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She drew the car to a halt again, and climbed out on to the bo
The movement materialized into men and horses, the famous gardiens of the Camargue who patrolled their herds of cattle and horses as they had done for many, many years.
As they drew nearer, Dio
The St. Salvador mas, which is the Provençal name for a farm, bred Spanish bulls for the corrida, and not the smaller, less muscular beasts of the Camargue, used mainly in the course libre. On her previous visit here, Dio
But in spite of that, it was the Spanish bulls which were the most highly prized, and Manoel’s father, as the head of his household, could rightly be called a manadier, a rather grand title in this area. Certainly these finely bred cattle looked the fiercest Dio
The herd surged by, scarcely giving her a second glance, but the gardiens regarded her curiously, obviously wondering who she was and why she was here on St. Salvador land.
One of the older men reined in his horse and approached the car, taking off his wide-brimmed hat that so closely resembled that of a cowboy’s in the western states of America. Dio
‘Bonjour, mademoiselle,’ he said politely. ‘Qu’est-ce que vous voulez?’
Dio
The man frowned. ‘Le patron, mademoiselle? Il n’est pas ici.’
Dio
‘Monsieur Manoel est le patron,’ retorted the man with dignity.
Dio
But of course she could not ask such a leading question so she made a helpless gesture and said: ‘Pardon! Je ne co
The man’s frown deepened. ‘Vous êtes anglaise, mademoiselle, oui?’
Dio
The man’s lips parted in a wide grin. ‘Un peu, mademoiselle, un peu.’
Dio
The man glanced about him, turning in the heavy saddle. His eyes were the lightest blue that Dio
‘He could be anywhere, mademoiselle,’ he said at last. ‘There is much to be done at this time of the year. You wish I should tell him you await him at the mas?’
‘Oh, no.’ Dio
‘Bien sûr, mademoiselle.’ The old man inclined his head with controlled politeness, and realizing he was waiting for her to make some move to leave, Dio
But she took her foot off the clutch too tardily and in consequence the small vehicle jerked backwards, its wheels sliding on the uneven surface and causing them to skid to the side of the road and into the ditch that flanked it.
‘Damn!’ Dio
It was nothing serious, only her offside wheel was stuck in the mud, but without assistance she didn’t quite see how she was going to extract herself. She looked across at the gardien and he patted his horse and it trotted slowly over.
‘You have a rope, mademoiselle?’
Dio
The gardien climbed out of the saddle slowly. There was a passiveness about him which was in itself infuriating. It came from long hours spent out on the open marshland, communing with the earth and the sky.
‘I have a rope, mademoiselle,’ he said calmly, unwinding a length from the pommel of his saddle.
Dio
The gardien raised his brows lazily, and then bent to tie the rope to the front fender. This done, he straightened, surveying her flushed appearance. ‘The wheel, mademoiselle; you will direct it – so?’ He showed her what he wanted her to do.
‘Of course.’
Dio
Dio
The girl laughed infectiously. ‘I was fourteen, Dio
Dio
‘You – you said Grand’mère?’ she questioned, in astonishment. ‘You mean – you mean Gemma?’
‘Of course.’ Louise’s smile disappeared. ‘You surely did not intend to leave without seeing her?’
Dio