The Peasant and the Prince | Page 6

die in some dreadful way."
"You have not served out of France," observed Randolphe, as he came up, with the third soldier, and seated himself on the bench. "You have not seen either Lisbon or Germany, I suppose; for I can tell you that Lisbon is a good way off from any place where this princess has been. Well, I am sorry to hear anything hurts her spirits; but, to be sure, the great earthquake was an awful thing."
"I am thinking," said Jerome, "that a good many thousand people must have been born that same day; I hope they are not all troubled with bad spirits. It would be a curious sight to see so many people of fifteen all low about the manner of their lives and deaths."
"She is very low sometimes, however," observed his comrade. "When she was leaving the city she lived in, she wept so that nothing was ever seen like it. She covered her eyes sometimes with her handkerchief, and sometimes with her hands; and looked out many times from the coach-window, to see her mother's palace once more."
Everyone thought there was no great wonder in this. A young girl leaving her own country for ever, to be the wife of a foreign prince whom she had never seen, and could not tell whether she should like, might well be in tears, Randolphe said. Had she cheered up yet?
"Yes, indeed," said Jerome, "that she has. When she saw the fine pavilion on the frontier, she was pleased enough."
The boys wanted to hear about the pavilion.
"It was there," said Jerome, "that she was to be made a French princess of. It was a very grand sort of tent, that cost more money than I can reckon."
Randolphe sighed.
"There were three rooms," continued Jerome; "a large one in the middle, and a smaller one at each end. In one of these smaller rooms she left everything she had worn, even to her very stockings, and all her German attendants; and then she went through to the other, where she found her French attendants, and her fine French wardrobe."
"And shall we see her in some of her new clothes?" asked Marc.
"Certainly." And Jerome went on describing the princess's dress, and told all he had heard of her jewels, and furs, and laces, till the soldiers observed that their host had sighed very often. One of the soldiers then said that it was enough to make poor men like themselves sad to hear of such luxury, when they were hungry in the long summer days, and cold all the long winter nights.
"What need you care?" said the host, somewhat bitterly. "You are provided for by law, when we country people are ground down by it. You come upon us, and must be served with the best, when we have not enough for ourselves."
The third soldier declared that he thought this a very uncivil speech. Jerome said that he, for his part, could dispense with civility in such a case, when he happened to know where the truth lay. He assured Randolphe that soldiers like himself were as little pleased with the state of things as any countryman. They themselves were the sons of peasants; and many had led a cottage life, and knew how to pity it. But he must say, a soldier's life was very little better. The army could not get its pay. Glad enough would soldiers be to save trouble to their hosts, if they had a little money in their pockets; but pay was not to be got, in these days, by soldiers, any more than if none was due to them.
His smoking comrade thought there must be an earthquake somewhere in France, swallowing up all the money: for nobody could tell where it all went to.
"How can you say that," said Randolphe, "when you think of the numbers of idle people that are feeding upon those who work?--I hear you, wife," he said, in answer to a warning cough from his wife within. "It is no treason to say that in this land there are swarms of idle folk, living upon the toil of us who work."
The guests declared that they were men of honour, who would be ashamed to repay hospitality by reporting the conversation of their host. Besides, nobody in France could question the feet. To say nothing of the old king, languishing in the midst of costly pleasures, so vicious that by every indulgence he purchased the curses of virtuous families, and the hatred of the poor,--besides all the extravagances in that quarter, there were the nobility, sitting heavy upon the people throughout the land, like the nightmare upon the sleep of a wearied man. These nobles must all be rich,--must all be pampered in luxury, though not one of them would work