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Page 86
"Well, Ma�tre Bernard," cried Christian, "it is broad daylight; had we
not better start?"
Then, speaking to Fuldrade, who seemed buried in thought--
"Fuldrade, this old gentleman cannot drink our kirschwasser, yet I cannot
offer him water. Have you anything better?"
Fuldrade took up a milk-pail, and, with an intelligent glance at
Christian, went out.
"Wait a moment," she said; "I shall be here directly."
She rapidly tripped over the wet meadow; the drops of rain, collecting in
the large leaves, poured about her feet in little crystal streams. At her
approach to the cave the finest cows arose up as if to greet their young
mistress. She patted them all, and, having seated herself, began to milk
one, a fine white cow, which, standing motionless, with eyes half-closed,
seemed grateful for the preference.
When her pail was full Fuldrade made haste back, and, presenting it to
Bernard, said, smiling--
"Drink as much as you like; that is the way we drink milk warm from the
cow in the country."
Which was done at once, the good man thanking her many times, and
praising the excellence of this frothy milk, flavoured, as it were, with
the wild aromatic plants of the Schn�eberg, Fuldrade seemed pleased with
his eulogiums, and Christian, who had slipped on his blouse, standing
behind them, staff in hand, waited for the end of these compliments
before he cried--
"Now, master, en route! We have plenty of water now to turn the mill for
six weeks without stopping, and I must be back by nine o'clock."
And they started, following the gravelly road under the hill.
"Adieu!" said Ma�tre Bernard to the young girl, who gently bowed her head
without speaking; "farewell! and may God make you always happy!"
The next day, about six in the evening, Bernard Hertzog, having returned
to Saverne, was seated before his writing-desk, and describing in his
chapter upon the antiquities of the Dagsberg, his discovery of the
Merovingian arms in the woodman's hut in the Nideck. Then he went on to
prove that the name of Tribocci, or Triboques, was derived from the
German _drei b�chen_--that is, three beeches. As a convincing proof, he
referred to the three trees and the three toads of Nideck, which latter
our kings have converted into three _fleurs-de-lis_.
All the antiquaries of Alsace envied him this admirable and interesting
discovery. On both banks of the Rhine he was known as doctor,
doctissimus, eruditus Bernardus, under which triumphal titles he dilated
with honest pride, while he tried to bear his honours with becoming
gravity.
And now, my dear friends, if you are curious to know what became
of old Irmengarde, refer to the second volume of Bernard Hertzog's
_Archeological Annals_, where under date July 16,1836, you will find
the following statement:--
"The old teller of legends, Irmengarde, surnamed '_The Soul of the
Ruins_,' died last night in the hut of the woodman Christian. Wonderful
to relate, in the very same hour, almost the same minute, the principal
tower of Nideck fell, and was washed away by the waterfall below.
"Such is the end of the most ancient monument known of Merovingian
architecture, of which Schlosser, the historian, says," etc., etc.
THE QUEEN OF THE BEES.
"As you go from Motiers-Navers to Boudry, on your way to Neufchatel," said
the young professor of botany, "you follow a road between two walls of
rocks of immense height; they reach a perpendicular elevation of five or
six hundred feet, and are hung with wild plants, the mountain basil
(thymus alpinus), ferus (polypodium), the whortleberry (vitis idoea),
ground ivy, and other climbing plants producing a wonderful effect.
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