the scene. 
 As far as the eye could penetrate the apparently 
 boundless extent, a wide ocean of thick clouds 
 alone was visible below me, and the spotless 
 vault of heaven above. Not the slightest sign 
 of earth, or of man, was within view. The 
 heavy mass of congregated vapours, in their 
 
72 CAMBERTj 
 
 millions of involuted folds, brought at once to 
 my mind the notion of the universal deluge, 
 when the world of walers swept majestically 
 along, crushing and burying all trace of animal 
 and vegetable existence. I imagined the last 
 of living victims flying from the coming flood, 
 and hurrying his tottering steps to the summit 
 of the highest hill. I retreated involuntarily 
 upwards — and could have fled in the midst of 
 my abstraction, had not the out-bursting of the 
 glorious sun given a new and splendid character 
 to this most wonderful scene. He rushed up 
 rapidly from the mass of clouds into the clear 
 blue heaven. He flung no beams round him. 
 Nothing existed as a ground-work to throw 
 them out into shadow, or mark their palpable 
 touch. He was a ball of single and intolerable 
 splendour. My gaze was instantaneous, and 
 had nearly blinded me. I covered my eyes for 
 a moment, and when I looked again the whole 
 ocean of clouds was as a multitude of wreaths of 
 snow, enwrapped one over the other in folds of 
 dazzling whiteness. The scene was too splen- 
 did and loo sublime for my continued gaze. I 
 turned in search of relief, and caught, to the 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 73 
 
 southward, the wide extended chain of moun- 
 tains spreading to the right and left, and lost 
 in the imperfect light of their far distant li- 
 mits. 
 
 Barren and desolate as they looked, there 
 was still something in them which spoke of a 
 nature that was not strange to me. They were 
 palpable realities that recalled me to the world, 
 and brought home to me associations of huma- 
 nity. I looked on them in all their venerable 
 magnitude of form and extent, enthroned on 
 earth, and covered with the glow of heaven. 
 In all my reverence for their mightiness, I was 
 never so impressed with it as now. I felt them, 
 with their corresponding chains in various parts 
 of the world, superior to all the united wonders 
 of nature ; and ran over, in the half hour that 
 I stopped to gaze on them, in this new aspect, 
 the thoughts which, at a calmer moment, I 
 threw into the following form : — 
 
 Ye vast, immeasurable mounds ! 
 "What are your limits, where your bounds? 
 Oh ! when has labouring nature shown 
 Wonders as mighty as your own? 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 CARIBERT, 
 
 Which of her works is the compeer 
 Of such huge heaps as gather here? 
 Alps, Andes, Apennines, proud names. 
 What o'er your might precedence claims? 
 Does ocean boast its broad expanse? — 
 And can the eye within its glance 
 Grasp your stupendous magnitude ? 
 Its waves with thousand tints imbued ? — 
 And dares the colouring of the sea 
 With your wild shades seek rivalry ? 
 The dreary grandeur that must brave 
 The watchful wanderer of the wave?— 
 Oh ! how insipid to his eyes 
 Who feeds on your varieties, 
 Her pigmy undulations rise ! 
 What splendours do her caverns hold 
 Which are not in your caves enroll'd? 
 What is her widely vaunted store 
 To him who would her wilds explore ? 
 'Tis calm and tempest, wave and sky, 
 Sublime but sad monotony. 
 But in your realms what richness dwells ! 
 Pierce Sarancolin's crystal cells — 
 Explore each pass — range every vale — 
 What magic sweets perfume the gale ! 
 What colours o'er the hills are shed ! 
 The varied shades the pine-woods throw 
 Upon the rich cascades below — 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 75 
 
 Peaks deep empurpled — vales bespread 
 With rhododendron's crimson flowers, 
 
 And irises, so brightly blue, 
 'Twould seem as if Heaven sometimes showers 
 
 A rain of its own azure hue, 
 Whose moisture clothes the plants of earth 
 With brilliancy of purer birth. 
 
 The turbulent ocean leaps and lives 
 In pride of its prerogatives. 
 Vain pride ! as if to it were given 
 The power alone to rise tow'rds Heaven. 
 When the Creators loud command 
 Bade the wave sep'rate from the land, 
 To that alone was will'd the pride 
 Of motion — and to this denied? 
 Are not the mighty mountains rife 
 With germs of undeveloped life, 
 Embryo combustions which but lie 
 The slumbering lights of destiny? 
 Is ancient Idee's fate forgot? — 
 Or buried Pleur's more recent lot, 
 When Conto's loosen' d fragments fell, 
 Nor spared a voice the shock to tell, 
 But heap'd on high its earthy wave 
 O'er the crush' d thousands of one grave? 
 Go, gaze from Ocean's bounding bed 
 On angry Etna's flame-wrapp d head ; 
 
 e 2 
 
76 CAMBERT. 
 
 Mark, while you shrink with shuddering thrill. 
 
 The thick stream course the desolate hill ; 
 
 See the devoted hamlets fall, 
 
 As the live lava saps the wall, 
 
 Which yon proud city dared to raise, 
 
 A bulwark 'gainst the floating blaze. 
 
 View the pale habitants who sweep 
 
 Like spectres down the glaring steep. 
 
 In vain, in vain— they may not reach 
 
 The frail protection of the beach, 
 
 For see, the frighted waves recoil, 
 
 And shuddering shun the blasted soil ; 
 
 And on the mountains gaping side 
 
 Another crater opens wide — 
 
 Thicker the volumed smoke ascends — 
 
 More fierce the hot stream downwards bends — 
 
 In blackend gusts the ashes fly, 
 
 And hide the blaze that lit the sky. 
 
 Darkness is on the world ! — Again 
 
 By flames rebursting on the ken 
 
 The gloom is broke. Ye powers on high, 
 
 Is the sad scene reality? 
 
 The hill is heaving from its base— * 
 
 The tottering mountains change their place — 
 
 The valleys sink — rocks rise around — 
 
 New rivers bursting flood the ground : 
 
 Where are the beauteous hamlets gone? 
 
 Where hundreds stood there is not one. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. T? 
 
 Say, what has hush'd the shrieking crowd? 
 
 No voice breaks from the horrid shroud 
 
 That wraps in gloom the city's site — 
 
 Oh agony ! Oh ! direful light 
 
 That shows the truth ! Yon hideous blank 
 
 Yawns where engulph'd Catania sank! — 
 
 — Is not this motion? Do the waves 
 
 Of that soft sea which lightly laves, 
 
 Or whose worst ire but smooths the sand, 
 
 Bound like these billows of the land ? 
 
 Yours be the glory then, ye hills, 
 
 High as your own huge pinnacles, 
 
 To reign supreme, creations crest, 
 
 Magnific monuments of rest ! 
 
 But should your heaven communing spires 
 
 Shake their proud heads — and slumbering fires 
 
 Up from your opening wombs be huiTd, 
 
 To wrap the self-consuming world, 
 
 Ocean shall then roll pale with dread, 
 
 And sink beneath her scorching bed ! 
 
 While I stood on the topmost pinnacle of the 
 mountain, forgetful of all below me, I heard a 
 shot fired, and prepared to descend ,• and just 
 as I was about to plunge into the mist, I ob- 
 served Claude's head appearing through it. He 
 
78 CARIBERT, 
 
 and Moinard, utterly unable to comprehend my 
 proceedings, had begun to be alarmed for my 
 safety or my senses, and I soon understood that 
 their previous speed, which I supposed to arise 
 from sympathy with my sensations, was wholly 
 caused by that connected with poor Aline. The 
 sound of this name, and Claude's tone in pro- 
 nouncing it, acted like a spell upon my feelings, 
 and I was not free from self-reproach for having 
 abandoned for vague and shadowy abstractions, 
 the more rational subject of human interests 
 and passions. To make amends for my deser- 
 tion, I redoubled my speed on joining Moinard, 
 who had begun to trudge downwards, trusting to 
 the younger limbs of Claude and myself for his 
 being quickly overtaken. We had still a long 
 walk before us ere we could commence the 
 ascent of the Pic du Midi, the point of rendez- 
 vous with Aline. We soon entered deeply again 
 into the heart of our suuject. My companions 
 opened their minds as freely as they moved 
 their tongues, and I will take this oppor- 
 tunity of detailing to my readers the whole 
 substance of their disclosures, as well as that of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 79 
 
 some after conversations with Caribert's mother, 
 Aline, and others of the actors in the story. It 
 is impossible to separate the discourse of one 
 from that of the others, and for the sake of their 
 respective reputations, I shall throw the whole 
 into a narrative form, taking upon myself the 
 responsibility of its veracity and arrangement. 
 
SO CARIBERT, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 In the whole range of the Pyrenees, from the 
 ocean to the Mediterranean, from Mount Aralar 
 to Mount Canigou, there were not two finer 
 young fellows in their different natures than 
 Caribcrt and Claude. They were both born in 
 the district of Barrage. They were the admira- 
 tion of the neighbourhood in infancy, its hope 
 in boyhood, and its pride in youth. When as 
 children they sported about the cottages of their 
 respective parents, or later began to clamber up 
 the mountains in search of young eagles, or in 
 pursuit of a wounded izard, the fathers used to 
 shake their heads and rub their hands together, 
 and the mothers to smile and look up thankfully 
 to heaven ,— all four agreeing that there were 
 no lads like them to be seen any where. This 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 81 
 
 was a questionable sort of testimony, no doubt, 
 but it was borne out by the general opinion ; 
 and when a few years brought the persons and 
 characters of the two friends into full develope- 
 ment, the parental prophecies were amply 
 realized. 
 
 Caribert and Claude were sworn friends. 
 They had rendered each other a thousand reci- 
 procal services, and were united by ties of gra- 
 titude, unrelaxed by humiliating feelings of 
 benefits received without equivalent. Their 
 pursuits were in most instances as much alike 
 as their means of attaining them were distinct. 
 They both loved with all their heart, and fol- 
 lowed with all their strength, the exercises suit- 
 able to their age. But while Caribert delighted 
 in winning from every competitor the prize of 
 feats of power, Claude's ambition was to carry 
 off the palm in trials of agility and skill. He 
 was the fastest runner and the best leaper be- 
 tween the Gave and the Neste. No one pitched 
 the stone or wrestled so well as Caribert. They 
 both triumphed, and neither felt any .jealousy of 
 his friend. 
 
 They were hunters by profession, as their 
 
82 
 
 fathers had heen before them. They were pas- 
 sionately fond of the sport, but they followed it 
 in a different spirit. Claude, with his rifle flung 
 across his shoulder, rarely allowed the rising 
 sun to surprise him in his bed, for at the earliest 
 dawn he was generally far up the mountain, fol- 
 lowing the track of the herds of izards, or cau- 
 tiously singling out some straggling victim of his 
 almost unerring aim. Garibert was quite as 
 eager in the pursuit of his game, but it was of 
 another kind. He scorned the chase of the 
 timid izard, left almost entirely to his father the 
 care of providing the number necessary for the 
 food of the family, and scarcely condescended 
 to pursue the wolves that fled from his shout in 
 the summer season. In winter, when hunger 
 gave them courage, he would sometimes meet 
 their attack ; but the objects of his prowess were 
 in all seasons, at all times of the day or night, 
 the fierce and powerful bears which abounded 
 in his neighbourhood. For them he was always 
 ready, with his two favourite dogs at his heels, 
 his strong gaiters, his leathern doublet, his 
 large clasp-knife, and his trusty pike. Thus 
 equipped he used to accompany his old and 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 83 
 
 hardy father, who inspired him on in boyhood 
 by details of his former feats, and who was 
 happy to see the deeds of his own youth often 
 surpassed by those of his son and the successor 
 to Jhis celebrity. 
 
 But the subject on which Claude and Caribert 
 showed at once the greatest sympathy and 
 widest difference— was love. They had both 
 nearly at the same period felt the first symptoms 
 of attachment to the self-same object. I need 
 not name her, or if I must, to avoid obscurity, 
 to Aline. Claude had first known, and conse- 
 quently first loved her. He was her near neigh- 
 bour, and his sisters were her friends. He had 
 scarcely reached manhood when he lost both his 
 parents, and was left the sole protector of three 
 sisters, one older and the others younger than 
 himself. This constant association with females 
 added to the natural tenderness of his character, 
 while the care of a family increased its prudence. 
 A growing passion for such a girl as Aline had 
 alone been wanting to make him one of the 
 steadiest, as he had been before one of the kind- 
 est lads in the world. 
 
 Caribert seldom or never came down towards 
 
84 CAMBERT, 
 
 the low country. There was nothing he dis- 
 liked so much as the level ground ; and he was 
 not fond of female society. He had neither 
 sisters nor brothers. He loved his mother well 
 enough, but he doted on his father. The 
 roughness of the old man's character, his despe- 
 rate and reckless courage, and contempt of all 
 the softer pursuits of life, deeply influenced the 
 congenial mind of Caribert; so much so, that 
 he often reproached his friend Claude with what 
 he called his effeminacy, and resisted for some 
 time his pressing request to submit to an intro- 
 duction to Aline. After much soliciting, how- 
 ever, he consented, and came across the hill 
 on a fine evening, when the fete day of one 
 of Claude's sisters was celebrating at his cottage. 
 A joyous party of the neighbours was assem- 
 bled, and the dance was proceeding merrily on 
 the grass-plat in front of the cottage, when Cari- 
 bert made his appearance. Every eye was 
 quickly turned towards him; many a joke, and 
 welcome, and expression of surprise were lavish- 
 ed upon his presence at such a scene. He re- 
 plied to all with a joyous air ; but his whole at- 
 tention was soon attracted towards one of the 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 85 
 
 dancers, whose manner and appearance struck 
 him as something quite superior to those of many 
 of her prettier companions, Claude saw this 
 with delight, and it was not unobserved, or un- 
 relished by Aline herself, for it was on her 
 that Caribert's eyes were so firmly fixed. She 
 had previously heard a great deal of this re- 
 doubtable hunter, and had once had a glimpse 
 of him, as he pursued with one of his compa- 
 nions, a more than commonly ferocious wolf that 
 had ravaged the whole district, for many days, 
 and had finally met its death from his well- 
 nerved arm. Her imagination had been full 
 of the hero, for he was such in his narrow sphere 
 of action, but she had always pictured him as 
 she had seen him in his coarse hunter's costume, 
 his pike in his hand, and his face and person 
 animated with rage. She could scarcely believe 
 it to be the same person who was now pointed 
 out to her, smartly dressed in a Spanish doublet 
 and hose, a blue sash round his waist, and a 
 bunch of rhododendron blooming gaily in his 
 hat, in honour of his friend's sister, and to fit him 
 for a place at her fete. 
 
 Aline listened and sought in vain for a surly 
 
86 
 
 tone of voice or a savage look. She heard and 
 saw only lively and gracious words freely given 
 to his acquaintance, and a gaze of admiration 
 and something very like tenderness turned 
 towards her. She possessed as little vanity as 
 almost any of her sex. hut she was very highly- 
 pleased notwithstanding ; and I who have seen 
 her, can well imagine what an animated and 
 graceful expression threw itself insensibly into 
 her looks and attitudes. 
 
 "When the dance was ended , and its temporary 
 partnerships dissolved, Claude was stepping for- 
 ward to introduce Caribert to Aline ; but he was 
 anticipated in his intention by the quicker move- 
 ment of the former, who was resolved to do 
 himself that kind office— for he hated ceremony. 
 He accordingly moved towards her, and in his 
 best manner requested she would dance next 
 with him. She consented readily, nay, with 
 pleasure, and that point settled. Caribert turn- 
 ed carelessly round to his friend. Claude was 
 quite gratified at what was passing. He was 
 only astonished how any one could at first sight 
 go so boldly up to one whom he durst scarcely 
 approach after months of intimacy, and he 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 87 
 
 could not help saying to himself, " Ah ! if he 
 loved her but ever so little, how he would shrink 
 back when he most wished to be near her." 
 
 The mind of Caribert was not of that stamp. 
 It was ardent and impetuous. It followed its 
 object ever at full speed, and knew none of those 
 tardy and hesitating movements which distin- 
 guished that of Claude. This meeting with 
 Aline was an era in his life, and his whole bearing 
 bore instant evidence of the importance of the 
 event. When the dance recommenced, he led 
 his partner forth with a feeling of confidence 
 and triumph. His whole frame was animated, 
 and his look and manner in unison. He danced 
 and talked with a vivacity which astonished 
 Aline the more, as his energy had nothing what- 
 ever of violence in it. In one of the pauses, 
 she expressed her surprise that so proverbial a 
 despiser of the amusement should appear to 
 enjoy the dance as he did. 
 
 "Why," said he, "I don't forget what I 
 learnt and loved when a child; and never since 
 then have I felt as I do this evening. My nature 
 seems quite changed — turned back into those 
 times of happiness." 
 
88 CARIBERT, 
 
 The look which accompanied this speech 
 made Aline blush to the eyes, and caused her 
 heart to flutter. " Oh! I meant/' replied she, 
 that I did not expect to find a bear hunter so 
 good a dancer, that's all." "Why so?" re- 
 turned he; "even the bears under this rough 
 hand of mine could learn to dance ; and surely 
 I should be worse than the brutes if I could not 
 do as much, when guided by yours." 
 
 He here took her hand in his ; and though I 
 by no means imply that Aline's could bear any 
 comparison with those delicate members of the 
 many fair readers who will yet, I trust, turn 
 over this page, I have no doubt whatever but 
 that it acknowledged the pressure of the ardent 
 Caribert's, just in the proper proportion of 
 mountain sentiment, actingupon manual feeling. 
 
 It is not necessary that I should record any 
 further specimens of the conversation of the — 
 lovers, for so I must plainly call them. They 
 were so to all intents, aye, and purposes. The 
 labours of united years could not unravel the 
 web that entwined itself round their hearts in 
 the course of that short evening. Caribert felt 
 as if born anew. He seemed to have found in 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 89 
 
 one moment of mere chance what had been 
 wanting to him all his life, and a sudden con- 
 viction appeared to tell him that his whole life 
 was from that moment engaged and devoted 
 to her. 
 
 She on her part could scarcely fathom the 
 depth of her feelings, they were so totally new, 
 so mixed, and so astonishing. She did not know 
 what to make of either Garibert or herself. He 
 was so very, very unlike what she expected; 
 and she so utterly changed from what she had 
 been. She had never cared much for dancing 
 beyond the pleasure of seeing her friends — now 
 she felt as if she could go on trippingly for ever, 
 and was quite disappointed and unhappy when 
 the music ceased. She was no great talker in 
 general, and used to listen with but little interest 
 to the common topics of her rustic friends; yet 
 she now seemed to have acquired the faculty and 
 the desire of perpetual speech, and she devoured 
 every word uttered by Caribert, although on 
 summing up what he said, she actually found 
 it to relate to nothing more than the commonest 
 matter connected with their respective ways of 
 life. She thought all this very wonderful, and 
 
90 CARIBERT, 
 
 so it was, in fact, — wonderful, although of 
 every day occurrence; and defying solution, 
 although there are few of my readers, I am sure 
 ( at least I hope so for their sakes ) , who have 
 not once in their lives had experience of it all. 
 When the gaieties of the evening were fairly 
 over, and the stars just beginning to open their 
 dance in the heavens, the parly broke up, and 
 the guests took each their separate ways, up 
 hill and down dale, towards their homely beds. 
 I like to picture to my imagination the different 
 groups as they moved across the mountains, the 
 youths in their graceful costumes, the girls half 
 covered by the scarlet hoods, called capulets, 
 universally worn in those parts, and amazingly 
 picturesque at a little distance, when contrasted 
 with the bright green colours of the mountain, 
 or the rich hue of the flowers scattered in broad 
 patches on the grass. Both Claude and Cari- 
 bert formed Aline's escort to her home. They 
 had a league to walk, and it was very quickly 
 completed. There was a great deal of conver- 
 sation on the way, but it was entirely between 
 Caribert and Aline. They both talked fluently, 
 and thus seemed almost to forget the presence 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 91 
 
 of Claude, who had no wish to take part in the 
 discourse, being quite satisfied to feel Aline's 
 arm on his, and quite happy to see a new proof of 
 her power, as exemplified in Caribert's loquacity. 
 Old Moinard and little Mannette met them at 
 the door. The former welcomed Claude warm- 
 ly, and received his friend rather ceremoniously. 
 He had a penetrating eye and a calculating head, 
 and as my readers may recollect from the hints 
 of Senor Manuel, was a man of a worldly and 
 money-making turn. He saw with one glance 
 that Caribert might become the rival of Claude. 
 He had heard a great deal of him, and knew 
 him a little, and putting together what folks said, 
 and what he saw, he was quite convinced that 
 such a one would stand a thousand chances 
 to one, in a contest with Claude, for the affec- 
 tions of a girl of Aline's disposition. He disliked, 
 moreover, the character of Caribert's father, 
 particularly that portion of his reputation which 
 stamped him as a very poor man, who had ever 
 enough to do to make both ends meet through 
 life, and who never knew any thing of comfort, 
 unless eating venison three or four times a-week 
 from necessity, not choice, might be reckoned as 
 
02 CARIBERT, 
 
 such. Claude, on the other hand, was the pro- 
 prietor, jointly with his sisters, of a very nice 
 spot of ground, and a comfortable cottage, and 
 likely from his steady habits to do well in the 
 world. He had Moinard's best wishes in his 
 suit to Aline, and it was therefore that Caribert 
 failed to share in the warm reception he now 
 met with. 
 
 Aline saw, or thought she saw, into her fa- 
 ther's thoughts. She felt as if she had done 
 something wrong, she could not tell why or 
 wherefore, and did not venture to invite Cari- 
 bert into the house. Moinard was determined 
 to cut the visit short, before he got across the 
 threshold. 
 
 "Thank ye, my lads, bolh, for the care of 
 my girl. You have a smart walk home, and 
 the night looks rather gloomy. I'll not pay 
 you a bad compliment by asking you to stay 
 longer. Good night! We shall see you to- 
 morrow, Claude. You know Aline won't ex- 
 cuse a day's absence. I should be very happy, 
 Monsieur Caribert, should you look in on us 
 now and then when you are passing ; if indeed, 
 you will deign to have an acquaintance who 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 93 
 
 lives lower down than five thousand feet above 
 the level of the sea. Good night, my lads, — 
 no compliments — come, girls, to bed, to bed.'* 
 
 With these words, and a multitude of saluta- 
 tions, he retired into the cottage. Claude was 
 accustomed to the ways of his anticipated father- 
 in-law, and did not see any thing extraordinary 
 in all this. As to Caribert, he was insensible to 
 the coldness and sarcasm of Moinard's manner ; 
 it was enough for him that he was invited to the 
 house by the highest authority; he was disposed 
 to consider every thing and every body warm 
 and cordial, and he was quite resolved to give 
 a speedy proof of his condescension. 
 
 On their way back to Claude's cottage, the 
 friends seemed to have completely changed cha- 
 racters. Claude talked without a moment's cessa- 
 tion, so that one might have almost thought he 
 had also changed his sex (craving the sex's par- 
 don), had not a woman been the sole subject of 
 his chatter. He had always been fluent with 
 Caribert in his praises of Aline, but he now ex- 
 ceeded all his former loquacity. He ran on in 
 her praise, ringing every possible change into 
 which it could be turned, and appealing at every 
 
94 CARIBERT, 
 
 moment to his companion for a confirmation of 
 his eulogiums. But he found no reply in the 
 voice of Caribert, although every encomium was 
 deeply echoed in his heart. Claude had it all 
 to himself as far as talking went, while Caribert 
 enjoyed in his own way, in secresy and silence, 
 a full participation in all the pleasures of his 
 friend. They parted at the little path which 
 turned off close by Claude's cottage, and Cari- 
 bert pursued his road up the mountain towards 
 his own residence, to prepare, as he told his 
 friend on parting, for a chase in the distant 
 gorge of Gavernie, which was fixed for the fol- 
 lowing morning. 
 
 How the different parties passed this night it 
 is hard precisely to say. Mannette declared that 
 Aline disturbed her from lying down to getting 
 up, heaving heavy sighs and muttering broken 
 scraps of sentences in her sleep, which could 
 scarcely be called sleep; and yet, that her 
 countenance wore, notwithstanding, a constant 
 smile from the time she was able to see it, when 
 the dawn first peeped in at the lattice window. 
 It was remarked by Claude's sisters, that he 
 arose the morning after the fete with an air of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. ilu 
 
 freshness and triumph much unlike his usual 
 timid and modest manner. He seemed proud of 
 having gained a victory over the obstinacy of 
 Caribert, and happy in having made him sensi- 
 ble of what a treasure he was in hopes of one 
 day possessing. We may guess how Caribert's 
 hours were employed, for soon after day^break 
 he was the first object seen by Claude, as the 
 latter turned out upon the heath equipped for 
 his morning sport. 
 
 "Why, Caribert," cried Claude, "you can 
 scarcely have been in bed, if you have walked 
 home and back since we parted last night. 
 Where are you bound to ? This is not the road 
 to Gavernie." 
 
 " No, Claude, I have not been in bed. The 
 fact is, that I loitered about the mountain think- 
 ing of one thing and another, — I scarcely know 
 what, until the dawn was almost appearing; and 
 when I reached home at last, I found my father 
 quite restless and uneasy at my absence, and 
 beginning to get ready for the chase, so I did 
 not think it worth while to lie down and keep 
 him waiting. That's the truth." 
 
96 CARIBERT, 
 
 " But you did not accompany him, it seems, 
 How's that?" 
 
 " Faith, I scarcely know how. But I was 
 disinclined to go. I believe the fact is that the 
 dancing tired me last night." 
 
 "The devil it did! you didn't come down 
 the hill just now like a tired man, for all that. 
 What excuse did you make to your father?" 
 
 "Why to tell you the truth, Claude, I was 
 obliged to invent a little bit of a lie. I told him 
 I had a head-ache — and in fact I have not been 
 quite well," added Garibert, putting his hand 
 to his side and drawing a long sigh. 
 
 " I am sorry for that, though," replied Claude ; 
 " will you step in and take something? The girls 
 are all up. I have just had a cup of chocolate 
 — realBayonne, that was given us by Monsieur 
 Moinard. Come and have a cup — it will re- 
 fresh you." 
 
 "No* thank you, let's walk about a little. I 
 like the sharp morning air." 
 
 et Well then, come up the mountain with me. 
 I am going after the eight izards that we saw 
 grazing on Pic Arbizon last night, and looking 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 97 
 
 down on us so saucily, while we were dancing. 
 It's all in your way — it's up hill. I know you're 
 not fond of the low grounds. " 
 
 " Why no, not this morning, thank ye." 
 
 " What the deuce will you do then? What 
 in the name of the Virgin brought you down 
 this way?" asked Claude, smiling. 
 
 " Why, you see, Claude, I thought it would 
 be only civil to step over and ask your sisters 
 how they were after the dance. One must be 
 civil, you know, to the girls." 
 
 " What, you've found out that at last, Cari- 
 bert, have you? Come, that's good. Mount 
 Perdu may move at last to Bagneres, in spite of 
 the proverb. Miracles will never cease, that's 
 certain." And here Claude indulged himself in 
 a hearty laugh. 
 
 " The truth is, my dear Claude, your sisters 
 were very kind to me last night, and I don't like 
 to seem insensible, and I don't know how it was, 
 but Jeanneton looked prettier than usual. She 
 is the youngest, isn't she ?" 
 
 " No, to be sure not. Aimee is twenty-two 
 months her junior." 
 
 " Well, one would not have thought it. I'll 
 
 VOL. I. f 
 
98 
 
 step in and see the girls, Claude, if you go on 
 after the enemy." 
 
 At these words a light seemed to break in 
 all at once on Claude's perception ; and it was 
 accompanied by a warm ray of pleasure. It 
 seemed as if the thing he most wished for on earth 
 (except one) was coming about,- — an attachment 
 between his friend and his sister. Every thing 
 appeared clear to him. He now easily account- 
 ed for Garibert's attention to Aline, and his not 
 having spoken six words to Jeanneton the whole 
 preceding evening. <e He loves little Jeanneton 
 just as I do Aline — he durst not speak to her — 
 that's the whole secret," said Claude to himself, 
 as he shook Caribert's hand heartily, and wished 
 him good morning. Caribert saw with the keen 
 eye of a lover what was so legible on his friend's 
 fine, open, honest countenance. He could not 
 undeceive him just then, nor yet reconcile him- 
 self to the double part he was playing, as it 
 were, in spite of his conscience ; but after loiter- 
 ing about for a few minutes as Claude walked 
 quickly on, heat last called after him, — " I say, 
 Claude, just stop a minute — I say, what do you 
 think? wouldn't it be but right— that is, might 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. ( J 
 
 it not look uncivil, or — not downright uncivil, 
 but inattentive, not just to step over and ask 
 Monsieur Moinard how he does ? You know 
 he asked us last night ; you remember that, 
 don't you? You heard him?" 
 
 " Oh, it is not at all necessary, my good 
 fellow/' replied Claude, " I don't stand on ce- 
 remony there. I am quite at home with the 
 family. Besides I know that Monsieur Moinard 
 is gone out to Sarancolin this morning." 
 
 '.' Is he?" exclaimed Garibert, briskly; and 
 then added involuntarily, but in an under voice, 
 " thank God!" 
 
 " What do you say?" asked Claude. 
 
 " Sayl Oh! nothing, but that it is rather un- 
 fortunate. — But Claude, you wouldn't step over 
 to inquire after Mademoiselle Aline ? Do you 
 know, I think she coughed a little last night on 
 her way home; and she expects you to day, re- 
 member — her father said that. You remarked 
 that, didn't you?" 
 
 " Oh, that was nothing; at all events she 
 does not expect me at five o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. Besides, I'll call as I go round the hill on 
 my return home, and hope to leave an izard 
 
 f2 
 
100 
 
 there in the place of that packet of chocolate, do 
 yousee; and as to Aline's having a little cough, 
 why you don't think she minds such a thing as 
 that ? You take her for something wonderfully 
 delicate." 
 
 " Oh, not at all. It was entirely on your 
 account I mentioned it; because, you know, I 
 should not like you to seem inattentive to your 
 mistress." 
 
 " My dear friend !" exclaimed Claude, giving 
 Caribert's hand a squeeze, which seemed to shoot 
 to his heart like a dagger's point. " But to 
 tell you the honest truth," added Claude, " I 
 never go near Aline when her father is out of 
 the way. I am somehow awkward and uneasy 
 at the thoughts of being alone with her." 
 
 " Well, never mind that," said Caribert, a 
 new hope overpowering his passing feelings of 
 self-reproach; " I don't care if I go down with 
 you myself — sooner than you should seem want- 
 ing in civility." 
 
 " No, no," replied Claude, " I'll be hanged 
 if you shall outdo me in generosity. No, go in 
 and see little Jeanneton, that will do better. I 
 am sure, into the bargain, that Moinard will be 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. '• 1 
 
 back by nine o'clock, for he expects a convoy of 
 tobacco from Jaca at that hour." 
 M Does he, indeed, so soon?" 
 " Why, did you know any thing of it?" 
 V Oh, not a word, but — you see it is entirely on 
 your account — I am anxious that you shouldn't 
 be late in your visit — you have no time to lose, 
 for those eight bouncers may lead you a long 
 chase. So good bye, Claude ; we may meet 
 again to-day. — Good bye." 
 
 " Adieu, my dear fellow, adieu! success and 
 good speed 1" were the parting words of Claude ; 
 and Caribert having gazed after him for a mo- 
 ment, turned his steps towards the cottage. 
 
 After a short time passed in the ceremonies of 
 a formal visit, to which the embarrassment of 
 Caribert and the astonishment of the three sis- 
 ters added a more than common awkwardness, 
 he rose to take leave ; and having professed a 
 change of his original plan, and an intention of 
 rejoining Claude on the hills, he retired. He 
 lounged slowly up the mountain as long as he 
 thought there was any chance of observation 
 from the cottage, and then reluming round a 
 
1 02 CARIBERT 
 
 projecting angle of rock, he struck off at his 
 quickest pace straight towards the north, in the 
 direction of Moinard's residence. His mind was 
 full of Aline, and as he argued by an analogy 
 very common, I believe, with lovers of his tem- 
 perament, he could not help believing she was 
 thinking of him. Now without pushing too far 
 the theory of secret sympathies, I hope lam not 
 out of nature in saying, that Aline reckoned it 
 an almost moral certainty, that Caribert would 
 pay her a visit that morning. He did not say 
 a word of the kind the evening before. But 
 whatever was the cause of the feeling, obvious 
 or occult, so it was that Aline was loitering 
 about the skirts of a patch of pine-wood, at 
 some distance from the house, and on an emi- 
 nence that commanded a full view of the only 
 way by which Caribert was at all likely to ap- 
 proach. She had not been long thus stationed, 
 when the figure of a man, approaching rapidly, 
 caught her eye. She started, and looked again 
 — it might be Claude. But no, the blue sash of 
 the evening before, the stature shorter than his, 
 the bearing loftier, and the step more firm, left 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 403 
 
 no doubt on her mind as to the identity, even 
 before the subdued beam of the naturally fiery 
 eye was quite apparent, as Garibert took off his 
 cap, and made his respectful yet animated sa- 
 lutation. 
 
1 04 CARIBERT, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I must leave to the imagination of my read- 
 ers the particulars of the stolen interview which 
 concluded the last chapter. I had no means of 
 coming at them accurately, and should have 
 spoiled the recital by a pretended description of 
 what may be easily fancied, and at best but 
 difficultly detailed. The lovers had to sustain a 
 severe contest of conflicting sentiments ; but 
 these were evidently increased, as the full em- 
 barrassment of their situation ripened during the 
 four months that followed their eventful meet- 
 ing at Claude's cottage. 
 
 Aline gave the reins to her strong attachment 
 with a clear conscience, for its progress was not 
 attended with one act or thought that could be 
 construed into a reproach. Caribert was the 
 most respectful though the most passionate of 
 
THE LEAR HUNTER. 105 
 
 lovers. He prized her modesty while he almost 
 worshipped her mind; and he felt that, in her 
 influence over him, at least, she was as far supe- 
 rior to her station and her associates, as he 
 knew himself to he above his. . I am not, in re- 
 cording this, at all desirous of making my 
 readers forget the rank in life of this couple, or 
 of throwing any mystifying exaggerations over 
 their character and manners. I am merely 
 judging them and painting them, as they knew 
 themselves — in comparison with their fellows. 
 
 But added to the strength of Aline's under- 
 standing, which told her she had no reproaches 
 to make herself, she had also a very feeling heart, 
 which was continually whispering her that she 
 was about to cause much unhappiness to others. 
 Claude had never said that he loved her; that is, 
 he had never said so in the vulgar tongue ; but 
 he was everlastingly declaring his passion in that 
 natural and voiceless language whose idioms are 
 of all others the easiest to comprehend, for they 
 are suited alike to the apprehensions of the 
 prince and the peasant. She was perfectly aware 
 of the state of his heart, and of the suffering he 
 was preparing for himself. She wished to check 
 
1 06 CAMBER* 
 
 this ; but to do so effectually, she must have be- 
 trayed her attachment to his friend ,* and the 
 price she was forced to pay for its indulgence 
 washer sympathy with the anticipated sufferings 
 of Claude. Then she was contravening the avow- 
 ed wishes of her father, and obliged to conceal 
 her own under an appearance of contentment 
 which it was almost intolerable to assume, for 
 she was the most uneasy of mortals, except in 
 her stolen meetings wilh Garibert, and even then 
 any thing but free from anxiety. 
 
 But if she had her cares, and it will be ad- 
 mitted that she had, those of Garibert were a 
 thousand times more poignant, for they were 
 founded on the conviction of his hypocrisy and 
 injustice to more than one individual. To attain 
 his purpose of being frequently in the presence 
 of Aline, and almost always near her, he was 
 forced to put on the treacherous semblance of 
 another attachment, not only to the guileless 
 Claude, but to the innocent Jeanneton, its pre- 
 tended object, By such a pretence alone he 
 was able to account to the former for his daily 
 visits to the cottage, and his nightly lingerings 
 with the circle of its unsuspecting tenants. It 
 
THE fcEAR HUNTER. 1 07 
 
 was very rarely that he could, by the greatest 
 stretch of ingenuity, snatch a stolen visit to the 
 clump of pine-trees during the day time ; for to 
 make it safe a concurrence of lucky circumstances 
 was necessary : the absence of Moinard in one 
 direction, lhat of Claude in another, and the un- 
 interrupted occupation of the three sisters with- 
 in the house. It would be endless to enumerate 
 the difficulties in the way of this coincidence. In 
 wet weather Moinard was generally at home. 
 When it was fair, either Jeanneton or her sisters 
 were sure to be employed on the hills, attending 
 the little flock of sheep or goats, knitting or in 
 some other out-of-door work; while the path 
 down to the place of rendezvous, and even that 
 spot itself, were quite visible from an hundred 
 paces beyond the cottage. Often too, when all 
 circumstances up the hill favoured his views, 
 and Caribert, after many manoeuvres to ensure 
 them, moved downwards, breathless with expec- 
 tation, and with a thousand tender and animated 
 feelings ready to pour out in a flood of natural 
 eloquence into ihe ear of her who was their in- 
 spiration, he has reached the grove, where he 
 pictured her anxiously awaiting his arrival, and 
 
108 
 
 found a chill and comfortless blank in the place 
 •where she ought to have been. Many embar- 
 rassing obstacles have on these occasions kept 
 her at home ; but it was not within the range of 
 Caribert's mind, to seek for relief in such disap- 
 pointments by picturing hers, and sympathising 
 with them, rather than brooding over his own. 
 Every check of this kind turned inwards upon 
 him, and acting on an irritable temper and ner- 
 vous constitution, made him dissatisfied and 
 angry with all the world, not excepting himself, 
 and even her ! The fit once over, he execrated 
 his violence of feeling, and found in its exami- 
 nation another subject of self-reproach. Then, 
 after a long and fruitless watch, he wound his 
 way wearily up towards home ; where he met 
 with a mixture of harsh reproval from his father, 
 vexed at his frequent absences, and a leazing 
 display of affection from his mother, which was 
 not a bit more soothing. 
 
 He made several visits to Moinard's cottage, 
 accompanied by Claude, who let the old man 
 into the unreal secret of Caribert's affection for 
 Jeanneton, and thus quieted all his alarms. He 
 was quite deceived by the circumspect air of the 
 
THE BEAR HUNTLR. 1 09 
 
 actual lovers — but there was nothing iu these 
 snatches of happiness that satisfied the impe- 
 tuous soulof Caribert, thirsting for a long draught 
 of undisturbed and secret joy. Alone with Claude 
 he was on thorns. He could speak to Aline for 
 ever — of her never. Her name seemed buried 
 in the deep recesses of his breast; and the bab- 
 bling praises of his friend were only torments 
 to him, as so far short of what he felt, but could 
 not utter. 
 
 It was thus that night only was suited to his 
 purpose, and scarcely one passed over him with- 
 out a stolen hour or hurried moment, as circum- 
 stances stood his friend. The arrival of the Spa- 
 nish smugglers, or the sound sleep of Moinard, 
 permitted Aline on most occasions to quit the 
 house ; and if the weather, or matters within 
 were such as to prevent her reaching the pine 
 grove, Caribert was sure to come down in spile 
 of her remonstrances, often as far as the cattle 
 sheds, to snatch one short embrace, one low 
 muttered " good night," or " God bless you," 
 and think himself well paid for his time and his 
 temerity. But, although his frame was as robust 
 as his mind was ardent, this continued and un- 
 
1 1 CARIBEUT, 
 
 sparing exposure to the night air in all weather, 
 and in the winter season, began to make visible 
 ravages upon him. The snow now lay thick 
 upon the mountain tops, the chill airs swept in- 
 cessantly across them, and heavy mists settled 
 early in the evenings along the whole chain of 
 hills. The fevered state of Caribert's mind was 
 in unison with his physical temperament. Little 
 or no repose, poornourishment^ continual damp 
 and cold, brought on frequent attacks of illness 
 that he despised too much to attend to. All the 
 habits of his life were changed. For many 
 weeks he had never taken his pike-staff in his 
 hand,, or followed the chase. The violent ex- 
 ercise to which his former pursuits had forced 
 him , was ill replaced by his walks down the moun 
 tain, and the chill and shivering delays which 
 were often the fruit of his exertions. Every thing 
 seemed going wrong with both his mind and 
 body. The harassing energies of the first fell 
 with dreadful weight upon the latter; and this 
 in its turn seemed to throw the whole burthen 
 of its evils upon the brain; for rheumatisms, 
 rheums, and such common consequences of a 
 life like Garibert's, seemed repulsed from his 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 111 
 
 constitution by some powerful amulet, that it 
 might have puzzled even the doctors to ana- 
 lyze. 
 
 He made light of physical pain; but moral 
 suffering began to bow him down. His hunter 
 companions looked on him coldly. They never 
 loved him, for he plainly felt them to be his 
 inferiors. His only claim on their regard, 
 intrepid daring, was now no longer evident. He 
 seemed to shrink from their bold pursuits. The 
 wolves pressed on towards the flocks and the 
 cottages, urged by the early approach of winter ; 
 the bears growled fiercely round the hamlets ; 
 but Caribert was no longer sensible to their 
 spirit-stirring notes of defiance. Reproaches and 
 sarcastic hints met him at every turn. He bit 
 his lips, and his distempered spirit fed fiercely 
 on such nourishment. He had a thousand 
 times resolved to open his mind to Claude, to 
 undeceive Jeanneton, and boldly demand the 
 hand of Aline from her father. But when he 
 reflected on the web of many falsehoods in 
 which he was entangled, his proud mind could 
 not brook the humiliation, and he went on in 
 his career in that wild and uncalculating way so 
 
1 1 2 CARIBERT, 
 
 common to tempers like his, and so much the 
 more uncontrolable, from the strong contrast it 
 presented to his former reserved and isolated 
 existence. The eternal attentions of his mother, 
 the condolements of Claude, the open heart- 
 ed sorrow of Jeannelon, and the sympathy of 
 her sisters, did nothing for the improvement 
 of the state of health which they one and 
 all deplored. Aline, the most interested of 
 all, knew nothing of her lover's illness. 
 However he might suffer when away from 
 her — however his gnawing remorse might fly 
 upwards, when Jeanneton smiled sweetly and 
 innocently on him, or Claude opened his se- 
 crets to him with a brother's freedom — in the 
 presence of his heart's idol he knew no ail- 
 ment. His nerves were free, his spirit seemed 
 at large, and the stream of his impassioned 
 language in those moments of hope and hap- 
 piness showed nothing of the billerness of the 
 source from which it flowed. He saw her lat- 
 terly entirely at night. The pale reflexion of a 
 wintry moon-beam thrown back from a bed of 
 snow, was calculated to display unfavourably 
 his cheeks,, which were wan and hollow. But 
 
THE BEAR 11USTER. 113 
 
 his bright eye, his fluent speech, and animated 
 accents, gave the lie to apprehensions of his 
 altered state; and he parried her remarks on 
 that visible thinness which could not be con- 
 cealed, by affectionate and arch reproaches on 
 the encouragement she gave to a passion, which 
 he told her never made men fat, 
 
 But once out of her sight, he had no shadow 
 of gaiety reflected from the sombre ground of his 
 thoughts and feelings. He left her often with 
 a light and buoyant forgetfulness of all but her ; 
 but as soon as he had watched her to the house, 
 and heard the door close as she entered, the spell 
 seemed dissolved, and he trudged homewards 
 with a heavy heart and bursting head. 
 
 The day at last approached which was fixed 
 on by destiny to terminate this state of suffering. 
 The month of March had arrived ; and though 
 spring had already begun to wave his light 
 wings, in the genial warmth of the valleys, 
 winter still maintained possession of the moun- 
 tains. One morning, when old Lareole, Cari- 
 bert's father, had ineffectually tried to persuade 
 his son to accompany him to the chase, the lat- 
 ter set outto pay his accustomed visit to Claude's 
 
114 CARIBERT, 
 
 cottage ; and, after seeing that all was right there, 
 the sisters being employed within, and Claude 
 gone out to shoot, he proceeded to the pine- 
 grove, and was disappointed by not finding 
 Aline, as she had promised. He was met by 
 Mannelte, who acted the part of a very faith- 
 ful confidant, and occasional scout and messen- 
 ger. She was proud of being in the secret, of 
 she knew not exactly what, between Aline and 
 her lover, and she the more readily obeyed their 
 injunctions of secrecy as to their meetings, from 
 the circumstance of Caribert's constant good 
 nature towards her. He had made her several 
 presents, never came openly to the cottage with- 
 out bringing her a large bouquet of rhododen 
 dron, wild roses, or odorous myrtle, and had 
 completely won her heart by a gift of the eagle, 
 by which my readers will recollect I was saluted 
 on my first visit to the cottage, as well as the 
 izard, which had grown to be so tame and tract- 
 able in a couple of years. The business of Man- 
 nette's meeting with Caribert was to give him the 
 unpleasant intelligence, that Claude was at that 
 moment in the house with Aline, having come 
 round the mountain to deposit a portion of his 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 115 
 
 morning's spoils. Garibert had no sooner heard 
 this news than he quitted the grove ; desiring 
 Mannette to assure her sister he would be there 
 at night-fall, and hurried fast towards home, 
 cursing his ill luck, and the double duplicity 
 which forced him to fly the presence of one whom 
 he knew himself to have deceived. 
 
 In this mood he sped along his path, but not 
 undiscovered; Claude, during his visit at Moi- 
 nard's perceived a confused hesitation in Aline's 
 manner which he was strangely puzzled to ac- 
 count for ; nor did the appearance of Mannette, 
 who kept her secret better than her counte- 
 nance, tend to remove his astonishment. AYhen 
 he rose to take his leave, Aline, for the first time 
 in her life, pressed a continuance of his visit; 
 but the invitation sounded so oddly and so 
 awkwardly, that he found it the most embar- 
 rassing point of all, and after a few minutes' 
 hesitation he quitted the house. He soon 
 reached the pine-grove, passed it, and as it 
 ceased to impede his view of the naked hill, 
 the first object which caught his eye was Gari- 
 bert, moving rapidly on, not in the direction of 
 
11G CARIBERT, 
 
 Claude's cottage, but more to the right towards 
 his own. 
 
 This one glance was enough. It was like 
 the movement of some mental spring that opened 
 at once before the brain the whole pageant 
 which had been so long concealed from view; a 
 pageant of past scenes and hideous transforma- 
 tions — fond hopes, now withered — fair pros- 
 pects, desolate — a trusted friend, deceitful! 
 All this, and much more of pain and bitterness, 
 seemed at once to burst on Cdaude. He turned 
 aside into the pine-grove, clasped his hands, and 
 leaned his back against a tree, looking after 
 Caribert with a fixed and fascinated gaze. Thus 
 placed, what varieties of thoughts must he have 
 had ! What a revival of every scene or word 
 that had passed or been uttered for months ! 
 What a minute recollection of thousands of little 
 circumstances, and hints and looks, that had 
 been unheeded while they went by, but which 
 now spoke loo plainly! But passing over con- 
 jectures as to the emotions which rushed con- 
 fusedly upon him — those rapid sensations of 
 anguish, 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 1 7 
 
 Which ten times faster glide than the sun-beams, 
 Driving back shadows over low'ring hills— 
 
 we must suppose him to have reached his home, 
 ever till this hour the home of peace and hope. 
 
 Here he had a most difficult and painful cha- 
 racter to support. His presence had always 
 been the greatest source of comfort to his sis- 
 ters; he was so frank, so amiable, so communi- 
 cative. Whenever he came in, they were sure 
 to have a lively and pleasant detail of his day's 
 adventures, his visit to Aline, his meeting with 
 Caribert, or something or other connected with 
 these two objects of his affections and friend- 
 ship. Any thing like violent feeling, or above 
 all, like concealment, was so foreign to him, 
 that on the present occasion he found himself 
 beyond all things embarrassed. He was a novice 
 in deceit, but he did all he could to fill the part, 
 said he was ill and fatigued, and turned offmore 
 particular remarks upon his silence and agita- 
 tion, how and with what success he could. 
 
 Caribert had in the meantime arrived at his 
 father's door, and he never approached it in a 
 
'118 CARIBERT, 
 
 state of greater discontent and irritation. He 
 was quite prepared for any event which might 
 rouse the mind, or wound the feelings. The 
 scene which presented itself as he entered the 
 house, was perfectly calculated to effect the 
 double consummation. 
 
 Close to the door lay his father's leathern 
 doublet, and his woollen jacket, the latter stain- 
 ed with blood, partially torn, and bearing marks 
 of earth, as if the wearer had fallen after a 
 struggle. A short hunting-pike broken across 
 was beside it, and as Caribert turned his quick 
 glance in search of the owner of these relics of 
 a contest or an accident, he saw him sitting on 
 a chair by the window, one arm bared to the 
 shoulder, lacerated and bleeding, while with the 
 other the old man was caressing one of the 
 shaggy dogs, which lay helpless on a stool beside 
 him, piteously moaning, and looking up with 
 tearful eyes. The old woman was just begin- 
 ning to bind up her husband's wounds, with 
 bands of linen, steeped in some homely prepa- 
 ration, when Caribert rushed forward, shocked, 
 and with a startling abruptness. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. \ 1 'J 
 
 " My Godl what is all this?" exclaimed he, 
 taking his father's hand in his — " "What has 
 happened ? Who has done this ?" 
 
 " Who I" cried the father angrily, snatching 
 his hand away, and fixing his eyes on Garibert 
 with a reproachful expression, "Who! you may 
 well ask that — you did it." 
 
 "I! What do you mean?" said Caribert, — 
 " Tell me what has happened that I may re- 
 venge you, if" — 
 
 " Come, come, no bullying now — it's too 
 late. The coward that shrinks from his duty, 
 and leaves his old father to run all risks for his 
 support, has no business to prate of revenge." 
 
 Part of this retort passed lightly over Cari- 
 bert. He knew he was no coward, and it was 
 the first time the word had ever been insinuated 
 as applying to him. He only thought of his 
 father: and turning to his mother asked her 
 for explanation in a peremptory tone. 
 
 Before she could reply, the father cried fierce- 
 ly, "Come, come, my lad, no insolence to your 
 mother, or I'll fell you to the earth even with 
 this wounded arm ! Give over, Marie, give 
 over. Let alone that old withered branch — 
 
1 20 CARIBERT, 
 
 you have bound it well enough where ihe bark 
 was stripped off. 'Tis nothing, I don't feel it. 
 Let's see what we can do for our poor murdered 
 Franchelte here." 
 
 Upon this he turned to the dog beside him, 
 and Caribert seeing there was no serious injury 
 done to his father's arm, fixed his observation 
 also upon his favourite bitch that had followed 
 him too in many a hard chase, and had only 
 given up her attendance on his steps, since they 
 had been turned down towards the low grounds, 
 instead of leading her, as they were formerly 
 wont to do, to the most rugged haunts of the 
 bears, the objects of her inveterate hatred. 
 
 " Aye, you may well look at her, and never 
 hold up your head again," said the old man to 
 Caribert; but less harshly than he spoke be- 
 fore. " See how she wags her tail and wants 
 to lick your hand, poor thing!" 
 
 Caribert was about to raise her up, when the 
 old man roared out in his fiercest tone, " What 
 are you going to do? Don't touch her;" and 
 then, as if all at once melted by the misfortune 
 he was about to announce, he turned aside his 
 head, and sobbed out in smothered accents, 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 421 
 
 " Let her alone, Garibert — both her hind legs 
 are broken." 
 
 "Oh, heavens! is it possible?" exclaimed 
 Garibert, throwing himself on his knees beside 
 the poor animal, and leaning forwards his face, 
 which she licked with her hot and feverish 
 tongue, as if the rain of tears that flowed from 
 his eyes had brought relief and refreshment to 
 her pain. 
 
 " My poor dear Franchette!" continued he, 
 " Why was I not with you when this happened? 
 Oh I if you could but speak, you would not 
 leave me thus cruelly, without the miserable 
 satisfaction of knowing how all this came 
 about." 
 
 Here poor Franchette howled piteously, as if 
 condoling with the kind and sorrowful tone of 
 her young master. The tender-hearted mother 
 joined her loud sobs to the lamenting tone. 
 Old Lareole turned round towards them, and 
 seeing the evident sufferings of Garibert, he 
 gave him his hand and exclaimed, " Well, well, 
 my boy, hold up. This is too much; there's 
 no help now ; and crying like children does no 
 good to broken bones." He here wiped his 
 
 vol. i. c 
 
4 22 CARIBERT, 
 
 eyes with the cuff of his knitted flannel waist- 
 coat, and rose up. He gave a turn or two up 
 and down the room, hemmed and coughed, and 
 opened his shirt collar, as if he wanted air, 
 struck his chest two or three times with his open 
 hand, and spoke as follows : — 
 
 *' Stand up, Caribert; be a man ! I'll tell you 
 how it happened — though after all there's no 
 time for delaying now, for we must do some- 
 thing with the poor bitch. 'Tis useless to let 
 her linger in pain." 
 
 c< Why, for God's sake, Lareole," exclaimed 
 the wife, who was fomenting the wounded legs 
 of her dumb patient, " what do you mean by 
 
 that ? you wouldn't think surely of What 
 
 do you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, it's needless to talk, you see, Marie. 
 Go on with the warm cloths and the Guimauvc* 
 Perhaps the swelling may abate. We must do 
 the best for the poor animal, any how, just as we 
 should hope to be done by in a helpless case." 
 
 Caribert saw that the case of poor Franchetle 
 was indeed hopeless. Her legs were fractured 
 
 * Marsh-mallows. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 123 
 
 in several places, swelled dreadfully, and quite 
 out of the reach of any cure but death. He 
 stood up, and approaching his father, begged 
 him to tell him briefly what had occurred. 
 
 u Why, it was nothing but what you might 
 guess easily enough without my telling you," 
 said the old man. " You know, Caribert, you 
 refused to go with me this morning." 
 " Aye, I know it," muttered Caribert. 
 " Well, then, Simon Guilloteaux, who was 
 to have met me at Lake Escoubous, to attack 
 that cursed brown bear that has been prowling 
 about for the last week , failed me also. He did not 
 come — and I thought I'd have a poke at the rug- 
 ged scoundrel in his cave by myself; that is, with 
 PeroandmypoorFranchette here — and ycu see 
 what a pretty affair I made of it; — that's all." 
 
 44 Why, good God! you did not attack the 
 monster by yourself?" 
 
 44 Yes, yes, but I did; and hadn't that pike 
 smashed against the rock with the first stab I 
 made at old Bruin, I should have brought him 
 here on my back, to show you what you may 
 expect to do at sixty-three, if you change your 
 present lazy courses." 
 
 g2 
 
A 24 CARIBERT, 
 
 '* Was it he that wounded you?" 
 
 "To he sure it was. He threw out his 
 damned ugly paw, and would have had me clean 
 into the cave, I do helieve, if Franchette had 
 not fastened on him ; and when he loosed his 
 gripe of me to hreak her poor legs, he must have 
 killed her on the spot (and it would have heen 
 well for her, after all) , if Pero had not flown at 
 him hehind. He then retreated into his den, 
 and you may judge I had enough to do to carry 
 off the wounded hitch and get clear home ; — but 
 to-morrow!" 
 
 "Aye, father, to-morrow!" cried Caribert, 
 catching the fierce tone and look of the old 
 man ; " I swear with you that poor Franchette 
 shall have her revenge." 
 
 " Give me your hand again, my fine lad. 
 Aye, this is something like. This is being your- 
 self. This is better — one minute like this — a 
 thousand times better than a whole month's 
 dancing and smirking after that hop-o'-my- 
 thumb Jeanneton: — is it not? now, tell me the 
 truth." 
 
 " Jeanneton !" echoed Caribert, in a half 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 125 
 
 whisper, a contemptuous smile on his lip, and 
 with a shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " Right, my boy," exclaimed the delighted 
 father, slapping him on the back; " I knew 
 you'd get over that stumbling-block when the 
 spur stuck in the right place. Yes, I always 
 said so to your mother — didn't I, Marie? Why, 
 the loss of a dog, and a scratch on my arm, is 
 poor payment for the pleasure this gives me. 
 Aye, aye, Caribert, we'll punish that ruffian 
 to-morrow, and hunt many a long day together 
 yet. Time enough for courting and fooling 
 twenty years hence. No way that to spend the 
 prime of life. I was close to forty when I first 
 saw your mother, and the whole business was 
 begun and ended in a fortnight. — Wasn't it, 
 Marie?" 
 
 The reply was stifled by the loud and melan- 
 choly moanings of the wounded animal ; when 
 the old man exclaimed, " By heavens, I can 
 stand this no longer ! my poor bitch, you shall 
 not ask for relief in vain. Lift her up gently, 
 Caribert, and take her oiit to the garden. Wrap 
 something round her. There, take that old 
 
126 CARIBERT, 
 
 jacket, that will do. Many a line fellow lies in 
 these hills in a shabbier winding-sheet." 
 . Caribert proceeded to perform these sad du- 
 ties, and his father took down his short-bar- 
 relled gun that hung on two pegs over the fire- 
 place. This was the time for the kind nature of 
 the wife to take a prominent part. She saw the 
 purpose of these preparations, and interposed 
 with sobs, and sighs, and entreaties, that it might 
 at least be deferred. But all this was ineffec- 
 tual. Both father and son saw the necessity of 
 the thing ; and they quickly overpowered her 
 resistance, by pointing out the cruelty of pro- 
 tracting a suffering for which there was but one 
 cure. The poor woman submitted at last. She 
 cried like a child as she saw Caribert fold the 
 old flannel jacket round the animal, lift her up 
 in his arms, and go out of the cottage. She 
 next observed the father, who, having put an 
 additional bullet into his gun, and examined 
 the flint and the priming, soon followed ; and 
 at this near approach of the tragedy, she sat 
 down upon the side of the bed, laid her head 
 on the bolster, and put bolh her hands to her 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 27 
 
 ears, that she might not hear the sound of the 
 death-shot. 
 
 The mournful executioners passed quickly 
 into the little garden, and Caribert, walking up 
 to the farthest end, placed his burthen on the 
 bank, which in the summer was thickly studded 
 with the small wild strawberry of the Upper 
 Pyrenees, but was now covered with snow. 
 While Franchette was in his arms she uttered 
 no moan, and looked almost contented; and 
 Caribert thought, for an instant, that she could 
 even sigh out her sufferings without pain on 
 such a pillow. But, when he put her down, 
 she gave one, and but one, heart-piercing yell. 
 Caribert's eyes swam anew with tears, and he 
 saw nothing more. The old man approached — 
 '* now then, Caribert," said he, «' stand aside . 
 — Let me get close to her/' 
 
 Caribert stepped away a pace or two, and 
 put his hand before his eyes. He expected 
 every instant to hear the fatal report, and felt 
 his eye-lids, his teeth, and his hands close more 
 firmly together, as the delay of each second 
 seemed to compress and wind up all his nerves. 
 He at length opened his eyes, and looked under 
 
128 CARIBERT, 
 
 his hand; and instead of seeing his father as he 
 expected, with the muzzle close to the heart of 
 the bitch, and his finger on, the trigger, he per- 
 ceived him, with his hack turned towards her, 
 the gun loosely hanging in one hand, and the 
 other holding his handkerchief to his face. 
 
 " Why, father, father," exclaimed Garibert, 
 "For Heaven's sake, what's this? Won't you 
 put the poor thing out of pain?" 
 
 *' I'll tell you what, Garibert — it's more than 
 I'm man for; I cannot do it." was his reply. 
 
 " Give me the gun, then ; this is child's play, 
 indeed !" said Caribert. But on taking it from 
 his father, and advancing close to the bank, he 
 saw poor Franchette silently and stiffly lying 
 where he had placed her, her eyes turned up 
 and her mouth open, her tongue hanging out, 
 and a little stream of black blood trickling over 
 it upon the snow. 
 
 " Why, father," cried he, starting back, 
 " she's dead ! stone dead, by Heavens !" 
 
 " Dead !" said the father; "what do you 
 mean?'' and then stepping towards her, and 
 seeing her to be really, unequivocally dead, he 
 added, " She is, by the Virgin ! When the 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 29 
 
 monster caught her in his gripe, he must have 
 not only broken her legs, but her faithful heart 
 as welll" 
 
 Certain that some internal hurt had saved 
 them the painful task they had contemplated, 
 they rejoiced at the weakness which had caused 
 their hesitation. Garibert felt that his resent- 
 ment was doubly excited against the bear, by 
 the fact of his having caused her actual death ,* 
 and the old man was happy that his poor wife 
 would be spared the reflection of her being sa- 
 crificed by his hand. "While Garibert dug a 
 hole, in which to lay the body, his father went 
 in to summon his Marie to attend the burial 
 ceremony. He found her lying as he left her ; 
 and when she saw him enter, she rose and ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " Why, Lareole, is it all over? is the poor 
 thing murdered — dead I mean? I heard no 
 shot." 
 
 «' Because none was fired. She is dead, Ma- 
 rie, and not murdered, thank God 1 Gome out 
 and see her laid in her cold grave !*' 
 
 The old couple went out ; and while Cari- 
 
\ 30 CARIBERT, 
 
 bert placed the stiff body in the pit he had 
 dug, Lareole flung in several shovel-fulls of 
 snow, exclaiming — "Well, my poor faithful 
 bitch, there's a bright pure shroud for you at 
 any rate. When the snow melts, and the wild 
 strawberries bloom over your grave, I may 
 not be above ground myself, perhaps ! But no 
 matter, your mistress here and Caribert will 
 heave a sigh for you, and — Come, come Ca- 
 ribert; what are you wiping your eyes for? 
 Cover in the earth, and let's go and have some 
 dinner. There now, that's very well, nothing 
 can be better. Come along." 
 
 They all went in accordingly ; but not a 
 spoonful of the venison soup, nor a bit of the 
 bouilli, was tasted that day. 
 
 An hour or two after the dinner-time was 
 occupied in preparation for the next morning's 
 work. The old man had to make ready a new 
 handle for his pike, and Caribert had to look 
 over and arrange all his hunting accoutrements. 
 As he laid them one by one on his bed, the 
 touch of every separate article, and the obser- 
 vation of their marks of former service, gave 
 
THE BEiR HUNTER. 131 
 
 fresh impulse to his determination., sorrow for 
 his buried favourite falling upon each new in- 
 citement like oil on wreaths of lire. 
 
 When all was ready, and the shades of even 
 ing sweeping fast over the western mountains, 
 he begged of his father to lie down and repose 
 till dawn. The old man did so willingly, for he 
 was grieved and fatigued; and, though he said 
 little about it, it was evident to his watchful 
 helpmate that he suffered considerable pain 
 from his inflamed and excoriated arm. While 
 she applied fomentations to it,' of the simple 
 remedy which, although it had been applied 
 ineffectually to poor Franchelle, was really most 
 efficacious, Garibert took his cap and walk- 
 lag- stick, and said he would just step down to 
 Claude's, to tell them not to expect him in the 
 morning, according to his promise. 
 
 Old Lareole was lying on his back in bed, 
 the wounded arm outside, receiving the cares 
 of his wife, his eyes closed, half from sleep and 
 as much from pain, when he heard Caribert 
 announce his departure. He started up sud- 
 denly, and leaning with his arms on the side of 
 the bed, he looked sternly at him, and ex- 
 
\ 32 CARIBERT, 
 
 claimed, u Take care, Garibert ; something tells 
 me you are going to abandon me to-morrow." 
 
 " For God's love, father/' replied the son, 
 M how can you say so ? I swear to you that no- 
 thing on earth shall keep me from you. I will 
 be back by midnight at latest, as sure as the 
 stars are in heaven." 
 
 His energy satisfied the old man, who answer- 
 ed, " Remember the oath, my boy, and I am 
 content. I will expect you. But by all that 
 you have sworn to, and by heaven itself into 
 the bargain, if you are not here at peep of day, 
 I will go myself, disabled as I am, and kill that 
 bear, or die in the attempt ! Go now to your 
 sweetheart, and remember your oath," added 
 he, sinking back, and shutting his eyes again. 
 
 " Never fear, father, never fear," said Gari- 
 bert, closing the door after him. 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 1 33 
 
 CHAPTER VII; 
 
 While all this was passing, Claude had been 
 holding a long parley with his first impressions 
 on the subject, of Caribert's treachery. The 
 natural tenor of his feelings was benevolent and 
 generous; and after some hours of miserable 
 certainty, he began to enjoy the imperfect satis- 
 faction of doubt. He thought he might have 
 been too hasty; that even if Caribert had been 
 clandestinely visiting Aline, it might have been 
 on some secret affair, of which he should know 
 the whole in good time; something perhaps 
 concerning her father, "or even," thought he, 
 "some project connected with my happiness! 
 Good God ! if such should turn out to be the 
 case!" 
 
1 34 CARIBERT, 
 
 Just as he had inwardly uttered this exclama- 
 tion, the door opened, and Caribert entered the 
 cottage. The blood flew into Claude's cheeks, 
 but he mechanically stretched out his hand to his 
 visitor, who took it without observing his coun- 
 tenance, in the dusk of the chamber. 
 
 "Ah! you are most welcome this evening, 
 Caribert; we never wanted you more," said 
 Jeanneton; "here's poor Claude quite gloomy 
 and sad; we don't know what to make of him." 
 
 " So much the worse," replied Caribert, 
 "for I am in no mood to make him merry, I 
 assure you." 
 
 "Why, has any thing happened to you?" 
 asked Claude. 
 
 "Not exactly to mc — but there's my father 
 wounded by a bear, and Franchette killed; 
 that's something, isn't it ?" 
 
 Exclamations of surprise and sorrow burst 
 from the listening group, and the three sisters 
 offered with one voice to go off immediately to 
 assist his mother in her nursing. 
 
 "When did this happen?" asked one of the 
 sisters. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 35 
 
 "When I was making a fool of myself here 
 this morning." 
 
 " Making a fool of yourself, Caribert?" said 
 Jeanneton, her eyes filling with tears. 
 
 "It's well," muttered Claude, " if you have 
 not been making fools of other people." 
 
 " I wish we had known of this misfortune 
 before," exclaimed the eldest sister; you may 
 be sure, Caribert, we shouldn't have kept you 
 here when you ought to have been with your 
 poor father." 
 
 ** There's no use in your reproaching me," 
 replied he in a sulky tone; "I know my own 
 business and my own duty." 
 
 Jeanneton saw his temper, and not for the 
 first lime, for he had been often subject to fits 
 of peevishness, in the midst of her kindness 
 and his own abstraction. She said in a soothing 
 way, 
 
 "My dear Caribert, no one means to re- 
 proach you; don't think that; but tell me, 
 where have you been all day, ever since you 
 left us?" 
 
 "Where have I been? Why, at home, to 
 be sure." 
 
1 36 CARIBERT, 
 
 "What the whole day?" demanded Claude, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Didn't I say so ?" retorted Caribert roughly. 
 " What do you all mean by questioning me in 
 this manner ?" 
 
 Claude walked up and down the room ; Jean- 
 neton laid her hand on Garibert's, but he drew 
 his away abruptly ; and the eldest sister, who 
 was of a hot temper, exclaimed, " I really don't 
 see, Caribert, why you should be so cross 
 with us all, your best friends. I think you 
 might have walked about the hills a little, to 
 cool your anger, instead of coming here to vent 
 it on us." 
 
 " I thank you, Mademoiselle Catrine," re- 
 plied he, rising; " but I did'nt think it amiss to 
 give you a call, and say ' good evening,' be- 
 fore I went out to-morrow morning to kill the 
 bear that wounded my father, or be killed 
 myself — for one of the two shall happen, as I 
 am a man !" 
 
 This was touching a chord that harmonized 
 with the best feelings of the listeners, for they 
 all, two of them more particularly, were as 
 much alive to the danger of Caribert as their 
 
THE UEAH HUNTER.; 1 37 
 
 own. Claude stopt short, — and Jeanneton, 
 unable to suppress her emotions any longer, 
 started from her seat, caught hold of Garibert's 
 hand as he was darting from the door, and burst 
 into tears. 
 
 "Stay, stay, for Heaven's sake, Caribert!" 
 sobbed she. "Is this the way you would quit 
 us ? It this the farewell you make me? I never 
 thought you had so much cruelty in you." 
 
 " Let me go now, Jeanneton; there's a good 
 girl," said he, shaking her off; " such fooling as 
 this torments me." 
 
 With these words he walked away, and the 
 whole party, stupified more or less at the scene, 
 were for a moment silent. Jeanneton stood 
 leaning against the door, looking after him 
 through her tears; until Claude, after a mi- 
 nute's pause, exclaimed, "There must be some- 
 thing wrong with him — I see that clearly. 
 Perhaps I have been injuring him, after all, by 
 my suspicions!" 
 
 " Suspicions !" echoed the sisters, but in an 
 inquiring tone. * 
 
 "Never mind," said Claude; "this is no 
 time to explain; I'll go after him, and have the 
 
138 CARIBERT, 
 
 whole cleared up one way or another. Let me 
 pass, Jeanneton. There, kiss me — all may be 
 well yet. I shall be back soon, girls, depend 
 on it." 
 
 As he stepped out, Caribert's figure was 
 scarcely perceptible. It was nearly dark, and 
 Claude was just going to halloo to him to stop, 
 until he reflected that, in his angry mood, that 
 might not please him; and in order to come up 
 with him, he cut up the mountain to intersect 
 his homeward path. He kept his eye all the 
 while on his object ,* and with a pang of mingled 
 conviction, astonishment and rage, he saw him 
 suddenly turn out of his road, and strike off 
 round the projecting rock, formerly mentioned, 
 in a direct line for the pine grove. The first 
 impulse would have led Claude to overtake, and 
 all at once pour out his upbraidings on him. 
 But he instantaneously determined to follow him 
 at a cautious distance, and wait until positive 
 evidence was before him, to auihorize and add 
 weight to the flood of reproaches, which were 
 all ready to overwhelm the culprit. He accord- 
 ingly followed at a slow pace, with a throbbing 
 but determined heart, prepared for whatever 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER . 1 39 
 
 result might come; and even when he lost sight 
 of Caribert in the increasing darkness, he was 
 as sure of his track, as if the instinct of the 
 bloodhound had been joined to the resentment 
 of the man. 
 
 Aline was entering the place of rendezvous on 
 one side, when Caribert came in at the other. 
 She answered the loud whisper which asked if 
 she was there, by the sweetest of all sounds to a 
 lover's ear — the quickened step rustling myste- 
 riously through the brambles of a sombre grove, 
 the short-breathed sigh of welcome and impa- 
 tience, and next, the half-uttered expressions of 
 happiness, when she leaned her head forward 
 to meet his ardent embrace. Caribert seemed 
 to. forget for a moment all the inquietudes and 
 angry feelings of the day, and he told his story of 
 what had passed in a clear and collected manner. 
 AYhen he announced his intention of accompa- 
 nying his father on his expedition of vengeance 
 the following morning, the womanish feelings 
 of Aline began to rise up in her bosom. She 
 did not attempt to dissuade him from his enter- 
 prise ; but just at the moment that Claude 
 reached the spot (every nerve trembling as he 
 
440 CARIBERT, 
 
 crept cautiously od), and listened to the mur- 
 muring of the voices, he heard the following dia- 
 logue : — 
 
 Aline. — No, I should rather urge you to go 
 than wish you to shrink back. — But surely you 
 ought to take some assistance. 
 
 Caribert. — No, no, the business shall be mine, 
 and mine only. I will prove that I have lost 
 none of my former power. You don't doubt 
 my resolution? 
 
 Aline.— God forbid ! no dearest Caribert; 
 but I know you are ill lo-night. Your forehead 
 and your hands are burning hot; and could I 
 but see your face, I am sure it must bear the 
 marks of fever. 
 
 Caribert. — Even so, my girl, it is so much 
 the better — my arm will be the stronger. 
 
 Aline. — I hope it will; but still a companion 
 or two would ensure your object, and remove my 
 fears. 
 
 Caribert. — Whom would you have me ask ? 
 you would not wish me to humble myself to 
 Guilloteaux and the others who have so often 
 reproached my idleness of late ? 
 
 Aline, — No indeed I would not; but there 
 
THE liEAR HUfrTER. 441 
 
 is one who has never reproached you — poor 
 Claude. 
 
 Caribert. — Yes, yes, he does at all times, 
 absent or present. The sight of him or the 
 thought of him is quite enough — I am beginning 
 to hate him, in spite of myself. 
 
 Aline. — You ought rather to hate me for 
 turning your heart from £0 true a friend ! 
 
 Caribert. — Hate you, Aline ! Oh, God! if I 
 could but tell you how I love you 1 
 
 Here the sounds of a repetition of embraces 
 came to the ears of Claude, like the hissing of 
 so many serpents. — He crept still closer to the 
 speakers, and the dialogue went on. 
 
 Caribert. — You have named the last man in 
 the world from whom I could deign to ask aid 
 of any kind. Besides I am not pleased at his 
 coming so much here. You ought not to en- 
 courage him, Aline. 
 
 Aline. — Do you think me capable of such 
 baseness ? Do you suppose I could pretend to 
 him what I don't feel ? 
 
 This was a blow as severe as it was unintend 
 ed to the feelings of Caribert, for Aline had 
 never dreamt of his pretended attachment to 
 
142 CARIBERT, 
 
 Jeanneton. He had studiously avoided the 
 mention of his deception, which he was quite sure 
 she would not have permitted, even though their 
 intercourse were to he sacrificed to its disconti- 
 nuance. He was therefore sorely hurt hy her pre- 
 sent remark; and his irritation, as is common in 
 such cases, disposed him to turn upon the ob- 
 jects least hlameable and most injured. He 
 replied, " I think you ought at once to tell him 
 to give up his attentions, and to keep away 
 entirely from you/' 
 
 Aline. — Heavens ! how could I do that ? 
 What would his sisters think of me? 
 
 Caribert. — What need you care for his sis- 
 ters? they are as odious to me as he is. 
 
 Aline. — My dear Caribert — you don't know 
 what you are saying. What's the matter with 
 you? 
 
 Caribert. — I tell you but the truth, Aline — 
 and in fact this whole farce must have an end. 
 Why, do you know, since I must confess it, that 
 foolish girl, Jeanneton, appears to have taken a 
 fancy to me, and teazes me to death by her at- 
 tentions; aud I think that the whole set, brother 
 and sisters, have a design upon me. 
 
THE BEAR IIUNTER. 143 
 
 M Villain !" exclaimed Claude, at these 
 words, unable longer to contain himself, al- 
 most choked with rage, and bursting through 
 the tangled briars — " Villain, come forward, 
 that I may tear your false heart from your 
 bosom!" 
 
 Aline, terrified at the recognition of his voice, 
 in a tone so new and so shocking, uttered a 
 scream, and threw herself close upon Garibert's 
 breast. He was thunderstruck. He could not 
 reply, but clasping her firmly to him with his 
 left arm, he struck fiercely with the other in the 
 direction of the voice. His stick met only the 
 passive resistance of the over-hanging branches. 
 
 " Where are you, liar! odious, treacherous 
 liar?" vociferated Claude : " are you flying from 
 me? Stand, coward, stand!" 
 
 Caribert rushed towards the voice, dragging 
 Aline with him, and dealing forward in the 
 darkness his harmless blows. 
 
 " Oh, Claude ! Oh, Caribert!" cried Aline, 
 " stop in mercy! What would you do?" and 
 here throwing herself between the enraged but 
 invisible rivals, she put forward one hand. It 
 met with Claude's outstretched arm, which she 
 
4 44 CARIBERt, 
 
 grasped firmly; adding, in accents faint from 
 her fright, " Claude, dear Claude, forbear! if 
 my father hears this, I am undone!" 
 
 " What, Aline! do you supplicate the pitiful 
 spy?" asked Caribert bitterly. " Do you call the 
 skulking wretch dear Claude? Why cannot my 
 arm reach the injurious dog !" 
 
 Claude was arrested on the spot ; his whole 
 tide of vengeful feelings for an instant stopped. 
 The touch of Aline's fingers acted like magic on 
 him. He caught her arm, and while he trem- 
 bled in every joint, he pressed the hostage hand 
 repeatedly to his lips. She left it unhesitatingly 
 in his. His embrace was like the kiss of peace; 
 yet she shuddered when she felt Garibert's heart 
 throbbing against hers. " For the sake of 
 Heaven, Claude," cried she, ei I conjure you, 
 leave this fatal spot. This is a moment of de- 
 struction to us all. We know not what we are 
 doing or saying." 
 
 " You have saved him," replied Claude — 
 44 I leave him in his guilt." 
 
 The outrageous Caribert here burst from her 
 hold, but she again folded her arms round him, 
 and prevented his advance. Claude stepped 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. i£S 
 
 back, and as he retreated, said in a suffocating 
 voice, " I go, Aline: I leave you and him for 
 ever. Thank God, the darkness and your in- 
 fluence have spared him from my passionate re- 
 venge. Let him live in misery and disgrace — 
 but for the sake of your own happiness, of your 
 own character, shun him as you would the 
 plague. I acquit you of all share in his infamy. 
 I have heard enough from both your lips to let 
 me know the truth. If the serpent has won 
 your heart, I cannot blame you; but expect 
 nothing from the wretch who could betray his 
 bosom friend, and basely deceive aad calum- 
 niate my innocent sister. — Adieu, Aline; you 
 shall never see me more ! Bid me farewell; it 
 is all I ask." 
 
 " Farewell, farewell," cried Aline, almost 
 unconsciously. " God bless you," replied he; 
 " farewell, farewell for ever !" 
 
 She heard the rustling of the branches as he 
 rapidly forced his way through the grove, and 
 when it was no longer audible, she leaned her 
 head on Caribert's shoulder, and wept aloud. 
 He, during the energetic denunciation of Claude, 
 had been forcibly affected by the whole tenor of 
 
 vol. i. n 
 
146 CAMBERT, 
 
 what was said. He felt the justice of every word 
 — he could not interrupt his accuser — and there 
 was something almost solemn in the heart- 
 broken accents coming thus upon him, through 
 the profound darkness of night, so abruptly and 
 so resistless. He felt relieved by the departure 
 of his injured friend — he was beginning to 
 breathe more freely, as he heard his retiring 
 steps — but every frenzied emotion burst out 
 again when Aline gave way to her tears, which 
 he attributed at the instant to her sorrow for the 
 absence of his now detested rival. 
 
 ** "What," cried he, " do you weep for him ? 
 Is it thus you judge between us ? Is this your 
 love for me ?" 
 
 " For God's sake spare me any further wretch- 
 edness," sobbed she. " Would you have me 
 savage enough to be insensible to such a scene 
 as this ? Would you wish for a proof of my love 
 that would show me to be unworthy of yours?" 
 
 " Forgive me, my own Aline. I am afraid 
 only that I must appear criminal in your eyes, 
 — but recollect how I have adored you. — All ties 
 of friendship, I would almost say, of honour, 
 were weak beside my passion I Tell me you 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 147 
 
 don't blame, and that you love me as much as 
 ever." 
 
 Sophistry is a most eloquent weapon, when 
 the speaker and the hearer are in sympathy; 
 and this being the case in the present instance, 
 Aline was totally overcome. She returned Ca- 
 ribert's embrace again and again. She made 
 him swear that he would not seek a meeting 
 with Claude, to which his oath to his father was 
 also an impediment; and after a thousand entrea- 
 ties on her part, and assurances on his, rela- 
 tive to his safety on the morrow, Aline parted 
 from him at the edge of the grove ; and he, 
 when she was safely in the house., retraced his 
 steps through its dark paths, and then took his 
 way towards home. 
 
 Alone on his dreary route, amidst the dark- 
 ness of night, and the desolateness of nature, 
 his mind was quickly up in all the tumult of 
 conflicting passion. He felt degraded before 
 himself; his pride was bent down by the weight 
 of his own consciousness, rather than the re- 
 proaches of him he had so injured. Aline had 
 heard the damning accusation, though she could 
 not witness thecorrespondingblushon his cheek. 
 
 h2 
 
148 
 
 She sympathized with his accuser — she wept for 
 him. What might she not feel when alone, and 
 left to the strong discrimination of her clear- 
 sighted understanding! This thought brought 
 with it all the subsidiary pangs of his fierce but 
 humbled spirit. Then again came the reflection 
 of his unworthy conduct to Jeanneton. His 
 deceit before her face seemed nothing : he had 
 arguments at hand to justify that; but the mean- 
 ness of his slander when she was away ! That 
 was the thought which let him down to the level 
 of disgrace. But there was still one feeling 
 worse than all the rest. Twice during the day 
 he had been branded with the name of coward ! 
 Twice! and by the two persons in the world 
 who knew his character best. Time was when 
 not his father or his friend would have dared to 
 breathe a similar thought. What then could 
 prompt it now ? Gould his nature have been 
 changed, and was it true ? He paused as he asked 
 himself these questions ; and in the phrenzy of 
 his agitation he found himself at the turn of the 
 path leading to Claude's cottage. He had taken 
 that path unconsciously, and it seemed to him 
 as if the demon of revenge had been guiding his 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 149 
 
 steps. He started back in horror at the thought 
 which rushed upon him. It was the strong de- 
 sire of vengeance. He saw Claude pictured to 
 his imagination in all the dignity of triumphant 
 virtue, and he leaped forward as it were to trample 
 him under his feet. He had no sooner con- 
 ceived the thought, than he shrunk wildly from 
 its touch, and putting his hands to his forehead, 
 he found the cold sweat pouring down from it, 
 while his heart felt all on fire. He turned from 
 the path, recovered his home-ward way, and 
 soon arrived at the cottage. 
 
 The door was ajar. He entered softly, and 
 perceived, by the light of the little lamp which 
 glimmered in a corner, that his father was asleep, 
 and that his mother had also lain down on the 
 bed, tired, no doubt, by her assiduous attention 
 to his ailment. The night was piercingly cold, 
 and Garibert shivered in every joint. He softly 
 stirred up the wood-ashes, and raked together 
 the expiring faggots. He sat down by this in- 
 efficient and comfortless fire, and patted the 
 head of Pero, the only dog now left them, who 
 awoke, and acknowledged the friendly touch 
 
150 CARIBERT, 
 
 by a lazy movement of his tail. Caribert leaned 
 his head upon the table, and sat thus for a con- 
 siderable time, and must have suffered all the 
 violent symptoms of ague and fever, for the old 
 man, who had been awakened, and lay listen- 
 ing for some minutes, at length started up, 
 and called out, " Why, Marie ! Caribert ! what 
 shaking is that ? Who is rattling the table there ? 
 The dawn is breaking. Marie, I say ! Cari- 
 bert!" 
 
 His wife started up, as did the old man ; but 
 Caribert answered not. They both approach- 
 ed, and while she lighted a candle, the father 
 aroused him from his heavy but fevered slum- 
 ber. To the ejaculation of " What ho ! Cari- 
 bert, what are you shaking at? do you see a 
 ghost in your sleep ?" he replied by a bound 
 from his seat, a vacant stare, and an exclama- 
 tion of "What ghost? Whose? He is not dead 
 yet, is he ?" 
 
 As he spoke these words, he gazed wildly 
 round him, and passed his hand hurriedly be- 
 fore his eyes, as if to rid himself of some horrid 
 fancv . 
 
THE BE.YR HUNTER. 15! 
 
 " No, not yet," answered the father; M but 
 by the blessing of Heaven, in two hours hence 
 he shall welter in his heart's blood !" 
 
 The expression of countenance with which 
 Caribert answered this speech made the old 
 woman shudder. The father thought only of 
 the bear; the wandering mind of the son had 
 fixed itself on a different object. But he re- 
 covered himself in a moment ; and seeing the 
 bustle of preparation that his father began to 
 make, he prepared, in frenzied haste, to ac- 
 coutre himself for the chase. 
 
 His arrangements went on silently, and were 
 completed before those of his father, who stop- 
 ped every moment to utter expressions of anti- 
 cipated vengeance on his enemy, and to scruti- 
 nize with an unnecessary minuteness every atom 
 of his weapons, to satisfy himself that nothing 
 might be wanting for the approaching struggle. 
 When Caribert was completely cased in his 
 leathern doublet and gaiters, his belt fastened 
 on, his knife placed in it, his strong gloves on 
 his hands, and his pike firmly clenched within 
 them, he appeared to both father and mother 
 to look once more like himself; to wear the 
 
1 52 CARIBERT, 
 
 semblance of that united activity and strength 
 which had always distinguished him. The old 
 man contemplated him proudly, and saw no- 
 thing but the fire of valour in his rolling eyes 
 and flushed complexion : but the mother, more 
 experienced, and more alive to such symptoms, 
 trembled to think that they arose from fever and 
 a wayward mind. 
 
 Every thing being completed in the way of 
 equipment, the hunters set out, followed by 
 their dog. But the poor animal seemed to obey 
 unwillingly the familiar call of his old master. 
 He looked about, and appeared to inquire of 
 those around him for the former companion 
 of all his hunting feats. He was evidently dis- 
 pirited, and lingered in the track of Caribert, 
 instead of boldly springing forwards, and lead- 
 ing the party, as had ever been his wont until 
 this morning. The anxious wife and mother 
 embraced both father and son. "' For Heaven's 
 sake, Lareole," said she, " be as steady as brave 
 to-day ! Remember your lame arm in the at- 
 tack ; and do not expose yourself if it feels 
 crippled." 
 
 " Never fear, Dame, never fear ! I am fit 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 153 
 
 for any enterprise this morning. With Garibert 
 beside me once more, dressed in the only suit 
 which is becoming to him in my eyes, I feel as 
 strong as a dozen." 
 
 " God grant that all be right with him !" re- 
 plied she, as she gave Garibert a parting kiss on 
 either cheek. " How do you feel, my child? 
 you were burning hot a moment ago, and you 
 are now shivering again." 
 
 "0, mother, it is only from anxiety to at- 
 tack old Bruin. — I am as well as ever, believe 
 me," said he, with an assumed gaiety. — " Now 
 then, father, are you ready?" 
 
 " And willing, my boy," said the old man, 
 briskly; and, waving their hands in answer to 
 the salute of their anxious companion, they 
 stepped forward in the direction of the Pic. 
 
 The fatal results of this eventful expedition 
 must be taken, in some measure, upon evidence 
 not quite positive. They have been gathered 
 from the scarce coherent disclosures of insa- 
 nity — the broken and shuddering confessions 
 of a maniac's lucid hours — the knowledge of 
 the actors' characters — and the probabilities of 
 the fact. Such is the foundation on which the 
 
1 54 CARIBERT, 
 
 universal opinion is built as to the accuracy of 
 what follows. 
 
 Soon after Caribert and his father had quitted 
 their home, the morning, which had only just 
 broke, began to be more than commonly over- 
 cast. A snow shower, mixed with rain, assailed 
 them ere they reached the Pic du Midi; and 
 the piercing cold of the air, added to the sleet 
 beating cuttingly into his face, brought on, with 
 Caribert, repeated attacks of violent and alter- 
 nate fever and shivering. When they arrived 
 at the den of the bear, which was formed of a 
 cavity in the western side of the mountain, close 
 to that terrific precipice which I have already 
 endeavoured to describe, they were both be- 
 numbed, and scarcely capable of exerlion; but 
 the old man, rousing up all his wrath and cou- 
 rage for the onset, approached the cave, and 
 with loud shouts of defiance, endeavoured to 
 stir up the savage animal's rage. The summons 
 was no sooner heard than answered. A horrible 
 growl sent out from the recess, was followed by 
 the appearance of the bear, which rushed forth 
 as if in conscious recollection of yesterday's 
 triumph. At the appalling sound and sight, 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 155 
 
 Pero, the faithful and courageous dog, unsup- 
 ported by his former ally, and having his share 
 of brute remembrance too of the late ren- 
 contre, hung down his head, dropped his tail, 
 and fled yelping down the mountain. Old La- 
 reole grasped his pike firmly, and advanced. 
 The hideous monster reared itself up on its hind 
 legs, stretched out its fore paws, and as, with 
 its jaws yawning wide, its fearful tusks displayed, 
 and growling with horrid energy, it was in the 
 very act of springing forward, the veteran hunter 
 stepped close up, and aimed a thrust with no 
 flinching strength, right at his enemy's heart. 
 He was not far wide of that vital spot. His 
 pike pierced the left breast, and went out clearly 
 at the shoulder. Rendered frantic by the pain, 
 the bear bounded up, flung itself full upon ils 
 undaunted assailant, and fell upon him to the 
 earth. The old man, burying his head under 
 the body of his foe, received on the back and 
 shoulders of his doublet its unavailing efforts 
 to penetrate the thick folds of armour with 
 tusks and nails. He tugged at the pike to ex- 
 tricate it from the body, but his position was 
 such that he could not succeed, and every new 
 
4 56 
 
 effort only tended to give issue to the thick 
 stream of blood which flowed from the wound. 
 During this frightful struggle, the yells of the 
 bear were mixed with and smolhered by the 
 loud execrations of the old man. The latter, at 
 length, gave up the hope of recovering his pike, 
 but strove fairly next to get rid of his terrific 
 burden. He succeeded so far as to get one leg 
 clear; and, with his nervous grasp entwined 
 round the body of the brute, he was rising on 
 his knee, and called out, " Now, Caribert, 
 now ! To his heart — to his heart — the death 
 blow, now! strike, strike!" — But Caribert 
 struck not ! He stood gazing on the scene — 
 panic-struck — fixed to the spot with emotions 
 not fathomable to man, — a terrible but not 
 solitary instance of the perilous risks run by 
 mortal courage, as well as by human virtue. I 
 do not inquire into the mystery — but there he 
 stood, its horrible and shuddering illustration ! 
 The old man was now getting clear, but the 
 bear had his hold in turn. His huge paws 
 were fastened with a dreadful force round one 
 of his victim's thighs ; and recovering from his 
 sprawling posture, he began to draw him back- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 157 
 
 wards, evidently in the design of regaining his 
 den. The old man's courage rose with his 
 danger, for he alertly drew his knife from his 
 belt, opened the blade, and plunged it repeat- 
 edly into the body of the bear. The latter 
 leaped and bounded with agony; and Lareole, 
 recovering his feet once more, succeeded in 
 grasping the savage in his arms. But the trial 
 could not be prolonged. He was drooping 
 under the dreadful gripe. — Breathless and faint, 
 he could only utter some terrific curses against 
 the recreant who had abandoned him; and 
 while Caribert gazed, his brain on fire, his 
 hands outstretched, his tongue cleaving to his 
 mouth, but his limbs trembling, his heart sunk 
 and his feet rooted to the earth, he saw the 
 white locks of his aged father floating over the 
 neck of his destroyer; while the dying animal, 
 in his blindness, not knowing what he did, had 
 retreated to the very edge of the precipice, slip- 
 ping at every backward plunge in the slough 
 formed by the snow and his own heart's blood, 
 by which it was dissolved. The old man, seeing 
 his terrible fate, seemed to acquire for an in- 
 stant the gigantic energy of despair. Throwing 
 
458 
 
 one glance across the horrid space on the border 
 of which he stood, he screamed in a voice of 
 thunder, " Caribert! Caribert!" The terrible 
 expression conveyed in this hoarse scream, 
 struck on the mind of his son with an electrical 
 shock. Suddenly roused from his stupor, he 
 recovered for an instant all his recollection and 
 his courage. He uttered a cry of corresponding 
 fierceness, — swung his brandished pike — rush- 
 ed forwards with open arms to seize his father, 
 and snatch him from his destiny, — but it was 
 too late ! The monster touched on the extreme 
 edge — lost his footing — plunged instinctively 
 forward — took another backward step, — and 
 just as Caribert believed he had grasped his 
 father in his outstretched arms, both man and 
 bear were lost to his sight, and their groans 
 came mingling in the air, as they went crashing 
 down below. 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 159 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 What Caribert did, or said, or felt, we must 
 not inquire. Whether his reason took flight in 
 silent agony, or in screaming despair, can only 
 be a matter of conjecture, or, rather, of imagi- 
 nation. He saw the consummation of the sacri- 
 fice; and he often afterwards recounted the 
 scene, in fits of madness, and in passing mo- 
 ments of reason, and never deviated in his tale. 
 
 The person who first saw him after this dread- 
 ful hour was she who, in light and darkness, 
 reason or frenzy, was all and every thing to him. 
 It cannot be known how soon, but the same 
 morning, and probably immediately after the 
 completion of the tragedy, he hurried to the house 
 of Moinard. The last expiring moment of his 
 reason probably prompted him to fly to Aline; a 
 
160 CAIUBERT, 
 
 consciousness of his coming madness — a desire 
 of breathing out the last words of rationalthought 
 upon her bosom — an instinct — an inspiration — 
 Who may divine the impulse ? Be it what it 
 might, it led him to her. 
 
 Aline's anxiety had totally prevented her from 
 sleeping the preceding night, and she was up 
 with the dawn. She would have wished to go to 
 Claude's cottage, to have seen him and his sis- 
 ters, and freely and frankly to have communi- 
 cated and consulted upon their relative situa- 
 tions. But delicacy, with respect to him and 
 Jeanneton, immediately repressed this first sug- 
 gestion of her feelings, and she was obliged to 
 content herself with waiting till Mannette awoke, 
 when she dispatched her with a message to the 
 eldest sister, requesting her to come down to 
 her immediately. Her father was still in bed, 
 and her anxiety leading her far quicker than 
 Mannette's greatest possible speed, she walked 
 from the house an hour after her departure, 
 and proceeded towards the pine grove, in hopes 
 of meeting the little messenger, with her who 
 was the object of her mission. 
 
 The interview that she expected, the confes- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 161 
 
 sion she had to make, and all its intricacy of ex- 
 planations and excuses, were sufficiently calcu- 
 lated to create awkwardness and embarrassment 
 in a delicate mind. What were they in compa- 
 rison to the shock which was preparing to hurst 
 on her most sensitive heart ! 
 
 As she approached the grove, and within a 
 few paces of the entrance, her eyes cast down, 
 her arms folded, and her mind involved in deep 
 varieties of thought, she heard the rapid approach 
 of hurried footsteps, and looking up, she per- 
 ceived the appalling figure of Garibert — dressed 
 in all the rude and fierce habiliments of hunting 
 warfare; his pike brandished in his hand, as she 
 had first seen him before their fatal acquaint- 
 ance, — but with a countenance ten thousand 
 times more terrible. — He was now pale — his 
 looks haggard — his eyes as if bursting from iheir 
 sockets — every feature, every expression, giving 
 evidence of the ravages of disease, despair, and 
 madness. 
 
 In the first moment of her terror she turned 
 to fly, but his voice transfixed her to the spot. 
 
 " Stay, stay, my Aline 1" cried he; " stay, 
 my bride !" She stopped and looked at him in 
 
162 
 
 speechless misery, for the truth of his situation 
 darted across her brain. 
 
 U That's an unkind look of greeting, ' J conti- 
 nued he. " Is not this our marriage day? lam 
 breathless with running — You don't know me in 
 my wedding dress!" and he here laughed in 
 horrid confirmation of her dreadful doubts. 
 
 " O Father of mercy! save and pity him," 
 cried she, in agony. 
 
 He took one of her hands, and perceiving her 
 to tremble violently, he exclaimed, " What, are 
 you afraid of me? look at me ! I have not a drop 
 of his blood upon my hands — he threw himself 
 over — you don't suppose I murdered him ! — 
 But he is dead — dead — dashed to pieces ! save 
 me — ! save me from his dreadful curses ! " 
 
 He here seemed to feel a pang of horrid re- 
 membrance. He flung himself on his knees at 
 Mine's feet, and hid his face in the folds of her 
 dress. Shocked and terrified beyond all power 
 of recollection, she screamed for help, and as she 
 loudly called on her father, a new chord was 
 touched in the mind of the wretched maniac. 
 
 " Father! father!" exclaimed he, — u aye 
 call, call loudly; but he cannot answer! — O 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 163 
 
 God ! I have no father. I saw him fall into the 
 chasm. " 
 
 He here started on his feet, and holding her 
 firm with one hand, he threw away his pike and 
 leaned forward, with the other stretched open, 
 and looked as if gazing down the frightful pre- 
 cipice, and striving to grasp the fulling sufferer. 
 Moinard now approached rapidly from the house, 
 and Aline, turning once more to Garibert, added 
 in a supplicating but half-distracted tone — 
 
 " What is the dreadful meaning of your 
 words and looks? Tell me, I conjure you, Gari- 
 bert, by your affection for me; tell me what it is 
 that has driven you to this state?' 7 
 
 Moinard at this moment came up, and seeing 
 the terrified looks of Aline, and the ferocious 
 attitude of Garibert, believed that the latter was 
 attempting some violence upon her; he seized 
 the pike and darted forwards, exclaiming, " Vil- 
 lain! would you murder her?" '* He is mad, 
 father, he is mad !" she called out; " he knows 
 not what he does ! " 
 
 Garibert, not heeding her, replied to the ex- 
 clamation of Moinard, "Yes, murder, murder 
 
1 64 CARIBERT, 
 
 is what I want — but oh! not her, not her!" He 
 here took her hand and pressed it to his lips. 
 Moinard, almost petrified with surprise and af- 
 fright at the supposed danger of his child, stood 
 motionless, while the maniac continued, " Why 
 my own best Aline, you see your father has come 
 to give us his blessing — kneel to him with me !" 
 He forced her to the position. " Now swear to 
 be mine, and mine only in life and death — you 
 often promised it; swear!" 
 
 " God, O God !" uttered Aline. 
 
 " You do not swear," cried Caribert : " Moi- 
 nard, make her swear it. I know they are going 
 to drag me from her — they wait for the parri- 
 cide ! Swear, swear, Aline!" 
 
 " Say anything to pacify him," whispered 
 Moinard, who was supporting Aline on the other 
 side. " I do swear then," said she, " solemnly, 
 most solemnly swear, never to be another's while 
 you live ! In reason or in madness, I am yours. 
 So hear me, and so help me heaven !" 
 
 The tone of awful reality with which she pro- 
 nounced these words struck upon the father's 
 heart with a sound of shocking apprehension. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 65 
 
 He feared that the terror of the scene had af- 
 fected her reason too. He raised her up ; and Ca- 
 ribert loosening her hand, exultingly exclaimed, 
 " She is mine, she is mine. Now do your worst 
 against me. Seize me, kill me if you can !" 
 He then burst into another of those horrid laughs 
 so common to maniacs; and by a rapid transi- 
 tion to the cause of his estrangement he added 
 furiously — " Tis false, I did not hurl him over. 
 — Pero ran and I stood still, but the bear alone 
 dragged him down. I saw it — yet I stood still ! 
 Oh coward ! coward ! coward !" He here struck 
 his clenched fist against his forehead with terri- 
 ble violence; and as if all at once losing every 
 recollection but of the harrowing event, he turn- 
 ed his steps away, and fled howling up the moun- 
 tain. Moinard's heart seemed frozen with hor- 
 ror, and when at length he looked at his daugh- 
 ter's face, he found she had fainted in his arms. 
 I must leave my readers to imagine much of 
 the substance of what followed this scene : the 
 daughter's confession of her secret intercourse 
 and strong attachment, the father's attempted 
 reproaches and involuntary forgiveness — the 
 
466 CARIBERT, 
 
 measures taken on all hands for the discovery of 
 the manner and cause of old Lareole's dreadful 
 death, and the steps pursued for the security 
 and recovery of his unfortunate son. 
 
 The wretchedness of Aline was considerably 
 heightened by the intelligence brought to her by 
 Mannette. It appeared that Claude, on his return 
 home the preceding night, had communicated 
 to his anxious sisters the whole circumstances 
 of his discovery, Garibert's perfidy, and (as they 
 would have it) the deceitfulness of Aline. They 
 could not conceal from themselves or deny to 
 Claude, that she had never shown him the least 
 encouragement, nor that she had almost wholly 
 given up her intercourse with them., as it was now 
 evident, for the purpose of avoiding him ; and 
 that, in fact, no blame could attach to her from 
 having given way to the impulses of her heart, 
 when they were unopposed by any obstacles of 
 delicacy or positive duty. But still their deep 
 mortification at the double disgrace which had 
 fallen on the family determined them, in spile 
 of their own reason and his remonstrances, to 
 renounce their friendship for one whom, had 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1GT 
 
 they known all tnat was about to happen, lliey 
 would have acknowledged to need their compas- 
 sion as much as she merited their regard. 
 
 But the contest between their hearts and their 
 pride, both equally wounded, was soon forgot- 
 ten in the contemplation of the loss they were 
 about to suffer. Claude had determined to aban - 
 don the country, and never to pass a day in the 
 scene of his past hope and present misery. He 
 at once decided to sell his little property, and re- 
 move to some distant district of his native moun- 
 tains, for his affection to the Pyrenees was not in- 
 jured by his own unhappincss. Rind and yield- 
 ing as his disposition was in general, he could, 
 as we have already seen, be firm when the case 
 required it. This was an occasion that called 
 for an exertion of all his latent energies. Resist- 
 ing the tears, the entreaties, the reproaches of 
 those sisters whom he loved so tenderly, he an- 
 nounced to them his unshaken resolution, and 
 passed the night in preparations for his volun- 
 tary exile. He made all the arrangements requi- 
 site for their guidance while he was to be sepa- 
 rated fcom them. He recommended his sisters 
 to each other's care, for in those wild and pas- 
 
468 CARIBERT, 
 
 loral districts, they wanted no other protection * 
 and having furnished himself with a small supply 
 of money, he took his leave of them with the 
 dawn, and proceeded to the Mairie of the com- 
 mune, to secure his passport, and consult with 
 the rustic magistrate on the hest steps to be taken 
 for the disposal of the old and the acquirement 
 of another residence. 
 
 He was gone when Mannette reached the 
 cottage, and the only return she received for 
 Aline's friendly message, was an account of his 
 departure, and a volley of reproaches, which 
 she comprehended as little as her sister deserved 
 them. 
 
 Moinard took the promptest means of inform- 
 ing the authorities of the dreadful catastrophe 
 which he suspected from the incoherent phrases 
 of Garibert. The whole commune was quickly 
 in motion ; and the several inhabitants performed 
 their various offices, consistent with their differ- 
 ent characters, of consoling the widow, seeking 
 the dead body, making inquisitive researches at 
 the cottages of Madame Lareole, Claude and 
 Moinard, securing the maniac, disseminating 
 the true intelligence, or fabricating false. 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 169 
 
 The ferment of horror and regret excited 
 throughout the neighbourhood was proportioned 
 to the shocking nature of the events, and the con- 
 sideration enjoyed by the unfortunate sufferers, 
 dead and living. The wide-spread feeling was 
 compassion. As soon as the sorrowful details 
 of the morning had acquired some consistency, 
 there was scarcely a heart that did not throb 
 with pity for the maniac, his widowed mother, 
 and desolate mistress. Even the sisters of 
 Claude, who saw in the involuntary suggestions 
 of superstitious vengeance only a just visitation 
 on the chief actor, even they could not withhold 
 their commiseration from the innocent partner 
 of his misery. They were among the first to fly 
 to Aline and offer their condolements, and she 
 felt a satisfaction quite apart from anything like 
 triumph, in listening to the ardent and innocent 
 expressions of sympathy, which poured with un- 
 broken fluency from the artless Jeanneton. 
 
 In this season of universal kindness., there was, 
 however, one malignant spirit abroad; and did 
 I wish to present a painful picture of evil, I could 
 make this wretch a prominent character here. I 
 prefer leaving him in the shade, merely stating 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
nO CARIBERT, 
 
 that he was one of those base~minded, envious 
 companions who hated Caribert for his supe- 
 riority, and now in his utter ruin came forth to 
 blacken his character by the foulest insinua- 
 tions. He spread the report, founded only on 
 his own pretended belief, that Caribert had been 
 the murderer of his father; that in a moment of 
 fierce altercation he had thrown him from the 
 precipice, together with the body of the bear 
 they had killed; and that his apparent frenzy 
 was assumed, in order to screen himself from 
 suspicion and punishment. 
 
 Monstrous as this story was, it gained a mo- 
 mentary belief; and the absence of Caribert, 
 who had fled in his delirium far into the moun- 
 tain fastnesses, seemed to give weight to the ca- 
 lumny. He was accordingly pursued, not from 
 the charitable feeling due to a wandering wretch, 
 but with the vengeful ardour of injured justice, 
 ready to crush a detested criminal. 
 
 After a day and night spent in the search, he 
 was at last overtaken by the officers of the law, 
 seized, and conveyed a prisoner to the chief 
 place of the district. He was suffering from all 
 the violence of a dreadful crisis ; and so clear 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 17J 
 
 were the evidences of insanity, so little shadow 
 of reason appeared to justify the odious imputa- 
 tion, and so strong a proof of the truth was ap- 
 parent in the position of the dead and mangled 
 body (which was found at the bottom of the 
 chasm locked in the death-grasp of its hideous 
 destroyer) , that the prayers of the wretched wi- 
 dow, added to those of the afflicted Aline, and a 
 numerous crowd of applicants, were granted by 
 the authorities; and the wretched sufferer was 
 safely conducted to the paternal cottage, and 
 given up to the natural attentions of his mother. 
 In all her cares she was assisted by the undaunt- 
 ed and indefatigable Aline, who vowed herself 
 to his service, and never shrunk one moment 
 from the duty. They nursed him together in 
 his worst paroxysms, aided by the voluntary 
 cares of the neighbouring men, when force 
 was necessary, and under the guidance* of such 
 medical advice as the village doctors were able 
 to bestow. 
 
 The unsubdued strength of €aribert's consti- 
 tution brought him through this trial for his life. 
 He arose from his bed a confirmed maniac, but 
 still vigorous in bodily health. He was watched 
 
 i2 
 
U2 
 
 with minute assiduity, but he never attempted 
 the slightest violence against himself or others. 
 When Aline was in his presence he was as tame 
 as the dog that crouched beside his chair, un- 
 conscious of the part it bore in the abandonment 
 which drove its master mad. When he missed 
 his idol from the chamber,, he still continued to 
 address her in wild but ardent language, as if 
 his visionary notions had always figured her be- 
 fore him. But sometimes during her absence, 
 he used to turn from the main subject of his 
 wanderings, and recur with shuddering and 
 horror to that of his falher's death. A wild 
 scream, an execration of his own cowardice, 
 or an abrupt and energetic expression suited 
 to such a desperate conflict as had cost the old 
 man his life, was the forerunner of ihese excesses 
 of fury. But the moment that Aline returned, 
 called in by the attendants, or herself on the 
 watch for these dreaded sounds, the patient 
 sunk at once into a state of innocent and even 
 childish subjection. 
 
 These symptoms related to the days imme- 
 diately succeeding his misfortune. In a fortnight's 
 time he was wonderfully recovered in health ; 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 73 
 
 he was able to go out; and so little appre- 
 hension did he excite, that in another week they 
 allowed him to wander alone (his greatest delight) 
 from cottage to cottage, gathering bouquets of 
 wild flowers to present to the neighbours. They 
 received him with deep pity; and even the little 
 children, to whom he was never an object of 
 endearment in his years of reason, used now in 
 his hours of insanity to hail his presence with 
 pleasure, and play with him without fear. 
 
 On these occasions he was always carefully 
 attended. Some of the youths were ever on 
 the watch. But whoever might volunteer the 
 duty, whether performed as a task or a pleasure 
 by the kind neighbours, there was one who for 
 many days accompanied his steps at a cautious 
 distance, watching his harmless ramblings, and 
 ever ready to come closer should he wander 
 into danger. That one was Aline. 
 
 The contrast between the strong feelings of 
 this admirable girl and the inferiority of Jean- 
 neton was never so conspicuous as now. The 
 latter, far from following the arduous example 
 of Aline, shrunk with terror from the slightest 
 approach of the object to whom she had fancied 
 
1 74 CAKIBEKT, 
 
 herself tenderly attached. It was not that she 
 experienced any of her first sensations of indig- 
 nant shame for his deceit, or any want of feel- 
 ing for his situation, hut merely that a consti- 
 tutional weakness of mind made her tremble 
 at the possible contact with madness. Every 
 one was astonished to observe how slight was 
 the force of her former passion, in comparison 
 with her foolish fears; and Aline could not 
 avoid a sort of satisfied and almost exculpatory 
 feeling for the offender, when she saw how little 
 capable of powerful sentiment was the object 
 of his injustice, and when she reflected that he 
 did the wrong for ker sake. 
 
 Moinard, whose ruling feelings were the love 
 of money mixed with a strong affection for his 
 daughter, seemed on this occasion to forget all 
 the first, in his more marked indulgence of the 
 latter. Aline possessed as much of his respect 
 as his love, and had that complete ascendancy 
 over him in all things, which we sometimes (but 
 rarely) see parents generous and wise enough 
 to concede to children superior to them by na- 
 ture. He yielded to every suggestion of Aline, 
 which had for its object the amelioration of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER, 175 
 
 Caribert's afflicting malady. As far as his 
 means went, there was no comfort requisite for 
 the maniac that he did not amply provide ; and, 
 a still greater proof of his submission to Aline, 
 he never opposed her attendance upon him ; 
 on the contrary, he frequently shared it with 
 her. In these moments of extraordinary fel- 
 lowship, both father and daughter had many 
 serious debates on the subject dearest to both 
 their hearts; and the compact usually entered 
 into between them was — that her father should 
 never in the slightest degree attempt to dissuade 
 her from the duty to which she had devoted her- 
 self, that he never should urge her to marry 
 any man while Caribert lived ; and she for her 
 part pledged herself by solemn promises equiva- 
 lent to oaths,, that even should he recover his 
 reason, she would never, under any inducement 
 or circumstance, become his wife. 
 
 To this last condition in their agreement, 
 pressed with all the force of a prudent and fond 
 parent's energy, her own good sense induced a 
 prompt and unequivocal compliance. She saw 
 clearly that even in a state of perfect recovery, 
 the shock received by his mind must always leave 
 
1 76 CARIBERT, 
 
 it debilitated, and lhat his impetuous feelings 
 would be ever on the brink of a relapse ; and 
 she shuddered at the idea of an union with one 
 who had, in a crisis so terrible, been the cause, 
 from whatever accident of feeling, of so horrid 
 a death to his parent. 
 
 Thus then the melancholy prospect before 
 her was, in the event of Caribert's recovery, a 
 life of mournful celibacy ; in case of his pro- 
 tracted insanity, a harassing and miserable at- 
 tendance upon him. The latter she fulfilled 
 with a dreary gratification — the former probable 
 sacrifice she looked forward to with ardent hope. 
 His death, which could alone free her from all 
 her engagements, never came in idea to her 
 mind that her heart did not sink within her. 
 But that possible event, to her so shocking, was 
 to Moinard the strong hope that bore him up 
 under all his sorrows. He calculated in the first 
 instance on the violence of the attack carrying 
 Garibert fairly off; and when he observed him 
 to gain strength, he hoped for a relapse. The 
 visits he paid him were for the observation of 
 his malady, rather than its alleviation ; and while 
 he indulged Aline in all her demands on ac- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 177 
 
 count of her lost lover, it was to preserve ap- 
 pearances, and conceal from her his real wishes, 
 which he well knew would be shocking in the 
 extreme to her. Moinard's heart was stern, and 
 even hard, in all the relations of life, except 
 those in which he stood towards Aline. His only 
 point of feeling was for her. He encouraged 
 the permission freely given to Caribert to ram- 
 ble about. He thought it very likely that some 
 event might cross him in his wanderings that 
 would give a more violent turn to his subdued 
 sensations — and he did not argue amiss. 
 
 A chance view, one evening, of two of the 
 hunters returning from the chase, with the skin 
 of a bear, the spoils of the day, suddenly open- 
 ed a new channel in the wayward feelings of the 
 maniac. The whole memory of his former life 
 seemed to burst at once through the darkness 
 of his mind. He started up, bounded forward, 
 hallooed wildly, " To the chase, father! come, 
 come !" and from that moment he was fully 
 impressed with the notion that the ghost of his 
 hapless parent was continually following him 
 with menacing attitudes and upbraiding looks; 
 
1 78 CAPJBEUT, 
 
 and to fly from these reproaches he hurried 
 along, using such expressions as might prove 
 his ardour in the pursuit to which he fancied the 
 spectre was urging him. 
 
 This abrupt transition from a state of languid 
 apathy was, nevertheless, unattended by any 
 disposition to outrage. The only danger to be 
 apprehended was that which might befal him- 
 self. His steps constantly pointed towards the 
 Tourmalet, that near neighbourhood of the fa- 
 tal scene; and it was feared that if ever he suc- 
 ceeded in reaching the horrid precipice alone, 
 he might in a paroxysm of frenzy hurl himself 
 into the chasm. The cares of his guardians 
 were therefore encreased tenfold, and were not 
 sparingly partaken by her who might be called, 
 without much exaggeration, an angel among 
 them. 
 
 In one of the wonderful varieties of his dis- 
 order, some days after this unfortunate change, 
 he suddenly became better, and for a few hours 
 seemed to have actually recovered his reason. 
 The doctor accounted for this by various theo- 
 ries, too deep for the understanding of his hear- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 
 
 179 
 
 ers; but the old woman attributed it entirely 
 to the influence of a new moon. However the 
 point might be, the momentary hope was soon 
 dispelled. The rational discourse held by the 
 patient during his lucid interval, his ample re- 
 cognition of the persons surrounding him, his 
 feeling of the truth of his own situation, all 
 quickly vanished in the sudden relapse which 
 took place almost immediately. This effort at 
 recovery seemed to plunge his mind still deeper 
 into the abyss, as each fresh struggle of a drown- 
 ing man, by weakening his powers, but sinks 
 him in exhaustion. 
 
 He no longer knew those who were near him. 
 Even Aline had lost her hold upon his memory ; 
 and events, as well as persons, seemed utterly 
 effaced from it. He talked in wild and wan- 
 dering strains of objects and of beings whom he 
 had never seen, grew confused in all his con- 
 ceptions of the things before him, and seemed 
 totally to forget all connexion between the pre- 
 sent and the past. 
 
 He still rambled about, and was still attend- 
 ed by Aline. She now scarcely quitted the cot- 
 
1 80 CARIBERT, 
 
 tage of his mother, except to follow his steps ; 
 or at night, when he was closely guarded hy 
 some one or other of his neighbours and former 
 fellow hunters, who now forgot all their pre- 
 vious jealousies, and vied in their alacrity on 
 this charitable duty. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 181 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 Between five and six weeks had thus rolled 
 heavily over, each succeeding hour bearing 
 some new load of care to those immediately con- 
 cerned in the fate of my unfortunate hero. 
 The snows melted away on the mountain tops ; 
 the ripening spring began to spread its green 
 and flower besprinkled carpet on the plains ; the 
 flocks exchanged the dreary imprisonment of 
 their wintry sheds for the highland pasturage, 
 where the odorous herbage wooed them by its 
 fragrance ; and the shepherds resumed their 
 annual tenantry of the loose-built .hovels, through 
 which the summer airs sported almost as unob- 
 structedly as on the naked hills around them. 
 But while nature seemed revelling in enjoyment, 
 the dark night of madness, and the sombre tvvi 
 
\ 82 CARIBERT, 
 
 light of grief had set their seal upon the two 
 minds the most fitted of all within their circle, 
 to indulge in the luxuriant charms of the open- 
 ing year. 
 
 There was one more, too, who, though dis- 
 tant from the scene, was not out of the influence 
 of these distresses. Claude, when he left his 
 home, had made a parting request of his sisters, 
 that they would not attempt to follow his track, 
 or strive to interrupt his purpose. To ensure 
 their acquiescence, and to give him every fair 
 chance of shaking off the memory of his afflic- 
 tions, he made it a point that they were not to 
 attempt any communication by letter, except 
 in the case of some illness amongst them. He 
 faithfully promised to let them hear from him 
 frequently ; and trusting the best for their health 
 and happiness (for he had no dread for the 
 elastic mind of Jeanneton), he hoped that an 
 utter absence from all his late associations would 
 root them out effectually from his mind. 
 
 As the weeks passed over his lone and melan- 
 choly career, he found that he was mistaken. 
 It was in vain that he sought relief in the va- 
 rious novelties on his way. He traced the wind- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 83 
 
 ing course of the Garonne from the mountains 
 to the plains; he walked the banks of the canal 
 of Languedoc, wandered through the streets of 
 Toulouse, the first large town he had ever seen; 
 stood upon the shores of the Mediterranean, 
 marvelled at the sight of ships and billows, and 
 gazed astonished at the deep blue sky, reflected 
 in the loveliest of moving mirrors. He saw 
 wonders in the charms of nature, and miracles 
 in the works of art; but he had no true enjoy- 
 ment or heartfelt sympathy in aught of these; 
 for the cold discourse of strangers checked every 
 warm emotion, and threw him upon the me- 
 mory of darker days, as the strand which flings 
 back an abandoned bark upon the chill bosom 
 of the waves that wrecked it. He wrote con- 
 stantly to his sisters, but all at second-hand. 
 Claude, like his former associates, was no 
 scholar, and in these cases he was forced to 
 have recourse to those dexterous bunglers who 
 abound in every town in France — those " pub- 
 lic writers," who in their stunted little wooden 
 hovels, melting in I he summer heat, or suffo- 
 cating by their winter's stove, ply so flourish- 
 ing a trade at the cost of their illiterate breth- 
 
1 84 CARIBERT, 
 
 ren, and mar with their vile rhetoric, with 
 " taffeta phrase and silken terms precise/' the 
 plain and honest expression of their unsophisti- 
 cated employers. The paper was always filled by 
 the dictation of Claude, and sullied by the style 
 of the amanuensis. Not a spot was left unoccu- 
 pied — the full heart seemed ever in want of space 
 to deposit its overflowings; but not one syllable 
 was ever to be seen— not one name recorded — 
 not one sentiment expressed, of all that caused 
 the heart's repletion. This forced reserve, this 
 abstinence from what had been till now the vital 
 nourishment of Claude's existence, was too un- 
 natural to be persevered in. He ever felt the 
 gnawing desire to speak of Aline. He thought 
 of her, of nothing but her, in despite of time, 
 of distance, and novelties, and resolutions. He 
 made a thousand efforts to deceive himself. He 
 seriously strove to persuade himself that his 
 anxiety to return home was all on his sisters' 
 account. He muttered to his conscience some 
 warm expostulations about duty and affection, 
 and the like ; but his conscience always retort- 
 ed by the utterance of a simple name — that 
 name which he adored as deeply and silently a? 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 185 
 
 the word which the devout Hebrew holds buried 
 in his heart's recesses. 
 
 He had done nothing yet towards the accom- 
 plishment of his journey's ostensible purpose. 
 In quitting the hills, he had insensibly taken a 
 course foreign to his first design, and the more 
 he saw of civilization and society, the more he 
 was convinced it was unfit for the adoption of a 
 mountaineer. He resolved, then, to take to the 
 Pyrenees once more ; and felt his heart lighter, 
 he knew not why, as he mounted their rugged 
 sides, and inhaled the freshening breeze that 
 seemed to welcome him. 
 
 As he tracked his way towards home, he exa- 
 mined minutely every place that might be likely 
 to suit his views ; but a thousand frivolous objec- 
 tions were involuntarily starling up, when any- 
 thing struck him as peculiarly adapted to them. 
 He seemed plagued with a perversity of oppo- 
 sition to the very object he sought for. The 
 fact was, his inclinations were not in tune with 
 his projects, for while his eyes explored each 
 new habitation, his head was fixed on the old 
 one — and there never existed a speculation, 
 planned by however wise a head, which might 
 
'] 86 CARIBERT, 
 
 not be baffled by one feeling of the heart. In 
 this case, at all events, Claude's plans went all 
 for nothing: and he found himself, at length, 
 after a journey of many a weary league, within 
 a day's march of home; without having taken 
 one step towards the design which was to remove 
 him from it for ever. 
 
 The anxiety which had accompanied him on 
 his expedition, encreased tenfold as the latter 
 was about to terminate. As he approached the 
 sphere of his former acquaintance, he seemed to 
 shrink into himself, for fear of meeting any one 
 to whom he had been known before. He dread- 
 ed the announcement of that intelligence which 
 alone he expected, and felt that the voice which 
 should first proclaim to him the marriage of 
 Aline and Caribert would sound like a death- 
 knell in his ears. In avoiding an encounter 
 with the dreaded reality, he kept, for his last 
 day's march, high above the inhabited districts, 
 and wandered in paths peopled only by the 
 phantoms which his apprehensions conjured 
 up. 
 
 When he at length got within sight of his 
 cottage, and gazed with full eyes and a beating 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 187 
 
 heart, far off beyond it, in the involuntary but 
 vain desire of catching a glimpse of another, 
 concealed from him by the unequal soil, the sun 
 was sinking in a sea of haze, made radiant by 
 his parting beams. Claude's shadow as he stood 
 on the edge of Mount Arbizon, stretched far 
 down the mountain, an emblem of his vague 
 and exaggerated alarms, and seemed like them 
 to hurry with gigantic movements towards the 
 spot that contained their unconscious author. 
 It was almost dark before be could summon re- 
 solution sufficient to descend into the inhabited 
 valley and approach his own door; and he did 
 so with great precaution not to meet any one 
 in his path. 
 
 His gentle tap at the door was answered by 
 a friendly M Come in," from the voice of Jean- 
 neton. Fearful of alarming her by an abrupt 
 entrance, he hesitated a moment, when she 
 added in a more pressing tone, " Gome in, 
 Simon ; are you afraid ?" 
 
 M I am not Simon, my dear Jeanneton, and 
 only afraid of frightening you," replied he, 
 stepping into the kitchen, and meeting her as 
 
188 CARIBERT, 
 
 she advanced to open the door for her expected 
 visitant. 
 
 " Claude!" cried she, throwing her arms 
 round his neck; M my dear, dear brother!" 
 
 At this sound, Aimee, the youngest of the 
 sisters, ran out from the inner room, where she 
 had been preparing for her early bed; and she 
 joined her embraces and welcomes to those of 
 Jeanneton. 
 
 u But my dear Jeanneton,," said Claude, 
 after they had all given vent to their joy at this 
 meeting, " you did not expect me. What 
 Simon was it for whom you were running to 
 open the door?" 
 
 " Oh! nobody, replied she, blushing, "but 
 Simon Guilloteaux of Bastan, who has stepped 
 in now and then of an evening since you left 
 
 It seems that he's a welcome visitor, Jean- 
 
 neton." 
 
 " Not a thousandth part as welcome as you, 
 my dear brother," returned she, again and 
 again embracing him. 
 
 " But Catrine," asked Claude, " where is 
 she r 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 1 89 
 
 44 Gone to Saraucolin," replied Aimee; "you 
 know this is letter day at the post-office,, and as 
 we had none from you the last two letter days, 
 we made sure of one this time/' 
 
 " Poor Catrine!" exclaimed Claude, " she 
 will be again disappointed." M Ah, but when 
 she comes back and finds you here, instead of a 
 lelter!" said Aim£e. 
 
 " Why that will certainly be better," replied 
 Claude. " You were waiting up for Catrine, 
 dear Jeanneton?" added he. 
 
 " For her?" uttered Jeanneton, confusedly — 
 M why — no — yes, — oh yes, I was expecting 
 her." 
 
 All remark from the questioner was stopped 
 by AimeVs crying out that she saw sister Ca- 
 trine coming up the path, close to the house. 
 To surprise her the more, both the girls in- 
 sisted on Claude's concealing himself in the clo- 
 set; and just as Jeanneton closed the door, she 
 whispered in his car, "Dear Claude, you need 
 not say any thing to Catrine about Simon Guillo- 
 teaux; I'll tell you all by and by!" 
 
 Poor Catrine, chagrined and fatigued, more 
 
) 90 CAMBERT, 
 
 by her disappointment than her journey, came 
 in out of heart, and out of temper. She sat 
 down, exclaiming that she had no letter, and 
 that she was sure Claude was dangerously ill or 
 dead. The peevish way in which this was ut- 
 tered, was not quite like the tone of conviction 
 which announces our belief in a calamity; and 
 when she saw the little effect it produced on her 
 sisters, Catrine's anger was more evident than 
 her grief. 
 
 " You are both very unfeeling," said she re- 
 proachfully. " I am astonished at you, Aimee; 
 as for Jeanneton, I dare say she forgets dear 
 Claude, as easily as she has poor Caribert, since 
 she has taken up with that good-for-nothing fel- 
 low, Guiiloteaux." 
 
 At these words Jeanneton looked anxiously 
 towards the closet door, fearful of Claude's 
 overhearing the accusation of levity so fiercely 
 pronounced against her. 
 
 Catrine, in her sharp way, saw the glance, and 
 the confusion of her sister, and bounced up 
 briskly, exclaiming — "I'll lay my new hood to 
 an eagle's feather, you have got the fellow hid 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 491 
 
 in the closet! Let me in, Simon," cried she, 
 pulling at the key. '* Let me in, I say, or I'll 
 break open the door. Let me in, let me in l" 
 
 Claude knowing her temper, flung the door 
 open, and received her in his arms. Her heart, 
 lull as warm as her head was hot, bounded with 
 astonished delight. She embraced her brother, 
 then Jeanneton and Aimee, then Claude once 
 more; and laughed and cried alternately for 
 several minutes. 
 
 This whole scene was the greatest possible 
 relief to poor Claude. An immense weight 
 seemed removed from his breast. He felt the 
 atmosphere of home penetrate to his heart; 
 he wiped his full eyes without restraint; and 
 sighed out manfully without fear of being sneer- 
 ed at. He sat down with all the sisters hanging 
 about him, and for the first few minutes was 
 not quite sure whether he was happy or misera- 
 ble. But he soon sank into the old train of 
 thought, and began beating about the bush to 
 come at the news, without venturing to ask a 
 plain question, or mention any name directly. 
 He was in momentary expectation of Aline's 
 
'1 92 CARIBERT, 
 
 being pronounced; and was marvelling much, 
 what could have made Catrine in her reproach 
 to Jeanneton prefer the epithet " poor" to the 
 name of the detested Caribert — that double- 
 faced epithet which, in its actual palpable sense, 
 is nine times out often a title of contempt; but 
 in its figurative meaning always a type of com- 
 passion. Its application in the present case 
 could be only in the latter way ; and it was a 
 riddle not to be read by Claude's unassisted 
 conjectures. While he was puzzling himself 
 how to come at its meaning, the explanation 
 burst upon him, in a manner at once shocking, 
 and almost incredible to him. 
 
 m Dearest Claude ," said Catrine, " you are 
 then indeed returned to slay with us for ever?" 
 
 " With you for ever, dear Catrine, but not 
 here." 
 
 " Surely you do not persist in abandoning 
 our old house?" said A.ime>. " I do indeed, 
 sister," sighed Claude. 
 
 ig No, no, cried Catrine, in a gayer tone; 
 " when you know every thing you will not 
 say so." 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 193 
 
 " Know every thing — what can you mean?'* 
 asked Claude, rising, and his heart jumping, as 
 he thought, to his throat. 
 
 " Tell us first all you have heard of us and 
 your old friends, since you left home," said Ca- 
 trine. 
 
 " Heard! — Nothing — not one word, good or 
 bad." 
 
 '« What ! not heard that Caribert" — she was 
 here interrupted by a piercing scream from 
 Jeanneton, who had been nearest the door, and 
 was looking half at her brother, and half out in- 
 to the twilight. She threw herself upon his 
 breast, crying "Save me, Claude IV — and while 
 she entwined one arm round his neck, she made 
 a violent effort to shut the door with the other. 
 Claude, still supporting her, tore it back upon 
 its hinges, in the natural impulse that prompted 
 him to face the danger, whatever it might be. 
 
 Straight before him, not ten paces distant, 
 vacantly gazing at the group within the cottage, 
 with hollow eyes and listless smile, stood Cari- 
 bert. His attitude and face were speaking evi- 
 dences of a host of sufferings. The languid 
 inertness of his form, and the marble coldness 
 
 VOL. i. k 
 
194 
 
 of his looks, struck Claude as perfectly shock- 
 ing. At the first glance his heart's blood mounted 
 high. When he gazed a moment it seemed 
 to curdle in his veins. 
 
 The hurried confusion and almost unintelli- 
 gible explanations which burst from the three 
 sisters together, left Claude bewildered and 
 amazed. He could not comprehend the mystery, 
 and seemed to have lost the sense of hearing. 
 The figure before him moved away, and was 
 followed at a short interval by another, which 
 appeared to him the conjuration of magical de- 
 ception. It was that of Aline, wrapped in her 
 hood, kindly waving her hand, and sadly smi- 
 ling, as she half-distinguished the cottage inha- 
 bitants through the twilight. Claude doubted 
 the reality of every thing around him, and sat 
 down in a chair to recover his scattered 
 thoughts. 
 
 AH his efforts to comprehend his sisters were 
 exerted to meet their endeavours to explain, and 
 he soon began really to understand the main 
 features of their harrowing story. He had no 
 time for reflection, and seemed capable at the 
 moment of but one strong sensation — that of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 105 
 
 overwhelminghorroratCaribert'sloss of reason. 
 When he rightly understood the purpose of 
 Aline's continued devotion to the duty she had 
 undertaken, he swore that he too would devote 
 himself to the sacred charge, and full of the 
 enthusiasm excited by such a cause, he flew 
 from the cottage and followed the steps of Aiinc. 
 Her astonishment at seeing him by her side 
 may perhaps be imagined. She had taken him, 
 in her imperfect passing glance, for the new 
 lover who had succeeded the unfortunate Cari- 
 bert in Jcanneton's favour. She received him 
 with all the warmth of friendship founded on 
 esteem ; his appearance was a solace unhoped 
 for and powerful ; and as they slowly tracked 
 together the homeward steps of the maniac, 
 she related the details of what had passed ; and 
 he drew, from the affliction they created, full 
 stores of hope that he was afraid to acknow- 
 ledge to himself, much less breathe to her. 
 
 From that night till the one on which I met 
 them, these admirable associates pursued tho 
 task they had voluntarily undertaken. In all 
 the changes of their hapless patient (and he had 
 had many, from sullen apathy to dangerous ex- 
 
 k2 
 
1 96 CARIBERT, 
 
 cess) they watched and followed him with una- 
 bating care. He had during this time one other 
 short gleam of reason. It was but flitting, and 
 seemed to leave him but more confirmedly lost ; 
 and the encreasing violence which succeeded 
 his relapse had only subsided, a few days be- 
 fore, into that treacherous calm, so like reco- 
 very as to deceive the sagacity of ihe doctors 
 and the hopes — Shall I still call them so? — 
 Yes ! the hopes of Aline, and the expectations 
 of Claude, 
 
 During all this time, Claude never ventured 
 to speak of love. There was no convention 
 .between him and Aline to lead to this forbear- 
 ance. The subject of his passion was never 
 mentioned. He tacitly loved on ; but when he 
 was with her it seemed to him as if it was not 
 love that led him to her presence. He fancied 
 that he looked on her as something beyond his 
 roach ; and that the solemn service which they 
 performed together, opposed a kind of religious 
 bar to the indulgence of such notions. It was 
 when he was away from her that he knew him- 
 self rightly, and found that, mixed with all the 
 purity of his attentions to Caribert, was the 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 197 
 
 passionate attachment — that rock on which their 
 friendship and their happiness had split. 
 
 Of the results to be expected, Claude had but 
 vague and most unfixed notions. He was so 
 much afraid of the subject, that he never essayed 
 to put his feelings or his thoughts in train, but 
 went on, thankful for the blessing of being near 
 Aline, and shuddering at each new turn of 
 Gariberi's disorder, whether it indicated a 
 chance of his recovery or the probability of his 
 death. 
 
 Moinard, with his eye steadily fixed on the 
 main point of his desires, the marriage of Aline 
 with Claude, gave every possible chance to the 
 latter for establishing himself in her affection as 
 firmly as he was fixed in her regard; and scru- 
 pulously acceded to every wish of his daughter 
 connected with her attendance on Caribert. 
 He meanwhile prayed fervently to all the saints 
 within the limited scope of his religious know- 
 ledge for the death of the maniac, which alone 
 could load to a chance of his object being accom- 
 plished. 
 
 Jeanneton continued very merrily her flirta- 
 tion with Simon; thought him an excellent 
 
198 
 
 substitute for Caribert; and gave but little at- 
 tention to the more serious proceedings of her 
 neighbours. 
 
 Having thus brought matters down to the stale 
 in which I first introduced this story to my 
 readers, I shall now give up my character as a 
 second-hand relater of other people's narrative, 
 and resume, in a new chapter, the account of 
 what came fairly under my own observation. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 499 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 As Moinard, Claude, Ranger, and myself ar- 
 rived at the foot of the mountain, on the summit 
 of which, it will be recollected, we were stationed 
 at the close of Chapter IV,, the full beauty of a 
 splendid summer morning was displayed before 
 us. The mists had all left the plains and set- 
 tled high on the mountain tops, except here and 
 there a gauze-like remnant, skimming transpa- 
 rently across their sides, like a solitary ghost 
 that had outstaid the hour of its earthly visiting. 
 The clouds, which we now left high above us, 
 opened in many places a downward passage for 
 the sun-beams, which spread far and wide across 
 the country, lit up the snow-covered peaks with 
 encreased brighlness, threw gayer tints upon 
 the dark green of the pine-forests, and flung 
 
200 CAMBERT, 
 
 their broad and golden streaks upon the em- 
 browned herbage of the soil. 
 
 We traversed the plain in the direction of the 
 Pic du Midi, which elevated its proud head in 
 isolated majesty, and stood out far in front of 
 the interminable chain of hills, as a giant-com- 
 mander before the line of his wide-stretched 
 legions. We began the ascent on the eastern 
 side, keeping in the direction of LakeEscoubous 
 to the left, and intending, if we should not suc- 
 ceed in discovering Garibert about its borders, 
 to mount towards the precipice, and cut into the 
 path that terminates the road from Grippe. 
 
 Just as we began to wind up the hill, a herd 
 of about a couple of dozen izards swept ab- 
 ruptly round its southern elbow, and rushed at 
 the top of their speed down towards the plain. 
 Their beauty of form and colour might be given 
 by a skilful painter ; but what pencil could con- 
 vey a notion of their inimitable grace, their agi- 
 lity and speed, as they darted along the levels, 
 sprang across the huge masses of granite, and 
 cleared at a bound the rivulets which flowed 
 across their way ! Moinard and Claude added 
 to their alarm by loud shouts, which echoed in 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 201 
 
 a hundred reverberations from the hills, and 
 threw into equal confusion the numerous eagles 
 which hovered slowly about the summits, as if 
 to guard the desolation below. 
 
 A few paces more gave us an extended view 
 towards the south, of several leagues of the val- 
 leys between us and the principal chain of hills. 
 The plains were for the most part bleak and bar- 
 ren, but were doited by occasional scraps of 
 wood and bramble. In one of these an izard 
 hunter was ranging with his two dogs. He car- 
 ried a staff in his hands, by the assistance of 
 which he sprang across every obstruction. He 
 was bare-headed; his gun was slung at his back; 
 his jacket open ; sandals on his feet, and a bugle- 
 horn hanging at one side. When the dogs took 
 too wide a range he recalled them by winding 
 his horn, and they (much no doubt to the an- 
 noyance of Ranger's well-formed habits) an- 
 swered by yells, almost as much in tune as the 
 mountain echoes which gave back the bugle's 
 sounds. While I observed the picturesque sce- 
 nery thus presented to me, an unlucky izard 
 started from his bed among the shrubs, the 
 dogs pursued, the hunter levelled his gun — but 
 
202 
 
 as I have already thrown the whole scene into 
 some twenty or thirty lines of description, I may 
 as well transcribe them here to fill up a page 
 or so : — 
 
 THE IZARD HUNTER. 
 
 Light o'er the lea the hunter bounds, 
 
 With buoyant heart and brow unclouded — 
 
 Shrill answer to his bugle's sounds 
 
 The hill, with its peak in thick mists shrouded, 
 
 And the baying of the hounds. 
 
 He quickly clears the deep ravine, 
 
 Treads with firm foot the blue-flower' d heath ; 
 
 But leaps those spots of treacherous green 
 
 Which hide the shaking moss beneath, 
 
 Like life's allurements veiling death. 
 
 Borne on his sharp-spiked staff he springs, 
 
 While the dogs thro 1 the brambly scrubwood rushing. 
 
 Fleetly lap the rock stream gushing ; 
 
 And eager snuff the quarry's trace, 
 
 And yelp the music of the chase — 
 
 And keenly search as their master sings, 
 
 And his lowland cares to the rough breeze flings. 
 
 The game is up, and away he goes ! 
 
 The izard springs from his leafy lair — 
 
 Cleaves, with a panting plunge, the air — 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 203 
 
 A moment breathes, and backward throws 
 One glance at the yelling foes. 
 An eagle from her crag-form* d nest 
 Spies the brief chase, and onwards soaring, 
 Flaps her way o'er the mountains breast, 
 And fancies food for the hungry nest. 
 She marks from her height the fusil's flash, 
 The death-struck izard tumbles down, 
 And blood-drops blush on the rock-weeds brown. 
 Straightway she stoops with rapid dash- 
 But the hunters stern fixed glances fearing, 
 In gloomy grandeur upwards steering, 
 Sweeps slowly through heaven's solitude, 
 To hover again o'er her screaming brood. 
 
 " Ah ! there goes Louis Lizier !" — exclaimed 
 Claude,, as we first got a view of the hunter. 
 " Woe betide the animal at which he levels his 
 rifle!" " 1 knew it," added he, as the izard fell 
 mortally wounded ; ' ' he never missed his mark. " 
 
 " He must be a sure shot, to hit an izard at 
 full speed," said I. 
 
 " Aye, that he is ; and the flash of his gun is 
 not a surer forerunner of death, than he is of the 
 hunters. We shall have the whole body of them 
 presently. Louis always goes out scout, to mark 
 the prey, and pick down the stragglers from the 
 
204 CARIBERT, 
 
 izard herds. He is a keen sportsman and fond 
 of venison. Hark ! I hear the cry of the Battue. 
 Come on quickly, Sir, — we shall see them down 
 in the wood from yonder point." 
 
 I pressed forward accompanied by Moinard, 
 who, though no sportsman by profession, had 
 sometimes followed the chase, and seemed in the 
 animation of the present scene to have forgotten 
 entirely the business that brought him with us 
 across the hills. When we reached the spot 
 mentioned by Claude, a new gorge was opened 
 to us, stretching to the right, thickly covered 
 with wood, rising to the westward with a gently- 
 sloping mountain, and bounded on the east by 
 the frightful wall of that precipice, many hun- 
 dred feet high , down which old Lareole had been 
 plunged. When I looked upwards, and marked 
 the edge over which I had hung the morning 
 before, and then cast my eyes down into the 
 rocky bottom, where the old hunter had lain 
 dead with his fierce and shaggy foe, I forgot for 
 an instant, in the shock caused by the view, the 
 more immediate objects of my curiosity. 
 
 My attention was however quickly recalled, 
 by the loud shouts which issued from the wood 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 205 
 
 below, the blowing of horns, the barking of dogs, 
 and the report of musket-shots. From the smoke 
 which rose up through the pine trees after each 
 discharge, I could ascertain that the party which 
 was scouring the wood advanced in a tolerably 
 regular line, and in the direction of the spot on 
 which we stood. Moinard threw himself care- 
 lessly down, and gazed upon the scene. Ranger 
 bounded, wagged his tail, and addressed many 
 supplicating looks to me, inquiring the meaning 
 of this barbarous proceeding. Claude loosened 
 his gun from its sling, grasped it in his hands, 
 and looked with a piercing glance, as if watch- 
 ing for his prey. I drew out the charges of shot 
 with which I had loaded on starting from Moi- 
 nard's house, and threw a ball into each barrel, 
 with somewhat of the compunctious visitings 
 which I always felt in putting my trusty and well- 
 beloved Joe Manton to such unfair and unworthy 
 trials. But in traversing the mountains, my prin- 
 cipal game was to be brought down with ball ; 
 — and the confession of my remorse is, after 
 all, only comprehensible to my English brother 
 sportsmen, who will I trust pardon -the offence 
 against home practices. 
 
206 CARIBEBT, 
 
 The rapid advance of ihe hunlers was made 
 evident by those telegraphic announcements sent 
 up through the trees — noisy reports ending in 
 smoke, and to which I have since known many 
 parallels in news from very nearly the same 
 neighbourhood. In a few minutes three or four 
 hares bounded out of the wood, and fled across 
 the plains, in defiance of the pursuit of the izard 
 hunters' dogs. Presently two bears emerged 
 from their concealment, and were soon followed 
 by a third, with a wolf who sought like them a 
 refuge from the approaching foes. All these fu- 
 gitive savages made, by a common instinct, to- 
 wards a rocky hollow about three hundred yard.* 
 in front of the wood, and close to the foot of the 
 mountain towards which we were gradually in- 
 clining. 
 
 Lizier, who recognized Claude, hallooed out 
 to us to descend still faster, to hem in the enemy, 
 and to prevent the possibility of his escape. The 
 wolf trotted on briskly from the wood, and soon 
 crouched down in the concealment of the bram- 
 bles and high fern that grew among the rocks. 
 The bears advanced to ihe hollow with fero- 
 cious growlings and steady gravity of pace, that 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 207 
 
 marked ihem insensible or indifferent to dan- 
 ger. 
 
 The dogs and hunters now began to appear. 
 The former to the amount of about twenty, 
 showed their good training by stopping on the 
 verge of the wood. They all laid down or stood 
 still, and many of them rolled in the heath, 
 refreshing themselves after their fatigue, and 
 gaining fresh vigour for the coming contest. 
 
 The hunters all paused as they came out, and 
 seemed to pay implicit obedience to the move- 
 ments of a young man who soon appeared about 
 the centre of the line, and who was distinguish- 
 ed from his comrades by a red scarf tied across 
 his shoulder, and a small flag of the same co- 
 lour, which he waved in various motions suited 
 to the commands he meant to convey. 
 
 " Ha! ha!" said Claude, " I see they have 
 chosen Simon Guilloteaux captain of the day. 
 I hope he may have good sport." 
 
 " I trust he may," replied I, " for your sis- 
 ter's sake. There is some profit in being leader 
 of a successful party, isn't there ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, Sir; there's a whole skin to 
 
208 CARlfeERT, 
 
 himself, if they kill an odd number of bears, 
 and a petit ecu for every wolf, besides his share 
 of the profits coming from the commune." 
 
 " Oh, then we must do our best to help the 
 cause — it will all be for Jeanneton's benefit, 
 you know." 
 
 44 Not a bit of it, Sir, — Simon is too much 
 of a rake not to spend every franc he gains in 
 one foolish way or other; — but he's agoodheart- 
 ed lad for all that, and marriage will settle them 
 both one day, for she's to the full as unsteady 
 as he." 
 
 The hunters had now fairly emerged from the 
 wood. I counted them, fourteen; and there 
 was something irregularly martial and fiercely 
 picturesque in their whole appearance and man- 
 ner. They looked, every one, as if they had 
 been or ought to have been soldiers. There 
 was an air of rude uniformity in their leathern 
 doublets, that gave a notion of discipline, and 
 something extremely inspiring in their ardent 
 gestures and bold attitudes. About half a dozen 
 carried fusils; the rest were armed with short 
 pikes, and the accessories formerly mentioned 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 209 
 
 in my description of the accoutrements of the 
 unfortunate Lareole, and his still more ill- 
 fated son. 
 
 Lizier and Claude soon informed the party 
 of the good sport they had driven hefore them. 
 They seemed all highly exhilarated by the intel- 
 ligence, and quickly prepared for the attack. 
 The captain divided his party, moving towards 
 the left with six, and ordering the others to 
 advance straight forward, that they might com- 
 mence the onset at two sides of the hollow; 
 Claude, Lizier, and myself, being already on 
 the rising ground opposite the wood, up which 
 they did not think of the prey attempting to es- 
 cape; while an opening was clearly left to the 
 southward to facilitate their flight, and leave a 
 space for the gunsmen to fire without danger to 
 the party. 
 
 The dogs stooped down and crept onwards, 
 as their masters silently advanced ; and when 
 the approaching footsteps sounded within hear- 
 ing of the wolf, I saw the ruffian throw his ears 
 back, lay his head close to the earth, and show 
 all the cunning air and posture of a fox, but 
 cone of the ferocity of his kind. The bears 
 
210 CAMBERT, 
 
 huddled together into the centre of the hollow; 
 and there was something extremely ludicrous in 
 the air of profound consultation of this heavy- 
 headed junta, and the associations it brought to 
 my mind, of ministers, monarchs, and the 
 Lord knows what. 
 
 Arrived at the edges of the hollow, the hunts- 
 men set up a loud cry to rouse the bears into 
 fury, and force them to quit their vantage ground 
 among the broken rocks and shrubs. The bears 
 growled, and foamed, and moved round briskly 
 in evident irritation, but they did not stir from 
 their position. The wolf rose up, and as he 
 made himself seen was assailed by fierce shouts. 
 Three of the dogs were let loose upon him, and 
 he immediately advanced towards the open 
 space. He looked round about him at the level- 
 led guns and determined looks of bis adversa- 
 ries; and then, whether from chance or calcu- 
 lation I do not pretend to decide, he made a 
 sudden rush to the leftward, bounded from the 
 hollow, sprang up the hill, and took full speed 
 towards us. Two ineffectual shots were fired 
 at him from the opposite side, and the bullets 
 whizzed close to us. JNo more- could be fired 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 21 I 
 
 from that quarter without exposing us to great 
 risk, and a waving downward of the captain's 
 flag prohibited the attempt. 
 
 " Now, Lizier, now! give it to him, give it to 
 him!" was the cry from every voice. Lizier 
 who stood about 100 yards below us, obeyed 
 the call, look a steady aim, fired,, and missed 
 him. Claude, burning with anxiety to outdo 
 this celebrated marksman, levelled his gun, and 
 struck a hundred fragments from a block of 
 granite, over which the fugitive made a bound 
 at the instant he pulled the trigger. It re- 
 mained for me to try my hand, and I certainly 
 had fair play. Both Lizier and Claude had 
 fired at the runaway obliquely; but when I 
 covered him he was dashing straight up the hill 
 before me. I felt that I had, as well as my own 
 reputation, the honour of Old England and Joo 
 Manton on the tip of my finger. I let lupus 
 get off to about 60 paces, when I fired. The. 
 ground was ploughed up right under his belly — 
 he galloped on unhurt, but his fate was not to 
 be eluded. He had not gone ten yards farther 
 when I pulled the second trigger. The ball hit 
 him right along the back, shattered the spine, 
 
21 2 CARIBERT, 
 
 and went clear through his neck. He tumbled 
 over five or six times, and lay stretched dead 
 upon the hill. 
 
 A shout of joy was his requiem from the whole 
 party, with one exception. That was Lizier, 
 who looked sullenly on, and hammered his flint 
 with an air of utter vexation. As I reloaded, 
 Ranger looked up for permission to go forward 
 to examine the defunct. I gave him a consenting 
 nod, and he cantered off, but returned with 
 his tail between his legs, afler a single glance, 
 frightened at the grim look of the dead enemy. 
 Simon Guilloteaux jumped wilh joy, threw up 
 his straw hat into the air, and vociferated many 
 compliments to me and my Joe Manton. 
 
 I remarked to Claude that his friend Lizier 
 did not seem to partake in Simon's pleasure. 
 
 " I don't wonder at that, Sir," said he; " his 
 black spiteful heart is sore wounded : it was he 
 who denounced Caribert as his father's mur- 
 derer." 
 
 My disquiet at the sight of the fellow, when I 
 heard this, took away for a moment my enjoy- 
 ment in the attack on the bears, which imme- 
 diately followed my feat of skill. But the 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 2/3 
 
 vigour of the combat quickly absorbed my at* 
 tention. Men and dogs advanced with equal 
 courage, and their superiority soon decided the 
 affair. The bears were all killed after a hard 
 struggle; and with only the loss of two dogs, 
 who fell in the first onset, and a few slight 
 scratches and bruises, distributed in fair propor- 
 tion between the captain and four of his most 
 ardent associates. 
 
 The work of slaughter lasted but a short 
 time; and when the last of the bears was dis- 
 patched, a loud concert of triumph burst forth 
 in shouts, blowing of horns, firing of guns, 
 and barking of dogs. The hunters began to 
 drag ihe carcases up into the plain ; the wolf 
 was brought down and thrown beside his com- 
 panions in death; and each combatant began 
 to examine the various wounds of the victims, 
 recognizing those he had himself inflicted; the 
 whole party chatting over the rapid events of 
 the battle. 
 
 There was certainly somewhat, beyond any- 
 thing I had imagined or can describe, of savage 
 interest in the scene. I felt a momentary repug- 
 nance to the very thought of fox or hare-hunt- 
 
214 CARIBERT, 
 
 ing, and made an inward vow against the lamer 
 sports of the field, which I have kept, just in 
 the manner of a poet who forswears publishing, 
 or a coquette who renounces flirtation after the 
 first disappointment. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I perceived, in the mean time, that Claude's 
 observation had wandered from what was passing 
 before us, in search of an object not evident to 
 his eyes, but occupying all his mind. He looked 
 out anxiously towards the lake ; and after ex- 
 changing some rude civilities with the hunters, 
 and making some inquiries concerning Cari- 
 bert, of whom they all declared they had seen 
 nothing, he and I proceeded in that direction; 
 Moinard taking the way back to Mount Arbi - 
 zon, to look after his flock and its shepherd. 
 
 Before we had advanced twenty paces in our 
 several routes, Claude stopped short, called out 
 suddenly, " There he goes, by Heaven!" or 
 rather an oath equivalent to that — and darted 
 at full speed towards a corner of the wood 
 
216 CARIBERT, 
 
 through which the hunters had driven their 
 prey. Moinard heard the exclamation, and 
 turned round; the hunters saw Claude's rapid 
 movement, aud looked out anxiously ; and I,with 
 emotions not easy to depict, strained my sight 
 to catch a view of the unfortunate maniac, 
 whose fate had so highly excited my curiosity 
 and interest. 
 
 I gazed some time in vain, and had I not de- 
 pended much on the accuracy of Claude's keen 
 and accustomed eye, I should have supposed 
 him to have been mistaken. He continued his 
 rapid pace ; and I at length observed a man 
 rise from among the underwood which was in- 
 termixed with a group of low fir trees; and 
 from his tottering gait as he advanced towards 
 the hunters, I concluded (and my suppositions 
 were afterwards confirmed) that he had fallen 
 down from weakness at the moment he was ob- 
 served by Claude. 
 
 This was indeed Caribert. I must not at- 
 tempt to analyze my own sensations as I gazed 
 on the deplorable figure he presented. The 
 scene around me, the precipice, and the slaugh- 
 tered bears weltering in their blood, were com- 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 217 
 
 binations well suited to such an apparition. 
 But his appearance lank and haggard, his 
 beard apparently the growth of several weeks, 
 his dark hair matted with weeds and damped 
 by the dew, his vestments torn against the 
 branches and roots through which he had all 
 night wandered; his worn-out mien, and frame 
 exhausted, — all this was unexpected and alto- 
 gether shocking. 
 
 I could not help figuring to myself, before I 
 saw him, a robust and active young madman, 
 of terrible aspect and ferocious purpose. The 
 first impression made by his appearance was 
 that of enfeebled age, unqualified to sustain a 
 struggle with a child. It was a subject over 
 which a moralist or a hero might have equally 
 wept without reproach. There was not one of 
 the hunters who did not show such symptoms 
 of compassion as their rough natures admitted; 
 and even Moinard, who stood beside me, was 
 touched by the woeful picture on which we 
 gazed. 
 
 Claude was soon joined by two or three of 
 the hunters, and as they advanced together to- 
 wards Caribert, I observed Aline following on 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 CARIBERT, 
 
 foot the steps of the wanderer, until she saw the 
 group that approached to meet him ; when she 
 slopped and turned into the wood, as if abashed 
 by the presence of such a company. I pointed 
 her out to her father, who immediately descend- 
 ed towards her, and passing by the skirt of the 
 hollow near which the hunters were scattered, 
 soon made himself observed by her, and re- 
 ceived her morning embrace. I could not rest 
 alone, a distant spectator of the scene, but de- 
 scended to the level ground, along which Cari- 
 bert was slowly moving. 
 
 As Claude and the others got near him, he 
 spoke, but I could only distinguish the sound of 
 his hoarse and hollow voice; the words were 
 inarticulate. The group soon surrounded him, 
 and it was not long before I joined them. I 
 made my way close up to him, and strove to 
 catch his incoherent and scarcely audible dis- 
 course. Nothing could be more discursive or 
 unconnected than what he said. He had evi- 
 dently lost all remembrance of the faces about 
 him ,* and though his rambling thoughts were 
 full of fancies connected with his former com- 
 panions, he scarcely in one instance applied 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 219 
 
 ihem rightly. The only one indeed which bore 
 any direct meaning, even in a superstitious 
 sense, was when addressing Louis Lizier : start- 
 ing off from some rhapsody which no one com- 
 prehended, his mind seemed to catch a sudden 
 glimpse of the past, and he turned with great 
 vivacity to Lizier, who leaned upon his fusil 
 close by, and regarded him with a lowering 
 gaze. 
 
 " You know it, don't you ?" said he, briskly 
 seizing Lizier by the arm. " You saw it? You 
 watched them while they fell, and heard them 
 crash down through the trees and rocks, and 
 listened to their groans ! It will be said I pushed 
 them over, but you will hurl perdition on the 
 heads of the false villains — I depend on you." 
 
 The fierce energy with which this was utter- 
 ed, the conscience-struck expression of Lizier's 
 countenance, and the astonished looks of the 
 surrounding men, were most striking. The lis- 
 teners seemed to consider the random words of 
 the maniac as the utterance of an oracle, and 
 there was something awful attached to their 
 coincidence with fact, from the superstition that 
 believes a madman's recognition of one who has 
 
 l 2 
 
220 CARIBERT, 
 
 injured him to be a sure announcement of a 
 violent death to such person. 
 
 Is was clear to me that Caribert did not re- 
 cognize the culprit whom he thus addressed. 
 But neither Lizier nor his comrades were of 
 my opinion, and the awe with which they all 
 seemed impressed was a fine lesson of human 
 weakness, and not a slight proof of the value of 
 superstition for the government of that class 
 over which it is the best, because the most na- 
 tural instrument. I deliberately say this, afcthe 
 risk of drawing down the censures of all the 
 Theophilanthropists upon me. 
 
 The blood which covered some of the hunters 
 now caught the observation of Caribert. The 
 lassitude and fatigue by which he at first ap- 
 peared bowed down, gave way all at once to a 
 sudden burst of animation. He snatched a 
 spear from the hand of one of the men next to 
 him, and brandishing it over his head, he shouted 
 hoarsely, " To the chase, to the chase!" His 
 emaciated limbs shook with nervous agitation, 
 and he hurried on through the files formed by 
 the hunters, who fell back as he advanced, and 
 offered no obstacle to his progress. As he 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 221 
 
 rushed on, shouting and waving the spear, his 
 eye fixed on one of the slaughtered bears — he 
 paused an instant, and then with a furious ex- 
 pression of countenance, and a violent effort at 
 utterance which his hoarseness rendered vain, 
 he flung himself on the body of the dead animal. 
 He took it up in his arms with a strength that 
 appeared giganlic — and dashing it then furiously 
 against the ground, he seemed at once to lose all 
 power, and fell down upon it, exhausted and 
 apparently lifeless. 
 
 He was completely besmeared with the blood, 
 and was altogether the most appalling object I 
 had ever beheld. He was raised up quite un- 
 resistingly by his friends. Aline and Moinard 
 approached, and she gave directions concerning 
 him, which were promptly obeyed. A rude 
 litter of pine branches covered with heath was 
 quickly constructed, and the poor wretch laid 
 upon it and borne on the shoulders of four of 
 his companions. Three others walked beside 
 it, with Claude, Aline and myself; and while 
 she held one of his hands, and kept steady her 
 hood which she threw over him, we occasionally 
 relieved each other in the task of carrying him. 
 
222 CAR1BERT, 
 
 Guilloteaux, with the remainder of the hunters, 
 staid behind to secure the spoils : Moinard 
 finally set out for his destination, and Lizier was 
 observed to steal silently off with his dog into 
 the wood. 
 
 As we advanced in the direction of Madame 
 Lareole's cottage, our unfortunate burthen 
 raved wildly, but with great exhaustion, and 
 evidently with a pleased impression on his mind. 
 We could collect from his scattered phrases 
 that he fancied he had killed the bear, and that 
 it was the identical one which had destroyed his 
 father. This idea of having revenged his pa- 
 rent's death, and redeemed his own character, 
 seemed to affect him powerfully, yet mildly. 
 The easy exercise of the litter harmonized with 
 the subdued tone of his feelings, and the lan- 
 guor of his frame,* and he soon dropped into a 
 slumber which continued till we reached his 
 house. 
 
 During our march Aline told us of her dis- 
 covering him soon after day-break, lying almost 
 fainting in the wood near which I had first ob- 
 served him. She had revived him with the 
 simple remedy of some snow from one of those 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 223 
 
 heaps which lie in the crevices of the hills, and 
 which melting away little by little as the season 
 advances, appear from a distance like straggling 
 lambs that repose in the sheltered nooks of their 
 wild pasture-grounds. He did not recollect her, 
 but received her assistance calmly ; and as soon 
 as he recovered himself proceeded without any 
 apparent object, wandering about, until he 
 heard the shots fired by the hunters, and their 
 shouts as they advanced. At these signals his 
 nerves seemed new braced, and his mind in- 
 flamed afresh. He pushed forward wilh en- 
 creased energy, following the well-remembered 
 sounds of the chase; and at length entangling 
 himself at each step of his hurried progress, he 
 fell repeatedly, until with strength almost en- 
 tirely exhausted, he reached the spot where 
 Claude's quick glance perceived him. Aline 
 was left behind in her pursuit. The intricacy 
 of the wood had obliged her to abandon her 
 pony in the place where she first fell in wilh 
 Garibert; and from fatigue and agitation, she 
 appeared very nearly as much in want of sup- 
 port as the helpless object of her care. 
 
 When, after a long and painful walk across 
 
224 CARIBERT, 
 
 the hills, we reached the term of our expedition, 
 we were met by the poor mother. She told us, 
 weeping, that she had been obliged to return 
 from her attempt at pursuit, the evening before, 
 almost immediately after Caribert had left the 
 house ; for having lost sight of him it was in vain 
 to continue it ; and that the young man who fol- 
 lowed him, when Claude went across to Moi- 
 nard's, had been equally unable to keep sight of 
 him after night-fall. He had relinquished the 
 attempt after some hours' efforts, and had, as 
 soon as the morning dawned, returned to inform 
 her; and then gone in search of Claude, in order 
 to join him in a new attempt. 
 
 The poor old woman wept bitterly as she 
 gazed on her son. She had, at first sight of his 
 motionless form extended on the rude resem- 
 blance of a bier, believed him to be dead. Her 
 expressions of sorrow, even on being assured of 
 his existence, were heart-rending. She accused 
 herself with unsparing invective as the cause of 
 this desperate relapse, in not having better 
 guarded him, and prayed a hundred times that 
 death might snatch her from the observation of 
 his misery and suffering. Yet he did not then 
 
THE BEAR HUNXER. 225 
 
 appear to suffer much. He was quietly laid on 
 his bed, and seemed insensible to pain. His 
 fever was, notwithstanding, most violent; his 
 skin was burning hot, and his lips and mouth 
 parched up. A couple of old neighbours soon 
 joined the mother in the care of the patient; 
 the doctor was sent for to the town six miles 
 distant; and every measure in the mean time 
 taken to give such relief as the innocent herbal 
 preparations of nature's pharmacopeia afforded. 
 He talked incessantly, always in the same 
 strain of satisfaction at having revenged his 
 father's death; and the old women, one and all, 
 pronounced that the happy turn of feeling caused 
 by this belief, must operate wonders for his 
 cure. I was standing close by his bed when 
 the ancient triumvirate pronounced their joint 
 opinion ; Claude and Aline were near me, and 
 I watched them well. He coloured red, and 
 then turned pale, laid hold of a chair that was 
 beside him, cast his eyes down, and appeared 
 to shrink from the observation which he looked 
 conscious of having attracted. Whether he 
 was shocked at the discovery he made of his 
 own thoughts, or whether these were, or were 
 
226 
 
 not, of a nature so to affect him, it would be 
 hard to say ; but I fancied I read the proofs 
 of a first sensation of astonished disappoint- 
 ment, in the sentence of recovery pronounced 
 on Caribert, and an afler-feeling of remorse at 
 the self-acknowledgment of such a sensation. 
 
 A thousand pages of explanation could not 
 describe the appearance of Aline. There never 
 was a more pure display of virtue and bene- 
 volence. There was an utter absence of every 
 sign by which selfishness betrays itself; unless, 
 indeed, selfishness may exist in the sublime de- 
 votion by which one mind identifies itself with 
 another, and makes the joys and sorrows of a 
 beloved object its own. 
 
 The remainder of the party who watched 
 round Caribert's bed, received with a profound 
 expression of pleasure the sybil-like announce- 
 ment of his progressive recovery; I know not 
 exactly what my own sensations were; but so 
 deeply interested was I in what I considered the 
 real welfare of Aline, so highly did I regard 
 Claude as connected with it, so little had I per- 
 sonally seen of Caaribert, and consequently so 
 faint was my attachment to him in comparison 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 227 
 
 with the others, that I am afraid I did not fully 
 sympathise in the warm hopes and happiness by 
 which I was surrounded. I had looked upon him 
 from the first moment as lost to the world. He 
 seemed to bear ihe stamp of dealh on his debili- 
 tated frame ,* and I thought I saw a sepulchral 
 glassiness in his eye, which shone like the cold 
 reflection of a mirror lighted by a midnight 
 lamp. 
 
 We persuaded Aline to take possession of Ma- 
 dame Lareole's bed, and get a few hours' repose; 
 and I with the rest of the party retired from the 
 house to share, in front of it, such refreshment 
 as our flasks and havresacks afforded. That busi- 
 ness settled, Claude turned his steps towards 
 home, and proposed to me to accompany him. 
 I was glad of the opportunity to see his sisters, 
 and still more so to have some conversation with 
 him alone on the subject of Garibert's expected 
 recovery. 
 
 I began this latter topic by expressing my 
 doubts of it. Claude shook his head with an in- 
 voluntary expression which seemed to say, '* It 
 is too true." He did not quite utter the words, 
 
228 CARIBERT, 
 
 but from his reply it was easy to see how per- 
 fectly the natural desire of his own happiness had 
 got the mastery over romantic feelings for the 
 unfortunate sufferer who had so deeply injured 
 it. He said it was a shocking thing to wish for 
 the death of any one; that Mine's well-being 
 was every thing to him; that he was willing to 
 make any sacrifice of his own hopes to ensure 
 her peace of mind: but I saw through all this 
 that poor Claude, perhaps without knowing it, 
 was any thing but cordially gratified by the pros- 
 pect of Garibert's recovery. Seeing this, and my 
 opinion (whatever my wishes might be) strongly 
 inclining to a belief that he lay on his death-bed, 
 I told Claude that I thought there was but little 
 chance for him. He again shook his head. " God 
 knows, Sir," said he; "it will be all for the best, 
 happen what will ; but if Mariette, the fat old 
 woman in the hood and blue boddice pro- 
 nounces for his recovery, it is as sure as the 
 day that shines on us." 
 
 " She certainly said so," replied I, " and re- 
 peated it a moment before we left the house. 
 You have an opinion of her skill ?" 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 229 
 
 M She is the wonder of the whole country, 
 Sir. She never went wrong either as midwife 
 or physician; and has more knowledge in her 
 little finger, than Doctor Bourmont in his big 
 head. But who have we here ?" added my com- 
 panion., looking down a little ravine on my left 
 hand. I looked in the same direction, and per- 
 ceived, to my utter surprise, my dandy coun- 
 tryman (whom I had supposed snugly snoring 
 in Aline's bed) toiling up the rugged bank of the 
 ravine., and piloted by no other guide than my 
 last night's friend, the goatherd, who had much 
 the appearance of one recovering from a de- 
 bauch, without the assistance of hock and soda 
 water. His protege", the dandy, looked all on 
 fire. His face was as red as his head; his eyes 
 were bloodshot ; I am sure that could his feel- 
 ings have been subjected to visual examination, 
 they would have appeared flame-coloured. He 
 swore like a trooper, and burst up through the 
 briars with terrible explosions of indignation ; 
 but made just about as much way towards the 
 top as could be expected from a living image of 
 the stone of Sisyphus. He was really a lament- 
 able spectacle. The place was quite irrigated by 
 
230 CARIBERT, 
 
 the springs, which had hurst out and flowed 
 down the sides of the hill, and he laboured 
 through a bed of weeds and mud. On every 
 bramble he passed, up or down, he left a rem- 
 nant of his coat, as naturally as the sheep who 
 were in the habit of going the same rough path. 
 His white pantaloons were slit into an accurate 
 copy of the slashed breeches of other days. His 
 Spanish-leather boots were torn to fritters. He 
 had irretrievably lost his hat ; and his smart 
 frockcoat having been totally despoiled of its 
 skirts, was by this summary process converted 
 into a nondescript kind of vestment between a 
 jacket and a spencer, most horridly unbecoming 
 to his lengthy limbs and their unfleshly appur- 
 tenances. 
 
 " The suburbs of his jacket being gone, 
 He had not left a skirt to sit upon." 
 
 " My good Sir," cried I, offering him my 
 hand, as with desperate contortions he looked 
 upwards for the twentieth time, " what could 
 have induced you to take such a path ?" 
 
 On hearing the sound of his own original mo- 
 ther tongue, which, in this unguarded moment 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 231 
 
 I inconsiderately spoke, he made a full stop: 
 and formed with his wide-stretched legs^ and the 
 ground he stood on, a gigantic figure of an equi- 
 lateral triangle, his body standing up in a right 
 line from its utmost apex. 
 
 " Heaven and earth!" cried he at length, 
 
 fc ' are you an Englishman ? I'll be d d if I 
 
 did not take you last night for a frog-eater/* 
 
 Recollecting myself immediately, and being 
 resolved not to acknowledge our national rela- 
 tionship (which was somewhat more distant than 
 he imagined), I replied with a shrug — 
 " I speak a little English, Saer." 
 " Why you had none of that cursed dis and 
 dot accent just now," said he, eyeing me keenly. 
 " I speak not mosh, Saer," said I, with a gri- 
 mace. 
 
 " Umph !" muttered he ; " well, give me your 
 hand, any how, and lug me out of this infernal 
 morass." 
 
 I tugged hard, and he struggled bravely, but 
 he had stuck ancle-deep, and his long spurs 
 held him as fast at anchor as a seventy -four 
 gun ship off the North Foreland. With the 
 help of Claude (the goatherd being quite un- 
 
232 CARIBERT, 
 
 fit for service from violent fits of laughter), I 
 at length succeeded in digging out the dandy ; 
 and we dragged him up to the bank all in a 
 foam, rivers of sweat pouring down his hollow 
 cheeks, and dripping along his mustachios, 
 which were thus brought into two fine points 
 below his chin, and performed their only possi- 
 ble office of use or ornament, as perspiration 
 conductors. 
 
 After a proper proportion of puffing and 
 blowing, necessary to put him into wind, his 
 first object was to inflict due chastisement on 
 the grinning goatherd, who, he swore, had led 
 him to this defile to have him conveniently 
 robbed and murdered, and whose malice spoke 
 plainly in his looks. Away, therefore, he darted 
 at full speed after the youngster, who seeing his 
 intention, took to his heels, and led him for 
 five minutes as pretty a little chase as could 
 be/ in a circle of about fifty yards diameter, 
 twisting and turning from his open-mouthed and 
 long legged pursuer, with the adroitness of a 
 hare baffling a greyhound on the Yorkshire 
 wolds. It was certainly good sport ; and the 
 dandy himself could not help laughing, when, 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 233 
 
 quite done up, he was obliged to fling himself 
 down, and the young dog came smiling up, and 
 demanded payment for his services. Native ge- 
 nerosity extinguished the dandy's remaining 
 ire ; and the goatherd received in his outstretch- 
 ed hand the flat slap of a piece of money, that 
 made him stare as if he would have swallow- 
 ed it. 
 
 I saw that Claude was now desirous of get- 
 ting to his home ; and my anxiety lying more 
 in a retrograde direction, I suffered him to set 
 off alone, saying that I would take care to put 
 my coatless countryman upon the right track 
 for the recovery of his pony. Claude there- 
 fore set out; promising to be at Garibert's 
 cottage in the evening; and the disbanded 
 guide trotted away joyously on nearly the same 
 route. 
 
 When we were left to ourselves, my new 
 companion poured out his complaints in no 
 milkiness of mood. He swore that the Spaniards 
 had stolen his horse, and that Moinard was 
 leagued with them in the theft. This was proved, 
 he said, beyond a doubt, by his absconding 
 during the night ; but was nothing in compa- 
 
-m 
 
 CARIBERT, 
 
 rison to the villanous bill of charges, which he 
 left ready made out with Mannette, to he pre- 
 sented as soon as he was stirring in the morning. 
 The items of this account being rather curious 
 specimens of mountain orthography as well as 
 imposition, I shall give a transcript of it here 
 for the benefit of my readers, faithfully taken 
 and done into English, from the bit of white- 
 brown paper on which it was scribbled, in my 
 friend Moinard's most-difficultly-to-be -decypher- 
 ed scrawl. 
 
 Memoire pr. M. V Jngle. 
 
 Lis - 
 
 Ganard pr. ron soupait 
 
 Fromagc id 
 
 Pin heurt let id 
 
 Aumletle id 
 
 Vin3bouts. 
 
 Quafi - 
 
 Au d' Vi5 avec Messrs. lez Es- 
 
 panaules 
 Chavail, foine avauine 
 
 gie. 
 fr. 
 
 c. 
 
 5 
 
 (1 
 
 4 50 
 
 
 25 
 
 1 
 
 73 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 fr. 27 
 
 75 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 Translation. 
 English Gentleman's Bill. 
 
 fr. c. 
 Bed - - - - - 5 
 Duck for his supper - 4 50 
 
 Cheese do. -. - 25 
 
 Bread, bulter, milk, do. - 1 75 
 Omtlette, do. - - - 2 
 Wine, three bottles --30 
 Coilce - - 1 25 
 
 Brandy with the Spanish gen- 
 tlemen - 7 
 Horse's hay and oats - 10 
 
 fr. 27 75 
 
 I endeavoured to appease the dandy, who 
 confessed that (on reflecting that such travellers 
 as he formed the only harvest of the poor 
 mountaineers, and must, therefore, expect to 
 be cut down without mercy) he did not care 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 235 
 
 much for paying a guinea or two for a day's 
 sport; that few people saw so much of a country 
 at so cheap a price; and in fact, that he would 
 have been well satisfied, and in very good hu- 
 mour after all his losses, but for the blackguard 
 robbery committed upon him in the person of 
 his pony. 
 
 On this tender point I soon tranquillized him, 
 by assuring him of the animal's safety, answer- 
 ing for the truth of Moinard's assertion that his 
 daughter had rode him away in search of her 
 lover; and by finally pointing out the cottage, 
 where both daughter and lover were at that 
 very moment. 
 
 "There, are they?" cried he; "then, by 
 the Lord, Monsieur, I'll go and have a peep 
 at them." 
 
 I remonstrated on the score of his tattered ap- 
 pearance, and recommended his accompanying 
 me to Moinard's, to recover his pony and set off 
 for Bagneres, the place whence he came. To 
 this he objected, assuring me that although he 
 had lost the skirts of his coat, he still had the 
 pockets of his pantaloons, and wherewithal in 
 
236 
 
 them to make him welcome wherever he went, 
 and that probably he had the will, as well as 
 the means, to heal the heart-sores of the girl 
 and her sweetheart. Upon this hint I turned 
 with him towards Caribert's lowly dwelling; 
 and though I did not think very highly of the 
 efficacy of his remedy for ihe case in question, I 
 did not fail to cultivate the kind feelings which 
 I saw spontaneously rising through the rough 
 soil of his independent spirit. 
 
 At Madame Lareole's he was not gratified 
 by a sight of either Caribert or Aline. They 
 bolh slept soundly; but the old woman made 
 her appearance; and the dandy was so touched 
 by the picture I had sketched of the distresses 
 around him, that he began counting down his 
 Napoleons to the wonder-stricken mother so 
 fast, that I was really obliged to hold his hand, 
 seeing that his heart was outstripping the pru- 
 dence with which all hearts ought to travel side 
 by side. Seven or eight of these golden gifts 
 remained in the firmly-shut hand of Madame 
 Lareole, whose fingers seemed to close as na- 
 turally upon them, as the feelers of some ani- 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 23T 
 
 mals fasten on their food. But as her hand 
 closed her heart opened, from some occult ner- 
 vous action, I suppose, and she began the ex- 
 pression of her gratitude in terms which the 
 dandy was too sensitive to endure. I saw very 
 plainly that he did not want thanks, and he 
 begged of me to hurry off with him towards 
 Moinard's, that he might escape from the 
 trouble of receiving praises and blessings. We 
 set off accordingly, and I was really so much 
 impressed with a favourable opinion of him, 
 that I could no longer resist acknowledging my 
 country. I got out of the scrape of my having 
 imposed myself on him for a Frenchman, by 
 telling him it was my object to be thought so 
 while I travelled in these wild parts. He was 
 too well satisfied at finding that I came from so 
 near home with him, to feel any annoyance on 
 the score of my harmless deceit, and threw out 
 many jocose hints as to my motives, which it 
 is unnecessary to repeat. 
 
 He marched manfully with me to Moinard's, 
 notwithstanding that his boots and his silk 
 stockings were fairly worn from his feet. He 
 
238 CARIBERT, 
 
 was a fine pioof of what good mettle can do in 
 these cases ; and he disdained to own himself 
 knocked up when he arrived. We beguiled the 
 way by various efforts to be agreeable to each 
 other. At his request, I threw into the rough 
 imitation formerly given to the reader the 
 sense of the song sung by the Spaniards. He 
 in his turn confessed himself a bit of a geolo- 
 gist. I looked amazingly profound and mar- 
 bley, as if I had been a chip of the same block, 
 as he avowed his great disappointment in not 
 having been able to pursue his search after 
 Schistus, and Euphodite, and Thonschiefer , 
 and Quadersandstain — and Heaven knows how 
 many other varieties, of which I was only puz- 
 zled to know how he could remember the 
 names, or who could have invented them. 
 
 Arrived at the cottage, we got from Moinard 
 a straw hat and an old cloak wherewith to 
 cover his raggedness, and for which he paid 
 double their original value ; he then discharged 
 his bill, mounted his pony; squeezed my hand; 
 gave a hearty damn or two to all mountain 
 districts and roguish mountaineers; and set off 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 239 
 
 in a gentle canter towards Bagneres — the tat- 
 tered remains of one boot and its brass spur 
 trailing upon the road, like the ill-fastened 
 drag chain of a stage-coach. 
 
240 CARIBERT, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 I passed the remainder of the day with 
 Moinard, talking over the events of the morn- 
 ing, and collecting from him many of the par- 
 ticulars which I have already woven into my 
 narrative of previous occurrences. I gave up 
 my original plan of returning to Caribert's, 
 thinking that my presence would be but useless. 
 I occupied the bed evacuated by my country- 
 man ; my host, as usual on such occasions, 
 turned into a pallet under one of the sheds; 
 and Mannette, in the natural course of promo- 
 tion, crept between the blankets to which the 
 night before she had served as a coverlid. 
 
 I never slept so soundly. The extreme fa- 
 tigue of the last two days., the effects of a heavy 
 supper, consisting chiefly of a rich ragout of 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 241 
 
 izard-flesh seasoned strongly with garlic, and 
 the soporific qualities of two large glasses of 
 brandy-and-water, all combined to hold me fast 
 to my mattress, until late in the morning, when 
 I was aroused by a clatter in the kitchen, be- 
 tween Mannelte, her eagle and her izard, who 
 were all breakfasting together; the clamorous 
 demands of her two pets mingling with her shrill 
 voice, which was going its ordinary course of 
 hearty laughter. 
 
 I started up, opened my window, gazed out 
 on the magnificent prospect of mountain scenery 
 before me, and forgot, for a moment, in con- 
 templating nature on this grand scale, how much 
 of human suffering was contained in the narrow 
 compass of poor Caribert's cottage. Recalled 
 to the train of thinking in which my nine hours* 
 dreamless sleep had made so wide a gap, I was 
 soon ready to join Moinard in a visit of inquiry 
 to Madame Lareole, both of us being anxious 
 to know the state of her poor son, but not ex- 
 actly from the same motives. 
 
 We started together, and paid a passing visit 
 to Claude's sisters, as I was curious to see the 
 
 vol. i. . m 
 
242 
 
 various persons connected with all I had been 
 hearing so much about. Claude was gone off 
 to the spot where all his hopes and fears were 
 centered. The girls were all at home, neat and 
 respectable, but differing in nothing from the 
 homely inhabitants of the hills, excepting that 
 Jeanneton had rather a more lively eye than the 
 others, and a rosier tinge mantling in her dark 
 brown cheeks. They appeared all in low spirits, 
 and Gatrine, the eldest, had some conversation 
 in an under tone with Moinard, which seemed 
 sensibly to disturb him. 
 
 He appeared anxious to quit the cottage, and 
 soon after we had taken oar leave, he told me 
 that Claude, on his return home the night 
 before from his second visit to Caribert, had 
 announced that the doctor who had seen him 
 coincided perfectly with the old women, that he 
 was in a way of rapid recovery both of health 
 and reason. 
 
 " Bad news that, Sir, both for Claude and 
 me ; and what a prospect for my poor girl I" 
 
 << Why, let's see, Mr. Moinard/' said I. " It 
 is clear to me she is doatingly attached to this 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 243 
 
 unfortunate Caribert. I know something of the 
 human heart ; and believe me, if he recovers, as 
 they say he will, you may yet see your daugh- 
 ter very happy as his wife." 
 
 " Ah I never, Sir, never — you don't know 
 her heart, or her head either. Supposing even 
 that he did quite recover, let me tell you that he 
 has not a franc in the world, but the poor 
 pittance he could make by his hunting." 
 
 " That consideration would not weigh much 
 with Aline," said I. " But it weighs very 
 heavy with me, let me tell you," retorted he 
 quickly; " and she has promised me never to 
 marry him." 
 
 " Well, well, my friend," replied I, "it is 
 useless to guess at what may happen ; but I re- 
 commend you to make up your mind for the 
 chance of all these promises being broken." 
 
 " But suppose, even," exclaimed he, after a 
 few minutes' thought, — " suppose even he 
 shouldn't recover his wits, is there any chance 
 of her marrying Claude?" 
 
 " Not the least," answered I, although it was 
 clear the question was put to himself rather than 
 
 m2 
 
244 CARIBERT, 
 
 to me. ' ' I think not too," said he with a heav y 
 sigh j and we spoke no more till we crossed 
 Madame Lareole's threshold. 
 
 "Ah! this is kind of you, my dear Mr. 
 Moinard," cried the old woman, receiving us at 
 the door, and kissing her neighbour on either 
 cheek — " very kind indeed, to come up and 
 join in all our happiness." " How is Caribert 
 getting on ?" asked he, freeing himself gently 
 from the arms of the mother. 
 
 " Miraculously well!" replied she. " He 
 has had such a night as he has not passed, 
 poor fellow, for many and many a long month.'' 
 " Indeed!" muttered Moinard. " Where is 
 ray daughter?" 
 
 " Here I am, my father," said Aline in a soft 
 tone, stepping from the little inner room where 
 Caribert lay, and giving me a smile as she 
 passed. She had at this time an expression of 
 countenance entirely new. It was a mixture of 
 all that was most delightful in an ardent mind, 
 benevolence, high hope, and gratitude to Heaven. 
 
 " How is he now, Aline?" asked Moinard, 
 while she embraced him. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 245 
 
 " Oh much, much belter," replied she ; " he 
 advances, thank God ! most rapidly. Doctor 
 Bourmont has just been here, and expects every 
 thing from the crisis that is coming on, and so 
 does Mariette. In two days more his fate will 
 be decided: that is, his mental recovery will, 
 please Heaven, take place. That view of the 
 bear yesterday morniDg, and the blessed notion 
 it inspired, is the date of all our hopes. Three 
 days, they say, must pass before the positive 
 change, because the moon will enter a new 
 quarter then — only till the day after to-morrow ! 
 My dear father I" She here threw her arms again 
 round her father's neck, and could not restrain 
 her tears. 
 
 " Ah ! Aline," said he, " it is a sad thing 
 when that which makes a daughter weep for 
 joy, is near bringing tears of sorrow into the 
 eyes of her old father." 
 
 " My dearest father," exclaimed Aline, 
 " think of the poor sufferer that lies in that 
 little room." 
 
 " What," said he — " and forget the fine 
 fellow walking out there in the garden!" and 
 
246 CARIBERT, 
 
 he here pointed to Claude through the win- 
 dow. 
 
 The looks which kept time with this short 
 colloquy, gave it a character of considerable 
 eloquence and feeling. It ended here, for 
 Aline softly withdrew herself from her father's 
 embrace, and retreated towards the chamber 
 of the invalid. Moinard walked out into the gar- 
 den, to talk with Claude and keep up his spirits, 
 in his rough way of giving condolence. I sought 
 the old woman, in order to gather what I could 
 as to the actual state of Caribert's mind. They 
 had nothing new to communicate. He had 
 continued in the same tranquil state in which I 
 left him ,* and slept profoundly the whole day 
 and night, which (I agreed with his nurses) was 
 caused by an effort of nature to shake off the 
 fever that had before oppressed him. 
 
 I asked if I might see him, and the permis- 
 sion was rapidly granted. I entered the room 
 carefully; and saw Aline sitting on a chair near 
 his bed, watching his placid countenance. He 
 was still sleeping, and the smile on Aline's lips 
 seemed caught from that which played round 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 247 
 
 his; and as far as might be judged from the 
 expression of a face, with eyes closed, and 
 almost concealed by his beard, his mind in 
 its dawning state was revelling in happy fan- 
 cies. 
 
 After some time I joined Moinard and Claude 
 in the garden, and the former told me the sub- 
 ject of their conversation. It consisted of re- 
 solutions on the part of Claude, met by dissua- 
 sion from Moinard, finally to arrange his former 
 plans, and leave the neighbourhood, when Cari- 
 bert's recovery should be decidedly pronounced. 
 Invited to give my opinion as an umpire be- 
 tween them, I thought it would be an act of 
 unkindness to poor Claude, not to confess that 
 I fully agreed with him. It was quite evident 
 to my disinterested observation, that by delay- 
 ing near Aline, he was only hoarding up new 
 stores of misery for himself; for I saw enough 
 of her to make up my mind, that as soon as 
 Caribert recovered, the whole barrier against 
 their union would give way, although it had 
 been made up of materials a thousand times 
 stronger than it was. 
 
MS CAR1BERT, 
 
 Announcing this opinion as calmly as I eould, 
 I saw that Claude was almost struck dumb with 
 disappointment to find it tally with his own. 
 He had wished to hear it, had appealed to me 
 for itj and saw that it was just — hut he hoped 
 all the while to he deceived, and wished so with- 
 out knowing it. But Moinard was at last be- 
 ginning to come round to my way of thinking. 
 He now, for the first time, confessed his fears 
 that my opinion might be prophetic, and would 
 have suffered much more keenly on the occa- 
 sion than he did, had not a new light seemed 
 to break in upon him all at once. 
 
 After some time spent in round-about ways 
 of coming at the expression of this new notion, 
 he exclaimed, " Why you see, Claude, it is use- 
 less to repine, if Heaven ordains that you must 
 give up your hopes of Aline. It is not every 
 shot that brings down ihe bird we aim at. — 
 Don'tbe offended, Claude; you area sportsman, 
 and you know that the net that lets one rabbit 
 loose, may hold another fasl. I know very well 
 how truly you love the girl, and you know how 
 much we all love you; — Mannette and myself, 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 249 
 
 I might say, much Letter than Aline. Now I 
 was just thinking that, after a year's fretting or 
 so, if the worst come to the worst, you might 
 brighten up a little, and look about you again. 
 I don't want to flatter you, Claude; but you 
 know how I wished for you as a son-in-law, and 
 who knows what may happen yet? It is not for 
 me to praise my own child, and she's nothing 
 but a child now, to be sure; — but a year will 
 soon pass over, and then, you see, Mannette will 
 be sixteen, or thereabouts— and a nice comely 
 lass I'll engage for it — and who knows what may 
 happen, after all ?" He here ventured to look up 
 in Claude's face for the first time since he be- 
 gan his oration. Claude had stared at him all 
 through it, without comprehending what he 
 would be at; but discovering his meaning at 
 length, he only shook his head and replied, 
 " Mr. Moinard, Mr. Moinard, you don't know 
 what you are talking about, or what I feel." 
 With these words he walked away; but after 
 one or two turns in the garden he rejoined us, 
 announcing his intention of moving homewards. 
 Moinard said he would accompany him, and 
 
UoO CARIBERT, 
 
 explain what he meant on the road; they walked 
 off together. 
 
 As for me, I was resolved to remain where 
 I was, and I made the excuse of my want of 
 occupation, and my wish to be of service in case 
 a male assistant might in any way be wanted : 
 for the men had all gone off, one by one, to 
 their several homes. I was, in fact, much in- 
 terested in the progress of Caribert's recovery; 
 for independent of my delight in observing the 
 movements of Aline's feelings, I felt the chance 
 of remarking so extraordinary an occurrence 
 as a rare piece of good fortune to a person of 
 my pursuits; for though not one of the faculty, 
 I had followed the study of moral diseases wher- 
 ever I chanced to find them — and where have 
 I not? 
 
 I therefore loitered about the house; entered 
 it occasionally; chatted with the old woman, 
 whose favour I had completely gained, in a 
 great measure, through the generosity of my 
 countryman : I conversed now and then with 
 Aline, and watched the proofs of her beautiful 
 disposition in her looks; for she had not many 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 251 
 
 words at command. While she, and I, and two 
 of the old women, were taking our dinner of 
 onion-soup and sallad, which every body ate 
 with that fine appetite given us by hope, and 
 the third nurse sitting by Caribert's bed, the 
 trotting of Doctor Bourmonl's horse announced 
 his visit, and he soon alighted and entered the 
 room. He was a short thin man., of extremely 
 nervous appearance, and rather timid manner. 
 He addressed himself respectfully to Mariette, 
 and inquired the state of his patient. She re- 
 plied that he went on marvellously well. 
 
 " Still sleeping ?" 
 
 M Oh! always, Sir—" 
 
 " So much the better — Don't you think so, 
 Mariette?" 
 
 " To be sure I do, doctor; that's all he 
 wants." 
 
 44 Has he taken the ptisan?" 
 
 44 Bless your heart, Sir, no; how could he 
 in his sleep?" 
 
 " Ah ! very true — let me see him." 
 
 We here all entered the sick room after the 
 doctor. He proceeded cautiously to feel his 
 
252 CARIfeERT, 
 
 patient's pulse, first proclaiming his looks all for 
 the better. While he felt the pulse with a most 
 profound expression of countenance, Aline's 
 eyes watched him with inexpressible eagerness. 
 When he withdrew his hand from Caribert's 
 wrist and said, " All's right, all's right,* his fever 
 is gone, and we may pronounce him quite well ;*' 
 she could no longer restrain herself, but utter- 
 ing an exclamation of " thank God, thank 
 God !" she burst into an hysteric laugh, and 
 putting her hands to her face, she rushed out 
 of the room. 
 
 At the sound of her voice Garibert opened his 
 eyes, stared wildly round, and said faintly, 
 " That was Aline!" She heard his words — 
 stepped back involuntarily into the room, and 
 looked upon him. He fixed his eyes on her a 
 moment, raised his hand towards her, and 
 sunk again into sleep. 
 
 " It is enough," said the doctor,* " his reason 
 has returned." 
 
 Aline sobbed almost to suffocation, the poor 
 mother threw herself on her knees, and wept 
 and prayed incoherently ; the old women 
 
THE BEAK HUNTER. 253 
 
 chorused all she said, with loud expressions 
 of felicitation. I could not trust myself any- 
 longer in the infection of the general weak- 
 ness, but accompanied the doctor to his horse, 
 held his bridle while he mounted, and per- 
 formed the civilities of the house as he slowly 
 trotted away. Seeing how much I made my- 
 self at home at the cottage, he begged of me to 
 have great care taken that Caribert was kept 
 perfectly tranquil, for although his recovery 
 was certain, it was not complete, and he might 
 be driven into relapse by any premature agita- 
 tion. In obedience to his prudential wishes, I 
 returned to the attendant group, and they all 
 agreed too fully with the doctor's views, not to 
 observe his orders strictly. It was arranged 
 that they should watch one by one, regularly 
 relieving each other ; but that no two were to 
 be together in his room, to avoid the possi- 
 bility of his being disturbed by conversation. 
 His mother commenced her hour's watching, 
 and was succeeded by the others with great re- 
 gularity. 
 
 Old Mariette, who was looked up to as the 
 
254 
 
 regulator of every thing concerning the patient, 
 said that all went on well except one point ; he 
 breathed freely and slept soundly, but she did 
 not like his not asking to drink. " If he would 
 but take of that ptisan," said she emphatically, 
 " it would act like magic on him !'' Knowing 
 the sacredness of devotion in which such diet- 
 drinks are held by the French of all classes and 
 distinctions, from the duchess down to the 
 monthly nurse, and having myself neither pre- 
 judice for or against those wishey-washey prepa- 
 rations, I paid but little attention to Marietle's 
 anxiety. 
 
 Midnight approached ; and at last (his mother 
 sitting by his bed-side) the patient put his hand 
 to his mouth, as if he would drink. His mother 
 reported this to Mariette. " Heaven be praised," 
 cried she ; "I have now no fears for him." 
 
 We all, who sat round the fire, participated 
 in her satisfaction at this decisive sign. He 
 took a deep draught, seemed much refreshed, 
 and dropped again into sleep. 
 
 All being now well, Aline took her turn of 
 watch. We had been the whole evening en- 
 
THE BEAU HUNTER. 255 
 
 deavouring to persuade her to lie down and 
 sleep; but she could not, as long as Mariette 
 had any doubt of matters going rightly. She 
 had therefore rejected all our solicitations, and 
 it now having come to her turn she persisted in 
 fulfilling her duty. She accordingly entered the 
 chamber, and took her station on the low chair 
 beside her Caribert's bed. She went into the 
 room cheerful and animated. I felt my heart 
 throb with more than common pleasure at wit- 
 nessing her happiness ; and for a few short mi- 
 nutes I ran over in fancy the days of joy that I 
 counted for her during the final recovery of her 
 lover, and the bliss that I could not help believ- 
 ing destined for her as his faithful and beloved 
 wife. The old women resumed their positions 
 round the fire, and as I saw they were all, even 
 their careful old Mariette, worn out with watch- 
 ing, I determined to take a stroll on the hill, 
 and enjoy the silent beauties of the clear moon- 
 light. 
 
 I walked thus, moralizing and poetizing for 
 above an hour. True to that ever-working 
 principle of egotism which leads the mind 
 
256 CARIBERT, 
 
 through all the labyrinths of analogy back 
 upon the home of its own selfishness, I ran over 
 in that period the many recollections of my own 
 chequered life, and planned and fancied mat- 
 ter enough for centuries to come. At last I 
 began to feel chilly, and returned to the cottage. 
 I entered cautiously, and found every thing 
 wearing the same appearance as when I had 
 walked out, the old women in their unvaried 
 postures, and all sound asleep. I crept softly 
 towards Caribert's room, and saw that poor 
 Aline had also yielded to the influence which 
 in hours of woe and apprehension she could so 
 easily resist, but which this short season of her 
 happiness had so effectually disposed her to re- 
 ceive. Tired nature had sunk; she had quilted 
 the chair, and sat on the floor beside the bed, 
 her head upon it, her eyes just closed, and her 
 senses all locked up. I returned to the outer 
 room, took the chair which the old crones had 
 left vacant for me in front of the fire, and in- 
 fected by the examples of repose around me, 
 after a short time I too began to doze away, and 
 finally slept like my companions. 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 257 
 
 Were I to live for those centuries over 
 which my thoughts had before been wandering, 
 J could never forget the sound that woke me 
 from that slumber — a shriek too horrid even to 
 think of— or the sight that struck upon my eyes 
 when I reached the place from whence the alarm 
 proceeded. I rushed into Caribert's room, and 
 thought I saw a spectre. It was Aline — stand- 
 ing upright on the spot where I had left her 
 sleeping, her face bloodless, her eyes staring 
 like the gaze of madness, her hands holding up 
 close to her heart the hand of Caribert. Be- 
 lieving her under the influence of a horrid vision , 
 I caught her by the arm and shook her forcibly, 
 but she was not dreaming. I touched the hand 
 which she held in hers, but it was stiffened in 
 the colder clasp of death. Caribert was no 
 more. He had died while she slept by him. 
 She awoke from her imperfect slumber, was 
 startled by the death-like silence around her, 
 heard no breath, caught his hand, and found 
 it icy and motionless. 
 
 Such was his quiet, yet with all the circum- 
 stances of hope — of certainty even — I must say 
 
258 CARIBERT, 
 
 his terrible death. Reflection may tell me, it 
 is true, that he died happy ; that his last hours 
 were solaced by the notion of having revenged 
 his father's fate; and one flitting moment, 
 sweetened by the sound of her voice whom he 
 adored, and possibly by the shadowy glimpse of 
 his recovered reason brightened by her sight. 
 It is thus I wish my readers to reflect upon 
 his exit; and I will not strive to strengthen any 
 more painful impressions which may rise upon 
 their minds. I therefore pass over the scene of 
 suffering that followed this shocking and quite 
 unlooked-for event. It is of little importance 
 to know hy what error of judgment the poor 
 patient's disorder was mis-conceived, and its 
 termination so sadly mis-calculated. I shall 
 leave his memory in the care of my readers, 
 and pass to other subjects. 
 
 Not being willing to deal too hardly with 
 poor human nature in its moments of trial, I 
 never wished to enter deeply into the secret 
 of Claude's momentaneous feeling when he first 
 heard of Caribert's death. God knows what 
 the best of us might have felt in his case, during 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 259 
 
 the temptation which such a surprise held out 
 to selfishness. But I saw him very soon after. 
 I saw him standing over his rival's death-bed 
 — I saw him following him to his grave — a 
 faithful portrait of disinterested sorrow. He 
 wept over the friend of his youth, his compa- 
 nion and playmate, the man he had chosen for 
 the husband of his sister, and the confidant of 
 his own true passion. In this united character 
 he mourned him bitterly; and I firmly believe 
 that neither recollection nor resentment disco- 
 loured by one stain the picture he imaged to 
 himself. 
 
 It may be well supposed that this genuine 
 display of generosity and worth sank deep in 
 Aline's heart. Would any of my readers have 
 had her insensible to it, or have wished her to 
 withhold its reward, and renounce the mani- 
 fold chances of happiness which its participa- 
 tion offered to her sorrow-stricken heart ? I 
 wish, if there be any such, that they had seen 
 her as I did about a year ago, with two fine 
 boys hanging at her neck ; her husband (the 
 identical Claude) smiling beside them; and a 
 
260 
 
 CARIBERT, 
 
 Jook of sober contentment settled on the face 
 that I had so often seen agitated by deep woe. 
 
 Jeanneton carried on a long flirtation with 
 Simon Guilloteaux, and was two or three times 
 half tempted to jilt him ; but good fortune tri- 
 umphed over her frivolity, for during one of 
 her moments of true feeling, apart from co- 
 quetry, he asked her seriously to marry him. 
 She consented, was married, and is now, as 
 Claude foretold, the steady and respectable wife 
 of an honest, industrious man. Lizier, haunt- 
 ed by the superstitious presentiment of the fate 
 which he believed decreed for him, threw him- 
 self as if by destiny into the way of a hundred 
 dangers. He thus converted the chance-wan- 
 derings of insanity into a prophecy. lie escaped 
 all native risks, but he joined the French army 
 which marched for the invasion of Spain, and 
 was almost the first man who fell, in the further- 
 ance of an enterprise as dark and treacherous 
 as he who thus became one of its earliest vic- 
 tims. 
 
 Mannetle is, I hope, by this time happily 
 married to a young man of Sarancolin, for 
 
THE BEAR HUNTER. 261 
 
 there was great talk of such an event when I 
 last visited the hills. Jeanneton's sisters re- 
 mained at that time single, and they assisted 
 their old friend Aline to make Claude's cottage 
 and native spot so happy to him, that I verily 
 believe he would not now exchange it for the 
 whole side of any other mountain, though it 
 were covered with gold and precious stones. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.