There is a framed portrait of Garibaldi, a pair of gold spectacles, a set of silver, a jewel-box containing a collection of hundred-sous pieces with the effigy of Louis Philippe, arranged in the shape of a star, and many other marvels, from among which Villiers has only to choose; but, overcome by laughter, he is unable to decide. Finally, he un-hooks a necklace of corals and thrusts it in his pocket while someone fastens a commemorative medal to his hat, where it shines in the midst of a flutter of ribbons. The victor then wishes to steal away, but the circle of trombones narrows about him and urges him toward a pavilion consecrated to Bacchus, where a commissary of the Fair, mounted upon a table, solemnly holds out to him the glorious cup, full of the bitter wine of Sarli, which he (concealing a grimace of distaste) is obliged to empty with the best grace possible.
That evening at supper, Wagner was much interested in the adventure, and in order to do honour to the skilful marksman, he uncorked some champagne.
"It is excellent," he said. "My friend Chandon sent it to me."
One day my companions, having articles to write, remained at the Hôtel du Lac, and I arrived alone at Tribschen soon after the two o'clock dinner, a little fearful of having come, perhaps, too soon. The clear sky made the lake very blue and the fresh green of the banks mirrored itself as usual in the tranquil water. I disembarked at the point of the promontory by the foot of the garden, under the little shed which sheltered the wooden steps.
As there was neither door, nor doorkeeper, nor bell, I arrived without giving any signal, and, walking slowly, fearing to find my hosts still at table, I took the least direct route to the house, through a charming, very shady path which follows the edge of the lake. It grows steep very quickly, and the slope which, covered with bushes, topples down to the water, has the appearance of a picturesque little precipice, and nothing could be more lovely to see than the stains of azure made by the lake through the interlacing of the branches. The children have named this corner, where they are forbidden to go alone, for fear of the descents, "The Park of Brigands," and they tell long tales about the adventures which come to pass there after nightfall. At the moment when I came out from the shelter of the trees, the eldest of the little girls saw me and came running, signalling to me not to speak or make any noise. When she reached me, she drew me, without a word, through clumps of trees where I nearly lost my hat, toward a sort of little summer-house of verdure, very near the house, where the coffee had been served. The Master was there, seated on a cane easy-chair, smoking a cigar; Cosima, standing, peeped through the interstices of the bushes, and made me a sign to keep silent: but Wagner, looking at me fiercely, said in a low tone, "What, did you bring all these people?"