"Hum! I'm very much afraid myself that it's some more modern marvel. However, as we have nothing better to do, let's go and see the ruins of this château, and we can look for Frédéric there; what do you say, Monsieur Ménard?" "I agree with you perfectly, monsieur le baron; but perhaps we shall do well to carry a pâté or a chicken, for we probably shall not be able to get a dinner at the château." "You speak like the grammar, Monsieur Ménard; we will provide ourselves with supplies; it may not be very chivalrous, but it is prudent. Besides, we are travelling as amateur troubadours simply; and, however beautiful a view may be, however imposing a ruin, we belong to that class of small-minded mortals who must dine every day. Ah! Monsieur Ménard, we are not romantic! It was very lucky for us that we were not born in the days of Amadis and the four sons of Aymon." "Faith! that is true, monsieur le baron; for they didn't know how to truffle a chicken in those days, or cook _filets de sole au gratin_." Dubourg inquired the way to the valley of Grésivaudan, Monsieur Ménard filled his pockets with provisions, and our travellers set forth. They were told that it was a short three leagues to the Château de Bayard; but Ménard suggested a halt every half-hour. The baron invariably complied, and produced a bottle of the best wine he had been able to find at their inn; Ménard spread his provisions on the turf, on a large sheet of paper, and the travellers renewed their strength. When Dubourg caught sight of some tempting fruit, he would climb the tree to obtain some for dessert; and finally he cut a number of branches and, by spreading his handkerchief over them, constructed a little tent, so that they could dine in the shade. "One would hardly suspect that the man who does this is a noble palatine!" cried Ménard. "Why not, pray?" rejoined Dubourg; "the Princess Nausicaa made her own lye; Augustus's daughters spun their father's robes; Dionysius the Younger was a school teacher at Corinth; the son of Perseus, King of Macedonia, was a carpenter at Rome, as Peter the Great was in Holland; so it doesn't seem to me that I derogate from my rank by making a tent in Dauphiné." Monsieur Ménard, having nothing to reply, simply bowed, murmuring: "_Variant sententiæ._" At last, our two travellers discovered the ruins of the Château de Bayard, of which only the four towers remain standing; but they did not find Frédéric gazing in veneration upon them. "Well, do you see him, Monsieur Ménard?" said Dubourg. "The château?" "No; Frédéric." "Not yet, monsieur le baron; but let us sit down and rest; unluckily, I am afraid that this is the last halt that will refresh us much, as our provisions are near the end, and we have only a quarter of a bottle left." "We shall find plenty of springs, Monsieur Ménard." "But they won't be like those of Cana in Galilee, monsieur le baron."