Probably they had never been so appealed to before. When my friend
had finished speaking, silence, broken only by a few half-audible
whispers, fell on the group. I began to fear that, after all, he
had been either misinformed or misunderstood, and was preparing
to help him out with an explanation to the best of my ability, when
a man sitting in the chimney-corner rose and said that, if we pleased,
he would fetch the grandsons of the original seer, who would give
us the fullest information possible on the subject of our inquiry.
This announcement was encouraging, and we assented with joy. He
left the chalet, and shortly afterwards returned with two stalwart
and intelligent-looking men of about thirty and thirty-five respectively,
accompanied by a couple of St Bernards, the most magnificent dogs I
had ever seen. I was reassured instantly, for the faces of these
two peasants were certainly not those of rogues or fools. They
advanced to the centre of the assembly, now numbering some twenty
persons, men and women, and were duly introduced to us by our host
as Theodor and Augustin Raoul. A wooden bench by the hearth was
accorded them, the great dogs couched at their feet, pipes were
lit here and there among the circle; and the scene, embellished
by the ruddy glow of the flaming pine-logs, the unfamiliar costume
of the peasantry, the quaint furniture of the chalet-kitchen in
which we sat, and enhanced by the strange circumstances of our
journey and the yet stranger story now recounted by the two Raouls,
became to my mind every moment more romantic and unworld-like.
But the intent and strained expression of St. Aubyn's features as
he bent eagerly forward, hanging as if for life or death on the
words which the brothers poured forth, reminded me that, in one
respect at least, the spectacle before me presented a painful reality,
and that for this desolate and lonely man every word of the Christmas
tale told that evening was pregnant with import of the deepest and
most serious kind. Here, in English guise, is the legend of the
Alpine seer, recounted with much gesticulation and rugged dramatic
force by his grandsons, the younger occasionally interpolating
details which the elder forgot, confirming the data, and echoing
with a sonorous interjection the exclamations of the listeners.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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