All French! This
affectionate unanimity also came to meet the detested owner of the
castle. He had to exchange greetings first on one side, then on the
other, grasping many a horny hand. Behind his back the people broke
out into kindly excuses--"A good man, with no fault except a little bad
temper. . . ." And in a few minutes Monsieur Desnoyers was basking in
the delightful atmosphere of popularity.
As the iron-willed old gentleman approached his castle he concluded
that, although the fatigue of the long walk was making his knees
tremble, the trip had been well worth while. Never had his park appeared
to him so extensive and so majestic as in that summer twilight, never
so glistening white the swans that were gliding double over the quiet
waters, never so imposing the great group of towers whose inverted
images were repeated in the glassy green of the moats. He felt eager to
see at once the stables with their herds of animals; then a brief glance
showed him that the stalls were comparatively empty. Mobilization had
carried off his best work horses; the driving and riding horses also had
disappeared. Those in charge of the grounds and the various stable
boys were also in the army. The Warden, a man upwards of fifty and
consumptive, was the only one of the personnel left at the castle. With
his wife and daughter he was keeping the mangers filled, and from time
to time was milking the neglected cows.
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