“He must get some real cow-bells, a grey coat with a red waistcoat, a shepherd’s hat, and blue ribbons the color of the sky. In June our Imperial Majesty will visit La Réole, and then, on top of the charming Alp which he has built, we will make him sing the kuhreihen, so all can hear it. Is not that true, beautiful Queen?”
The merry, frivolous Queen laughed and agreed, and the King pardoned my great, great grandfather, who had been the cause of such a joyful occurrence. Then Herr Primus had an audience with Madame Blanchefleure, in order to thank her for his life.
He had proved that he was useless as a soldier. He appeared before her in the little round hat, and the peasant clothes of Appenzell. Because of her curiosity and excitement over the situation, Madame Blanchefleure had cold hands and flaming cheeks. When the pitiful, awkward, grey figure of the poor cow-herd was ushered in, her breath stopped. She had pictured to herself a powerful revolutionist and popular agitator, whose words were flame, and here came a little commonplace law-book of citizens’ rights; good, honest, quiet, a regular—“You give me that and I’ll give you this.”
Can you make a guess as to what Madame Blanchefleure did? When he entered and said to her with great sincerity: “It was good of Your Grace to turn your attention to a poor fellow like me,” she looked at his face, because his clothes and his personal appearance were so unimportant. He had our grey, keen eyes, an honest, narrow face; high temples, thin nose;
