The Black Swan

“These are quite effective,” he explained. “They press the grape in the best possible way and so ensure that all the juice can be made use of.” We saw men clearing the great vats and preparing them for the harvest. “They are made of stone, you see,” said Jean Pascal. “When they have been well scrubbed, they will be put in quick lime to saturate the acid still existing in the cask.”

“It’s quite fascinating,” said Roland.

“How can we thank you, Monsieur Bourdon,” added Phillida, “for giving us such an instructive and entertaining afternoon?”

“By coming again, Miss Fitzgerald,” said Jean Pascal gallantly. We walked back to the chateau past the lake. Diable, with Ange in attendance, looked at us suspiciously as we passed.

“What beautiful swans!” cried Phillida. “And black, too. I don’t think I have ever seen a black swan before. I have seen plenty of white ones. They look so serene.” Jean Pascal looked at me and smiled. “Lucie will tell you that you cannot always judge by appearances. The cob, the male, may be beautiful to all outward appearances, but he has an evil nature. He objects to anyone encroaching on his territory. He gave Lucie a fright not long ago.”

“Yes,” I explained, “I was standing admiring him when suddenly he decided to attack me.”

“Fortunately I was at hand,” went on Jean Pascal, “and I rushed to the rescue. I beat the old devil off with a stick. I had to.”

“So ... he would have attacked you!” cried Phillida. “I should have thought he would have known you.”

“Diable-that’s our name for him: apt, don’t you think?- Diable is no respecter of persons. I told Lucie it is a lesson for her. Don’t be beguiled by beauty for you never know what lurks beneath it.”

“I think you are a cynic, Monsieur Bourdon.”

“Shall we say a realist? But Lucie will be very careful in the future. Is that not so, Lucie?”

“Certainly where the swan is concerned.”

When the guests left we all went to the stables to see them off. It had certainly been a most enjoyable afternoon.

“Pleasant people,” was Jean Pascal’s comment.

Sir Robert was invited to stay to dinner that evening, which he did. Conversation was a little less fluid than usual. The prospect of his departure hung over us. Jean Pascal said how sorry we should be. We should miss him. He replied that he would miss us all ... very, very much. His eyes were on Belinda who was unusually quiet.

“Well,” said Jean Pascal lightly, “you’ll be coming over again sometime, I expect.”

“Oh yes... yes indeed.”

I was glad when the meal was over and I retired early. Poor Belinda! I thought, although I suspected that her feelings had not been very deeply involved. She had just liked the idea of marrying a presentable young man with an even more presentable background. I lay in my bed reading and was not surprised to hear a tap on my door.

I said, “Who’s there?”

“Belinda, of course,” she said.

I unlocked the door and she came in. “I expected you to come,” I said.

She sat on my bed and she looked radiant.

“I’m engaged,” she said. “Bobby has asked me to marry him.”

“Well! Congratulations! You managed it after all.”

“What do you mean? Managed it? You are jealous, Lucie Lansdon.”

“Not in the least. Only full of admiration.”

“I’m so happy. Bobby is such a darling. He wanted to ask me before... only he was afraid it was too soon. Then he got this message. He has to go home and he didn’t like to tell me ... because he was wondering whether to ask me to marry him and was afraid I’d say no.”

“What? With a title and a handsome face and some fortune, I imagine! The man must be mad.”

“Don’t tease. It’s too important.”

“All right. So he has asked you to marry him and you have said yes please. And now all we have to do is wait for wedding bells.”

“You’ve got a sharp tongue sometimes, Lucie. No one would guess it. You look so meek.”

“I understand you too well, Belinda.”

“Well, Bobby likes me.”

“Evidently. Now tell me in detail.”

“He was very quiet after letting out at lunchtime that he was going home. He was making up his mind whether he could ask me or whether he ought to go home and then come back to France and ask me then. You see, we have known each other such a short time really.”

“True love transcends time and space,” I said.

“Shut up. It was after dinner. You’d gone off and mon pere... he’s very tactful ... he guessed that Bobby and I would want to have a talk together, so he left us ... said he had some work to do or something and would join us later. It was then that Bobby blurted out that the moment he had seen me he had known. It was sudden like that.”

“And as you had already marked him as your victim, there was nothing to prevent the course of true love running smoothly.”

“We’re so happy, Lucie. And mon pere joined us and we told him. He’s pleased. He said, ‘It seems I have only just found Belinda to lose her to another.’ Wasn’t that sweet? But he was pleased. He wants my happiness-and I suppose it will save him an expensive season and all the fuss of finding a husband for me.”

“Satisfaction all round,” I commented.