Fruit of Eden

The castle of Rochefallain stood high above the world. Alone and aloof it towered, with only wooded hills and grey crags for company. In varying seasons the scene was gilded with mimosa, sprayed with the pale pink of almond blossom, or blushed with the rosy glow of peach trees in full bloom. And in the autumn chestnut forests blazed with a wealth of red and gold, setting the landscape on fire.The castle was an ancient pile with slit windows, battlements and square towers. Pine and cork forests marched up out of the deep valleys towards it. Rather abruptly the trees stopped and gave place to great boulders and outstanding ribs of rock, in every nook and corner of which grew wild lavender, cistus, rosemary and heather. The Laurients of Rochefallain were one of the oldest families in France. They dated back to the time of the Saracens. The mountain range where their estate lay was called after these dark invaders—Chaine des Maures—and the site of their castle had once been a Moorish stronghold. A tinge of this wild blood still lingered in their veins, making them known among their kind as the “volcanic Laurients.” Greek and Roman, too, had set their stamp upon this ancient family. Romantic names from those far off days still remained, and occasionally a member cropped up who united in his person the various