We were both silent. Müller pulled out a small sketch-book and made a rapid study of the scene--the reach in the river; the wooded banks; the green flats traversed by long lines of stunted pollards; the church-tops and roofs of Courbevoie beyond. Presently a soft voice, singing, broke upon the silence. Müller stopped involuntarily, pencil in hand. I held my breath, and listened. The tune was flowing and sweet; and as our boat drifted on, the words of the singer became audible. "O miroir ondoyant! Je rève en te voyant Harmonie et lumière, O ma rivière, O ma belle rivière! "On voit se réfléchir Dans ses eaux les nuages; Elle semble dormir Entre les pâturages Où paissent les grands boeufs Et les grasses genisses. Au pâtres amoureux Que ses bords sont propices!" "A woman's voice," said Müller. "Dupont's words and music. She must be young and pretty ... where has she hidden herself?" The unseen singer, meanwhile, went on with another verse. "Près des iris du bord, Sous une berge haute, La carpe aux reflets d'or Où le barbeau ressaute, Les goujons font le guet, L'Ablette qui scintille Fuit le dent du brochet; Au fond rampe l'anguille! "O miroir ondoyant! Je rève en te voyant Harmonic et lumière, O ma rivière, O ma belle rivière!" "Look!" said Müller. "Do you not see them yonder--two women under the trees? By Jupiter! it's _ma tante_ and _la petite_ Marie!" Saying which, he flung himself upon his oars and began pulling vigorously towards the shore. CHAPTER XXV. THAT TERRIBLE MÜLLER. La petite Marie broke off at the sound of our oars, and blushed a becoming rose-color. "Will these ladies do us the honor of letting us row them back to Courbevoie?" said Müller, running our boat close in against the sedges, and pulling off his hat as respectfully as if they were duchesses. Mademoiselle Marie repeated the invitation to her aunt, who accepted it at once. "_Très volontiers, très volontiers, messieurs_" she said, smiling and nodding. "We have rambled out so far--so far! And I am not as young as I was forty years ago. _Ah, mon Dieu_! how my old bones ache! Give me thy hand, Marie, and thank the gentlemen for their politeness." So Mam'selle Marie helped her aunt to rise, and we steadied the boat close under the bank, at a point where the interlacing roots of a couple of sallows made a kind of natural step by means of which they could easily get down. "Oh, dear! dear! it will not turn over, will it, my dear young man? _Ciel_! I am slipping ... Ah, _Dieu, merci_!--Marie, _mon cher enfant_, pray be careful not to jump in, or you will upset us all!" And _ma tante_, somewhat tremulous from the ordeal of embarking, settled down in her place, while Müller lifted Mam'selle Marie into the boat, as if she had been a child. I then took the oars, leaving him to steer; and so we pursued our way towards Courbevoie.