The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-08-10
A NIGHT SPENT ON A MOUNTAIN.
Pretty Stephanette and Her Rustic
Adorer = A Visit to the Sheep
Fold = Nearly Drowned in a
Swollen Stream = Mysterious
Sights and Sounds-The Le-
gends of the Heavens.
Written for THE SUNDAY CALL.

Mont de PUre passed there to look for me-
dicinal herbs, or [ saw the black face of
some Piedmont collier; but they were
simple souls, silent by dint of solitude, hav-
ing lost the taste for talking and knowing
nothing of what was said down in the vii
lagos and towns. Hence every two weeks
when / heard upon the ascending high
way the bells of our farm mule bring
ing me my provisions for the coming
fortnight, and saw gradually appear
from below the lively counteuance
of the little farm-boy or the red locks of
old Aunt Norade, was indeed delighted.
l made the visitor tell me the news of the
country at the foot of the mountains, the
baptisms, the marriages, but that which in
terested me most of all was what had hap
pened to my masters daughter, our Demoi-
selle Stephanette, the prettiest girl for ten
leagues around.
without appearing to be too much bent
upon acquiring this knowledge l gathered
information as to whether she went great
deal to fetes and evening assemblies;
whether new admirers were still thronging
about her; and should you ask me what
good those details could do me, poor shep-
herd of the mountain, will reply that
was 20 years old and that Stephanette was,
in my eyes, the handsomest creature on the
face of Gods earth.
CHARMING APPARITIoN.
Now, one Sunday when was waiting for
my provisions it so Glanced that they did
not arrive until very late. In the morning
l said to myself, ut is the fault of the
high mass; then toward noon a heavy
storm came on and l thought that the mule
had been unable to set out because OF the
bad condition Of the road. At last, about
3 O'Clock in the afternoon. the sky having
cleared and the mountain being all of
glitter with water and sunlight l heard,
amid the droppings from the leaves and
the overlooking of the swollen brooks, the
bells of the mule, as gay and brisk as a
grand church chime ON Easter day.
But it was neither the little farm-boY nor
old Aunt Norade who was urging the ami
NAL along 1t was-guess who! our demo-
selle, my friends-Our demoiselle herself.
seated right between the osier baskets, all
rosy with the mountain air aud the cool
ness brought on by the storm.
The little farm-bOy was sick; Aunt
Norade was absent on holiday visit TO
her children. Pretty Stephanette told me
all this as she sprang down from her mule,
and also that she was late in arriving, be-
cause she had lost her way; but to see her
so finely dressed, with her lowered rib
bons, her brilliant skirt and her lace, she
had rather the air Of having fingered at
some dance than of having sought for her
road among the bushes.
Oh. the delicious creaturel My eyes
could not grow weary of gazing at her 1t
is true that had never seen her so near.
Sometimes during the winter, when the
flock had gone down into the plain and
had returned in the evening to the farm
house to sup, she passed briskly through
the hall, without talking much to the ser
wants, always bedecked and trifle naughty
Now l had her there before me, for myself
alone. Was it not enough to turn my head?
woMAN's CURIOSITY.
When she had taken the provisions from
the basket, Stephanette began to look curl
ously around her. Raising little her Sun
day skirt that otherwise would have become
stained with mud, she entered the fold.
She wished to see the corner where | slept,
the pile of straw that was my bed. my
sheepSkin covering, my big cape hung
against the wall my crook and my flint
lock gun. All this amused her.
- So 1t is here you live, is it, my poor
shepherd" said she, with a heavenly
smile. How tired you must get Of always
being alone. What do you do? What do
you think abOut?"
had strong desire to reply, about
you, mistress" and | should have told the
truth, but my confusion was so great that
l could not find single word. l think she
noticed this. and that the mlscheyouS cTea-
ture took pleasure III redoubllng my ell
barassment with her roguery.
And your sweetheart, shepherd" con-
tinued she. docs she climb up here to
see you sometimes? Surely she must be
the Golden Goat or the Fairy Esterelle,
who skips only. over the SUBMITS of the
mountains" And she, herself, as she
spoke thus to me. had the very air Of the
Fairy Esterelle, with her lovely head thrown
back the peaIly laughter ripping from her
cherry lips, and her haste 10 depart that
made her visit seem Ike dazzling vision.
''Adiea, shepherdW
"Adieu, mistress r.
Aud she was gone, bearing away VIII
her The empty baskets.
THE DEMoIsELLE's RETURN.
When the descending road hid her from
sight it seemed to he that tile stones roll
ing beneath the shoes Of the mule were
falling one by one upon my heart | heard
them long, long time and until the close
of the day, | was like one wrapped in
sweet slumber, fearing to stir lest L might
drive away my dream.
Toward evening, as the depths of the
valley began to grow blue and as the sheep
huddled together bleating to return 10 the
fold, L heard some one call me down the
road and saw reappear our demOiSelle, no
longer smiling as l had seen her a short
time before. but trembling with cold, fear
and wet. 1t seems that at the base of the
mountain she had found the Sorgue terri
bly, swollen by the recent rain, and that in
making desperate effort to cross it she
bad nearly been drowned.
The most dreadful thing of all was that
at this hour of the night she could not
think Of attempting to return to the farm,
for our demoiselle by herself could never
find the way by the short cut. and could
not leave the flock. The idea of passing
the night upon the mountain tofmented her
almost TO madness, particularly on ac-
count of the uneasiness her family would
feel. AS for me, l treasured her the best
was able.
.'In July the nights are short, Mistress"
said |. 1T will hardly seem more than a
wretched moment"
And | quickly kindled roaring fire to
dry her 1eet and her dress, all soaked with
the water OF the SOrgue. Afterward |
placed before her milk aud sheep's-milk
cheese, but the door damsel did not think
either Of warming herself or of eating, and
at the sight of the big tears that gathered
in her eyes felt like weeping myself
THE FEARS OF THE NIGHT.
Meanwhile night had come on apace.
There remained upon the crests of the
mountains only sprinkle of sun-a vapory
light toward the west. l invited our
demoiselle to enter the fold and sleep.
Having spread handsome new sheepskin
over the clean straw, babe her goodnight,
and going out into the open air seated my
self before the door. God is my witness
that, despite the fire of love which was
scorching my blood. no evil thought came
to me-nothing but an overpowering pride
on thinking that in corner of the fold,
her as she lay asleep. my masters daughter,
Ike sheep more precious and whitar than
all the rest, was reposing, intru5ted to my
care.
Never had the heavens appeared to pos
sess such depths, never had the stars seemed
SO brilliant. Suddenly the door of the fold
opened and pretty Stephanette made her
appearance. She could not sleep. The ami
mails ratified the straw as they moved about.
or bleated in their dreams. She preferred
to come to the FIRE. Seeing this. cast my
sheepskn over her shoulders. l stirred up
the flames and we sat down side by side
remaining thus without utteriug single
word.
If you have ever passed night In the
open air, you know that the hour when we
sleep mysterious world awakes amid the
solitude and the silence Then the brooks
sing in their cearest tones and the ponds
are lighted up with tiny flames. All the
spirits of the mountain freely come and go;
there is rustling in the air, there are al