Colonel Philibert and Master Pothier rode up the broad avenue that
led to the Chateau, and halted at the main gate--set in a lofty
hedge of evergreens cut into fantastic shapes, after the fashion of
the Luxembourg. Within the gate a vast and glowing garden was seen--
all squares, circles, and polygons. The beds were laden with
flowers shedding delicious odors on the morning air as it floated
by, while the ear was soothed by the hum of bees and the songs of
birds revelling in the bright sunshine.
Above the hedge appeared the tops of heavily-laden fruit-trees
brought from France and planted by Talon--cherries red as the lips
of Breton maidens, plums of Gascony, Norman apples, with pears from
the glorious valleys of the Rhone. The bending branches were just
transmuting their green unripeness into scarlet, gold, and purple--
the imperial colors of Nature when crowned for the festival of
autumn.
A lofty dove-cote, surmounted by a glittering vane, turning and
flashing with every shift of the wind, stood near the Chateau.
It was the home of a whole colony of snow-white pigeons, which
fluttered in and out of it, wheeled in circles round the tall
chimney-stacks, or strutted, cooing and bowing together, on the
high roof of the Chateau, a picture of innocence and happiness.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118