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                     BIBLIOTHEQUE
                  DES CHEFS-D'OEUVRE
                       DU ROMAN
                     CONTEMPORAIN


                  _KING OF CAMARGUE_


                      JEAN AICARD


            PRINTED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY BY
          GEORGE BARRIE & SONS, PHILADELPHIA


        COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY GEORGE BARRIE & SON



                   THIS EDITION OF

                   KING OF CAMARGUE

            HAS BEEN COMPLETELY TRANSLATED
                          BY

                    GEORGE B. IVES


                  THE ETCHINGS ARE BY

                     LOUIS V. RUET


                    AND DRAWINGS BY

                      GEORGE ROUX




                    CHEFS-D'OEUVRE
                          DU
                  ROMAN CONTEMPORAIN


                      ROMANCISTS




                     THIS EDITION

             DEDICATED TO THE HONOR OF THE

                  ACADEMIE FRANCAISE

   IS LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND NUMBERED AND REGISTERED
                SETS, OF WHICH THIS IS

                      NUMBER 358




                    THE ROMANCISTS

                      JEAN AICARD

                   KING OF CAMARGUE




  [Illustration: Chapter VI

    _This woman had a way of looking at people that disconcerted
    them. You would say that a sharp, threatening flame shot from
    her eyes. It penetrated your being, searched your heart, and
    you were powerless against it._]




TO EMILE TRELAT


My Very Dear Friend:

Permit me to dedicate this book to you, whose incomparable friendship
has been to the poet, obstinate in his idealism, of hourly assistance,
a constant proof of the reality of true generosity and kindness of
heart.

                                                Jean Aicard.

    _La Garde, near Toulon, April 11, 1890._




Contents


                                                        PAGE
        I LIVETTE AND ZINZARA                              3

       II IN CAMARGUE                                     13

      III THE DROVERS                                     21

       IV THE SEDEN                                       27

        V THE LOVERS                                      39

       VI RAMPAL                                          51

      VII THE MEETING                                     57

     VIII ON THE BENCH                                    73

       IX THE PRAYER                                      83

        X THE TERRACE                                     91

       XI THE HIDING-PLACE                                99

      XII A SORCERESS                                    121

     XIII THE SNAKE-CHARMER                              143

      XIV JOUSTING                                       165

       XV MONSIEUR LE CURE'S ARCHAEOLOGY                  177

      XVI ON THE ROOF OF THE CHURCH                      205

     XVII THE OLD WOMAN                                  219

    XVIII THE BLESSED RELICS                             231

      XIX THE BRANDING                                   247

       XX THE SNARE                                      261

      XXI HERODIAS                                       279

     XXII IN THE NEST                                    291

    XXIII THE PURSUIT                                    303

     XXIV IN THE GARGATE                                 323

      XXV THE PHANTOM                                    331

          NOTES                                          345




List of Illustrations

KING OF CAMARGUE


                                                        PAGE
    RAMPAL AND THE GIPSY                           _Fronts._

    RENAUD IN THE TOILS OF THE QUEEN                      64

    LIVETTE AND RENAUD                                    88

    LIVETTE WATCHES ON THE CHURCH ROOF                   216

    THE GIPSY'S COUCH                                    312




KING OF CAMARGUE




I

LIVETTE AND ZINZARA


A shadow suddenly darkened the narrow window. Livette, who was running
hither and thither, setting the table for supper, in the lower room of
the farm-house of the Chateau d'Avignon, gave a little shriek of
terror, and looked up.

The girl had an instinctive feeling that it was neither father nor
grandmother, nor any of her dear ones, but some stranger, who sought
amusement by thus taking her by surprise.

Nor a stranger, either, for that matter,--it was hardly possible!--But
how was it that the dogs did not yelp? Ah! this Camargue is frequented
by bad people, especially at this season, toward the end of May, on
account of the festival of Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, which attracts,
like a fair, such a crowd of people, thieves and gulls, and so many
mischievous gipsies!

The figure that was leaning on the outside of the window-sill,
shutting out the light, looked to Livette like a black mass, sharply
outlined against the blue sky; but by the thick, curly hair,
surmounted by a tinsel crown, by the general contour of the bust, by
the huge ear-rings with an amulet hanging at the ends, Livette
recognized a certain gipsy woman who was universally known as the
Queen, and who, for nearly two weeks, had been suddenly appearing to
people at widely distant points on the island, always unexpectedly, as
if she rose out of the ditches or clumps of thorn-broom or the water
of the swamps, to say to the laborers, preferably the women: "Give me
this or that;" for the Queen, as a general rule, would not accept what
people chose to offer her, but only what she chose that they should
offer her.

"Give me a little oil in a bottle, Livette," said the young gipsy,
darting a dark, flashing glance at the pretty girl with the fair,
sun-flecked hair.

Livette, charitable as she was at every opportunity, at once felt that
she must be on her guard against this vagabond, who knew her name. Her
father and grandmother had gone to Arles, to see the notary, who would
soon have to be drawing up the papers for her marriage to Renaud, the
handsomest drover in all Camargue. She was alone in the house.
Distrust gave her strength to refuse.

"Our Camargue isn't an olive country," said she curtly, "oil is scarce
here. I haven't any."

"But I see some in the jar at the bottom of the cupboard, beside the
water-pitcher."

Livette turned hastily toward the cupboard. It was closed; but, in
truth, the stock of olive oil was there in a jar beside the