THE STRANGE FESTIVAL

As soon as they had disappeared, the schoolboy came out of his hiding-place. His feet were frozen, his joints stiff, but he was rested and his knee seemed healed.

‘Come down to dinner?’ thought he, ‘I certainly shall. I shall simply be a guest whose name every one has forgotten. Besides, I am not an intruder here. It is quite clear that M. Maloyau and his companion were expecting me....’

Coming out of the absolute darkness of the alcove, he managed to see fairly well about the room, by the light of the green lantern.

The bohemian had ‘decorated’ it. Cloaks had been hung from curtain books. On a heavy dressing-table, with its broken marble top, was displayed all that was necessary to transform into a beau any lad who might have spent the previous night in a forsaken sheepfold. A matchbox lay on the mantelpiece by the side of a tall candlestick. But they had neglected to polish the floor; and Meaulnes was aware of sand and rubbish under his shoes. Again he had the impression of being in a house which had been disused for a long time. Going towards the fireplace he nearly stumbled over a pile of cardboard boxes large and small: he reached out an arm, lit the candle, then lifted the lids of the boxes and stooped down to look.

He found young men’s costumes of days long gone by, frock coats with high velvet collars, dainty waistcoats cut very open, interminable white cravats, and patent-leather shoes dating from the beginning of the century. He dared not touch a thing even with his finger-tips; but shivering as he cleaned himself, he put one of the long cloaks over his schoolboy overall and raised its pleated collar; he changed his hobnailed shoes for elegant pumps and prepared to go downstairs bareheaded.

He reached the bottom of a wooden staircase in a dark corner of the yard, without meeting any one. The icy night air blew on his face and raised one side of his cloak.

He took a few steps and thanks to the faint clearness of the sky he was at once able to get an idea of his surroundings. He was in a little yard formed by outhouse buildings. Everything appeared old and ruined. Gaps yawned at the bottom of the staircase, for the doors had long since been removed; nor had the panes been replaced in the windows, which made black holes in the walls. Yet all these buildings had a mysterious holiday aspect. A coloured reflection hovered about in the low rooms, where also lanterns must have been lit looking on the countryside. The ground had been swept, invading weeds pulled up. Meaulnes, listening, thought he heard something like a song, like children and young girls’ voices down there towards the shadowy buildings where the wind shook the branches in front of the pink, green, and blue opening of the windows.

There he was, in his long cloak, like a hunter, stooping to listen, when an extraordinary little fellow came out of a neighbouring building any one would have thought deserted.

This little fellow wore a top hat very much curved in, which shone in the night as if made of silver, a frock coat with its collar reaching his hair, a low-cut waistcoat, and peg-top trousers.... This dandy, who might have been fifteen, was walking on tiptoe as though lifted up by the elastic straps of his trousers, but very swiftly.

He greeted Meaulnes as they met without stopping, automatically bowing low, and disappeared in the darkness in the direction of the central building, farm, castle, or abbey, the turret of which had guided the schoolboy early in the afternoon.

After a moment’s hesitation, our hero followed in the wake of the strange little personage. They crossed a wide open space, half garden, half yard, passed in between clumps of bushes, went around a fenced fish-pond, then a well, and found themselves at last at the entrance of the central building.

A heavy wooden door, rounded at the top and studded with nails like a church door, was half open. The dandy hurried in; Meaulnes followed him and from his first steps in the corridor, he found himself, without seeing any one, in the midst of laughter, songs, shouts, and chases.

A passage ran across the end of the corridor. Meaulnes was hesitating whether to push on to the end or open one of the doors behind which he could hear voices, when he saw two little girls, at the end, chasing each other. He ran to see them and catch them up, moving noiselessly in his pumps. A sound of opening doors, two faces of fifteen which the freshness of the evening and the chase had made quite rosy under their poke bonnets, and everything disappeared in a sudden glare of light.

For an instant they twirled round in fun, their wide light skirts rose and bellied up; one could see the lace of their long quaint drawers; then, after this pirouette, they bounced into the room together and shut the door again.

Meaulnes remained for a moment dazed and staggering in this dark corridor. He now feared to be discovered. His clumsy and hesitating gait might lead him to be mistaken for a thief. He deliberately retraced his steps towards the front door, when again he heard a sound of steps and children’s voices at the end of the corridor. Two little boys were talking as they approached.

‘Will dinner be ready soon?’ Meaulnes asked them with assurance.

‘Come with us,’ replied the bigger of the two, ‘we’ll take you in.’

And with that ease and need of friendliness which children have before a great party, they each took hold of one of Meaulnes’ hands. Most likely they were two little peasant boys. They had been dressed in their best clothes: short knickers above the knees, which showed their thick woollen stockings and their heavy boots, a small blue velvet jacket, a cap of the same colour, and a white necktie.

‘Do _you_ know her?’ asked one of the children.

‘Me,’ said the smaller one, who had a round head and naïve eyes; ‘Mummy says that she had a black dress and a round collar and that she looked like a pretty Pierrot.’

‘Whom do you mean?’ asked Meaulnes.

‘Why! Frantz’s fiancée, whom he has gone to fetch....’

Before Meaulnes could say anything, the three of them reached the door of a large room where a big fire was burning. For table, boards had been placed on trestles; while tablecloths had been spread and people of all kinds were dining with ceremony.