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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Beleaguered City, by Mrs. Oliphant
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Beleaguered City
+       Being A Narrative of Certain Recent Events in the City of Semur, in the Department of the Haute Bourgogne. A Story of the Seen and the Unseen
+
+Author: Mrs. Oliphant
+
+Release Date: March 9, 2004 [EBook #11521]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BELEAGUERED CITY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Stan Goodman and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A BELEAGUERED CITY
+
+
+
+
+
+BEING
+
+
+
+
+
+A NARRATIVE OF CERTAIN RECENT EVENTS IN THE CITY OF SEMUR, IN THE
+DEPARTMENT OF THE HAUTE BOURGOGNE
+
+
+
+
+
+A STORY OF THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN
+
+by Mrs. Oliphant
+
+1900
+
+
+THE AUTHOR inscribes this little Book, with tender and grateful
+greetings, to those whose sympathy has supported her through many and
+long years, the kind audience of her UNKNOWN FRIENDS.
+
+
+THE NARRATIVE OF M. LE MAIRE: THE CONDITION OF THE CITY.
+
+I, Martin Dupin (de la Clairiere), had the honour of holding the office
+of Maire in the town of Semur, in the Haute Bourgogne, at the time when
+the following events occurred. It will be perceived, therefore, that no
+one could have more complete knowledge of the facts--at once from my
+official position, and from the place of eminence in the affairs of the
+district generally which my family has held for many generations--by
+what citizen-like virtues and unblemished integrity I will not be vain
+enough to specify. Nor is it necessary; for no one who knows Semur can
+be ignorant of the position held by the Dupins, from father to son. The
+estate La Clairiere has been so long in the family that we might very
+well, were we disposed, add its name to our own, as so many families in
+France do; and, indeed, I do not prevent my wife (whose prejudices I
+respect) from making this use of it upon her cards. But, for myself,
+_bourgeois_ I was born and _bourgeois_ I mean to die. My residence, like
+that of my father and grandfather, is at No. 29 in the Grande Rue,
+opposite the Cathedral, and not far from the Hospital of St. Jean. We
+inhabit the first floor, along with the _rez-de-chaussee,_ which has
+been turned into domestic offices suitable for the needs of the family.
+My mother, holding a respected place in my household, lives with us in
+the most perfect family union. My wife (_nee_ de Champfleurie) is
+everything that is calculated to render a household happy; but, alas one
+only of our two children survives to bless us. I have thought these
+details of my private circumstances necessary, to explain the following
+narrative; to which I will also add, by way of introduction, a simple
+sketch of the town itself and its general conditions before these
+remarkable events occurred.
+
+It was on a summer evening about sunset, the middle of the month of
+June, that my attention was attracted by an incident of no importance
+which occurred in the street, when I was making my way home, after an
+inspection of the young vines in my new vineyard to the left of La
+Clairiere. All were in perfectly good condition, and none of the many
+signs which point to the arrival of the insect were apparent. I had come
+back in good spirits, thinking of the prosperity which I was happy to
+believe I had merited by a conscientious performance of all my duties. I
+had little with which to blame myself: not only my wife and relations,
+but my dependants and neighbours, approved my conduct as a man; and even
+my fellow-citizens, exacting as they are, had confirmed in my favour the
+good opinion which my family had been fortunate enough to secure from
+father to son. These thoughts were in my mind as I turned the corner of
+the Grande Rue and approached my own house. At this moment the tinkle of
+a little bell warned all the bystanders of the procession which was
+about to pass, carrying the rites of the Church to some dying person.
+Some of the women, always devout, fell on their knees. I did not go so
+far as this, for I do not pretend, in these days of progress, to have
+retained the same attitude of mind as that which it is no doubt becoming
+to behold in the more devout sex; but I stood respectfully out of the
+way, and took off my hat, as good breeding alone, if nothing else,
+demanded of me. Just in front of me, however, was Jacques Richard,
+always a troublesome individual, standing doggedly, with his hat upon
+his head and his hands in his pockets, straight in the path of M. le
+Cure. There is not in all France a more obstinate fellow. He stood
+there, notwithstanding the efforts of a good woman to draw him away, and
+though I myself called to him. M. le Cure is not the man to flinch; and
+as he passed, walking as usual very quickly and straight, his soutane
+brushed against the blouse of Jacques. He gave one quick glance from
+beneath his eyebrows at the profane interruption, but he would not
+distract himself from his sacred errand at such a moment. It is a sacred
+errand when any one, be he priest or layman, carries the best he can
+give to the bedside of the dying. I said this to Jacques when M. le Cure
+had passed and the bell went tinkling on along the street. 'Jacques,'
+said I, 'I do not call it impious, like this good woman, but I call it
+inhuman. What! a man goes to carry help to the dying, and you show him
+no respect!'
+
+This brought the colour to his face; and I think, perhaps, that he might
+have become ashamed of the part he had played; but the women pushed in
+again, as they are so fond of doing. 'Oh, M. le Maire, he does not
+deserve that you should lose your words upon him!' they cried; 'and,
+besides, is it likely he will pay any attention to you when he tries to
+stop even the _bon Dieu_?'
+
+'The _bon Dieu!_' cried Jacques. 'Why doesn't He clear the way for
+himself? Look here. I do not care one farthing for your _bon Dieu_. Here
+is mine; I carry him about with me.' And he took a piece of a hundred
+sous out of his pocket (how had it got there?) '_Vive l'argent_' he
+said. 'You know it yourself, though you will not say so. There is no
+_bon Dieu_ but money. With money you can do anything. _L'argent c'est le
+bon Dieu_.'
+
+'Be silent,' I cried, 'thou profane one!' And the women were still more
+indignant than I. 'We shall see, we shall see; when he is ill and would
+give his soul for something to wet his lips, his _bon Dieu_ will not do
+much for him,' cried one; and another said, clasping her hands with a
+shrill cry, 'It is enough to make the dead rise out of their graves!'
+
+'The dead rise out of their graves!' These words, though one has heard
+them before, took possession of my imagination. I saw the rude fellow go
+along the street as I went on, tossing the coin in his hand. One time it
+fell to the ground and rang upon the pavement, and he laughed more
+loudly as he picked it up. He was walking towards the sunset, and I too,
+at a distance after. The sky was full of rose-tinted clouds floating
+across the blue, floating high over the grey pinnacles of the Cathedral,
+and filling the long open line of the Rue St. Etienne down which he was
+going. As I crossed to my own house I caught him full against the light,
+in his blue blouse, tossing the big silver piece in the air, and heard
+him laugh and shout _'Vive l'argent!_ This is the only _bon Dieu_.'
+Though there are many people who live as if this were their sentiment,
+there are few who give it such brutal expression; but some of the people
+at the corner of the street laughed too. 'Bravo, Jacques!' they cried;
+and one said, 'You are right, _mon ami_, the only god to trust in
+nowadays.' 'It is a short _credo_, M. le Maire,' said another, who
+caught my eye. He saw I was displeased, this one, and his countenance
+changed at once.
+
+'Yes, Jean Pierre,' I said, 'it is worse than short--it is brutal. I
+hope no man who respects himself will ever countenance it. It is against
+the dignity of human nature, if nothing more.'
+
+'Ah, M. le Maire!' cried a poor woman, one of the good ladies of the
+market, with entrenchments of baskets all round her, who had been
+walking my way; 'ah, M. le Maire! did not I say true? it is enough to
+bring the dead out of their graves.'
+
+'That would be something to see,' said Jean Pierre, with a laugh; 'and I
+hope, _ma bonne femme_, that if you have any interest with them, you
+will entreat these gentlemen to appear before I go away.'
+
+'I do not like such jesting,' said I. 'The dead are very dead and will
+not disturb anybody, but even the prejudices of respectable persons
+ought to be respected. A ribald like Jacques counts for nothing, but I
+did not expect this from you.'
+
+'What would you, M. le Maire?' he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+'We are made like that. I respect prejudices as you say. My wife is a
+good woman, she prays for two--but me! How can I tell that Jacques is
+not right after all? A _grosse piece_ of a hundred sous, one sees that,
+one knows what it can do--but for the other!' He thrust up one shoulder
+to his ear, and turned up the palms of his hands.
+
+'It is our duty at all times to respect the convictions of others,' I
+said, severely; and passed on to my own house, having no desire to
+encourage discussions at the street corner. A man in my position is
+obliged to be always mindful of the example he ought to set. But I had
+not yet done with this phrase, which had, as I have said, caught my ear
+and my imagination. My mother was in the great _salle_ of the
+_rez-de-chausee,_ as I passed, in altercation with a peasant who had
+just brought us in some loads of wood. There is often, it seems to me, a
+sort of _refrain_ in conversation, which one catches everywhere as one
+comes and goes. Figure my astonishment when I heard from the lips of my
+good mother the same words with which that good-for-nothing Jacques
+Richard had made the profession of his brutal faith. 'Go!' she cried, in
+anger; 'you are all the same. Money is your god. _De grosses pieces_,
+that is all you think of in these days.'
+
+'_Eh, bien,_ madame,' said the peasant; 'and if so, what then? Don't you
+others, gentlemen and ladies, do just the same? What is there in the
+world but money to think of? If it is a question of marriage, you demand
+what is the _dot_; if it is a question of office, you ask, Monsieur
+Untel, is he rich? And it is perfectly just. We know what money can do;
+but as for _le bon Dieu_, whom our grandmothers used to talk about--'
+
+And lo! our _gros paysan_ made exactly the same gesture as Jean Pierre.
+He put up his shoulders to his ears, and spread out the palms of his
+hands, as who should say, There is nothing further to be said.
+
+Then there occurred a still more remarkable repetition. My mother, as
+may be supposed, being a very respectable person, and more or less
+_devote_, grew red with indignation and horror.
+
+'Oh, these poor grandmothers!' she cried; 'God give them rest! It is
+enough to make the dead rise out of their graves.'
+
+'Oh, I will answer for _les morts_! they will give nobody any trouble,'
+he said with a laugh. I went in and reproved the man severely, finding
+that, as I supposed, he had attempted to cheat my good mother in the
+price of the wood. Fortunately she had been quite as clever as he was.
+She went upstairs shaking her head, while I gave the man to understand
+that no one should speak to her but with the profoundest respect in my
+house. 'She has her opinions, like all respectable ladies,' I said,
+'but under this roof these opinions shall always be sacred.' And, to do
+him justice, I will add that when it was put to him in this way
+Gros-Jean was ashamed of himself.
+
+When I talked over these incidents with my wife, as we gave each other
+the narrative of our day's experiences, she was greatly distressed, as
+may be supposed. 'I try to hope they are not so bad as Bonne Maman
+thinks. But oh, _mon ami!_' she said, 'what will the world come to if
+this is what they really believe?'
+
+'Take courage,' I said; 'the world will never come to anything much
+different from what it is. So long as there are _des anges_ like thee to
+pray for us, the scale will not go down to the wrong side.'
+
+I said this, of course, to please my Agnes, who is the best of wives;
+but on thinking it over after, I could not but be struck with the
+extreme justice (not to speak of the beauty of the sentiment) of this
+thought. The _bon Dieu_--if, indeed, that great Being is as represented
+to us by the Church--must naturally care as much for one-half of His
+creatures as for the other, though they have not the same weight in the
+world; and consequently the faith of the women must hold the balance
+straight, especially if, as is said, they exceed us in point of numbers.
+This leaves a little margin for those of them who profess the same
+freedom of thought as is generally accorded to men--a class, I must add,
+which I abominate from the bottom of my heart.
+
+I need not dwell upon other little scenes which impressed the same idea
+still more upon my mind. Semur, I need not say, is not the centre of the
+world, and might, therefore, be supposed likely to escape the full
+current of worldliness. We amuse ourselves little, and we have not any
+opportunity of rising to the heights of ambition; for our town is not
+even the _chef-lieu_ of the department,--though this is a subject upon
+which I cannot trust myself to speak. Figure to yourself that La
+Rochette--a place of yesterday, without either the beauty or the
+antiquity of Semur--has been chosen as the centre of affairs, the
+residence of M. le Prefet! But I will not enter upon this question. What
+I was saying was, that, notwithstanding the fact that we amuse ourselves
+but little, that there is no theatre to speak of, little society, few
+distractions, and none of those inducements to strive for gain and to
+indulge the senses, which exist, for instance, in Paris--that capital of
+the world--yet, nevertheless, the thirst for money and for pleasure has
+increased among us to an extent which I cannot but consider alarming.
+Gros-Jean, our peasant, toils for money, and hoards; Jacques, who is a
+cooper and maker of wine casks, gains and drinks; Jean Pierre snatches
+at every sous that comes in his way, and spends it in yet worse
+dissipations. He is one who quails when he meets my eye; he sins _en
+cachette_; but Jacques is bold, and defies opinion; and Gros-Jean is
+firm in the belief that to hoard money is the highest of mortal
+occupations. These three are types of what the population is at Semur.
+The men would all sell their souls for a _grosse piece_ of fifty
+sous--indeed, they would laugh, and express their delight that any one
+should believe them to love souls, if they could but have a chance of
+selling them; and the devil, who was once supposed to deal in that
+commodity, would be very welcome among us. And as for the _bon
+Dieu--pouff!_ that was an affair of the grandmothers--_le bon Dieu c'est
+l'argent_. This is their creed. I was very near the beginning of my
+official year as Maire when my attention was called to these matters as
+I have described above. A man may go on for years keeping quiet
+himself--keeping out of tumult, religious or political--and make no
+discovery of the general current of feeling; but when you are forced to
+serve your country in any official capacity, and when your eyes are
+opened to the state of affairs around you, then I allow that an
+inexperienced observer might well cry out, as my wife did, 'What will
+become of the world?' I am not prejudiced myself--unnecessary to say
+that the foolish scruples of the women do not move me. But the devotion
+of the community at large to this pursuit of gain-money without any
+grandeur, and pleasure without any refinement--that is a thing which
+cannot fail to wound all who believe in human nature. To be a
+millionaire--that, I grant, would be pleasant. A man as rich as Monte
+Christo, able to do whatever he would, with the equipage of an English
+duke, the palace of an Italian prince, the retinue of a Russian
+noble--he, indeed, might be excused if his money seemed to him a kind of
+god. But Gros-Jean, who lays up two sous at a time, and lives on black
+bread and an onion; and Jacques, whose _grosse piece_ but secures him
+the headache of a drunkard next morning--what to them could be this
+miserable deity? As for myself, however, it was my business, as Maire
+of the commune, to take as little notice as possible of the follies
+these people might say, and to hold the middle course between the
+prejudices of the respectable and the levities of the foolish. With
+this, without more, to think of, I had enough to keep all my faculties
+employed.
+
+
+THE NARRATIVE OF M. LE MAIRE CONTINUED: BEGINNING OF THE LATE REMARKABLE
+EVENTS.
+
+I do not attempt to make out any distinct connection between the simple
+incidents above recorded, and the extraordinary events that followed. I
+have related them as they happened; chiefly by way of showing the state
+of feeling in the city, and the sentiment which pervaded the
+community--a sentiment, I fear, too common in my country. I need not say
+that to encourage superstition is far from my wish. I am a man of my
+century, and proud of being so; very little disposed to yield to the
+domination of the clerical party, though desirous of showing all just
+tolerance for conscientious faith, and every respect for the prejudices
+of the ladies of my family. I am, moreover, all the more inclined to be
+careful of giving in my adhesion to any prodigy, in consequence of a
+consciousness that the faculty of imagination has always been one of my
+characteristics. It usually is so, I am aware, in superior minds, and it
+has procured me many pleasures unknown to the common herd. Had it been
+possible for me to believe that I had been misled by this faculty, I
+should have carefully refrained from putting upon record any account of
+my individual impressions; but my attitude here is not that of a man
+recording his personal experiences only, but of one who is the official
+mouthpiece and representative of the commune, and whose duty it is to
+render to government and to the human race a true narrative of the very
+wonderful facts to which every citizen of Semur can bear witness. In
+this capacity it has become my duty so to arrange and edit the different
+accounts of the mystery, as to present one coherent and trustworthy
+chronicle to the world.
+
+To proceed, however, with my narrative. It is not necessary for me to
+describe what summer is in the Haute Bourgogne. Our generous wines, our
+glorious fruits, are sufficient proof, without any assertion on my part.
+The summer with us is as a perpetual _fete_--at least, before the insect
+appeared it was so, though now anxiety about the condition of our vines
+may cloud our enjoyment of the glorious sunshine which ripens them
+hourly before our eyes. Judge, then, of the astonishment of the world
+when there suddenly came upon us a darkness as in the depth of winter,
+falling, without warning, into the midst of the brilliant weather to
+which we are accustomed, and which had never failed us before in the
+memory of man! It was the month of July, when, in ordinary seasons, a
+cloud is so rare that it is a joy to see one, merely as a variety upon
+the brightness. Suddenly, in the midst of our summer delights, this
+darkness came. Its first appearance took us so entirely by surprise that
+life seemed to stop short, and the business of the whole town was
+delayed by an hour or two; nobody being able to believe that at six
+o'clock in the morning the sun had not risen. I do not assert that the
+sun did not rise; all I mean to say is that at Semur it was still dark,
+as in a morning of winter, and when it gradually and slowly became day
+many hours of the morning were already spent. And never shall I forget
+the aspect of day when it came. It was like a ghost or pale shadow of
+the glorious days of July with which we are usually blessed. The
+barometer did not go down, nor was there any rain, but an unusual
+greyness wrapped earth and sky. I heard people say in the streets, and I
+am aware that the same words came to my own lips: 'If it were not full
+summer, I should say it was going to snow.' We have much snow in the
+Haute Bourgogne, and we are well acquainted with this aspect of the
+skies. Of the depressing effect which this greyness exercised upon
+myself personally, greyness exercised upon myself personally, I will not
+speak. I have always been noted as a man of fine perceptions, and I was
+aware instinctively that such a state of the atmosphere must mean
+something more than was apparent on the surface. But, as the danger was
+of an entirely unprecedented character, it is not to be wondered at that
+I should be completely at a loss to divine what its meaning was. It was
+a blight some people said; and many were of opinion that it was caused
+by clouds of animalculae coming, as is described in ancient writings, to
+destroy the crops, and even to affect the health of the population. The
+doctors scoffed at this; but they talked about malaria, which, as far as
+I could understand, was likely to produce exactly the same effect. The
+night closed in early as the day had dawned late; the lamps were lighted
+before six o'clock, and daylight had only begun about ten! Figure to
+yourself, a July day! There ought to have been a moon almost at the
+full; but no moon was visible, no stars--nothing but a grey veil of
+clouds, growing darker and darker as the moments went on; such I have
+heard are the days and the nights in England, where the seafogs so often
+blot out the sky. But we are unacquainted with anything of the kind in
+our _plaisant pays de France_. There was nothing else talked of in Semur
+all that night, as may well be imagined. My own mind was extremely
+uneasy. Do what I would, I could not deliver myself from a sense of
+something dreadful in the air which was neither malaria nor animalculae,
+I took a promenade through the streets that evening, accompanied by M.
+Barbou, my _adjoint_, to make sure that all was safe; and the darkness
+was such that we almost lost our way, though we were both born in the
+town and had known every turning from our boyhood. It cannot be denied
+that Semur is very badly lighted. We retain still the lanterns slung by
+cords across the streets which once were general in France, but which,
+in most places, have been superseded by the modern institution of gas.
+Gladly would I have distinguished my term of office by bringing gas to
+Semur. But the expense would have been great, and there were a hundred
+objections. In summer generally, the lanterns were of little consequence
+because of the brightness of the sky; but to see them now, twinkling
+dimly here and there, making us conscious how dark it was, was strange
+indeed. It was in the interests of order that we took our round, with a
+fear, in my mind at least, of I knew not what. M. l'Adjoint said
+nothing, but no doubt he thought as I did.
+
+While we were thus patrolling the city with a special eye to the
+prevention of all seditious assemblages, such as are too apt to take
+advantage of any circumstances that may disturb the ordinary life of a
+city, or throw discredit on its magistrates, we were accosted by Paul
+Lecamus, a man whom I have always considered as something of a
+visionary, though his conduct is irreproachable, and his life
+honourable and industrious. He entertains religious convictions of a
+curious kind; but, as the man is quite free from revolutionary
+sentiments, I have never considered it to be my duty to interfere with
+him, or to investigate his creed. Indeed, he has been treated generally
+in Semur as a dreamer of dreams--one who holds a great many
+impracticable and foolish opinions--though the respect which I always
+exact for those whose lives are respectable and worthy has been a
+protection to hire. He was, I think, aware that he owed something to my
+good offices, and it was to me accordingly that he addressed himself.
+
+'Good evening, M. le Maire,' he said; 'you are groping about, like
+myself, in this strange night.'
+
+'Good evening M. Paul,' I replied. 'It is, indeed, a strange night. It
+indicates, I fear, that a storm is coming.'
+
+M. Paul shook his head. There is a solemnity about even his ordinary
+appearance. He has a long face, pale, and adorned with a heavy, drooping
+moustache, which adds much to the solemn impression made by his
+countenance. He looked at me with great gravity as he stood in the
+shadow of the lamp, and slowly shook his head.
+
+'You do not agree with me? Well! the opinion of a man like M. Paul
+Lecamus is always worthy to be heard.'
+
+'Oh!' he said, 'I am called visionary. I am not supposed to be a
+trustworthy witness. Nevertheless, if M. Le Maire will come with me, I
+will show him something that is very strange--something that is almost
+more wonderful than the darkness--more strange,' he went on with great
+earnestness, 'than any storm that ever ravaged Burgundy.'
+
+'That is much to say. A tempest now when the vines are in full
+bearing--'
+
+'Would be nothing, nothing to what I can show you. Only come with me to
+the Porte St. Lambert.'
+
+'If M. le Maire will excuse me,' said M. Barbou, 'I think I will go
+home. It is a little cold, and you are aware that I am always afraid of
+the damp.' In fact, our coats were beaded with a cold dew as in
+November, and I could not but acknowledge that my respectable colleague
+had reason. Besides, we were close to his house, and he had, no doubt,
+the sustaining consciousness of having done everything that was really
+incumbent upon him. 'Our ways lie together as far as my house,' he said,
+with a slight chattering of his teeth. No doubt it was the cold. After
+we had walked with him to his door, we proceeded to the Porte St.
+Lambert. By this time almost everybody had re-entered their houses. The
+streets were very dark, and they were also very still. When we reached
+the gates, at that hour of the night, we found them shut as a matter of
+course. The officers of the _octroi_ were standing close together at the
+door of their office, in which the lamp was burning. The very lamp
+seemed oppressed by the heavy air; it burnt dully, surrounded with a
+yellow haze. The men had the appearance of suffering greatly from cold.
+They received me with a satisfaction which was very gratifying to me.
+'At length here is M. le Maire himself,' they said.
+
+'My good friends,' said I, 'you have a cold post to-night. The weather
+has changed in the most extraordinary way. I have no doubt the
+scientific gentlemen at the Musee will be able to tell us all about
+it--M. de Clairon--'
+
+'Not to interrupt M. le Maire,' said Riou, of the _octroi_, 'I think
+there is more in it than any scientific gentleman can explain.'
+
+'Ah! You think so. But they explain everything,' I said, with a smile.
+'They tell us how the wind is going to blow.'
+
+As I said this, there seemed to pass us, from the direction of the
+closed gates, a breath of air so cold that I could not restrain a
+shiver. They looked at each other. It was not a smile that passed
+between them--they were too pale, too cold, to smile but a look of
+intelligence. 'M. le Maire,' said one of them, 'perceives it too;' but
+they did not shiver as I did. They were like men turned into ice who
+could feel no more.
+
+'It is, without doubt, the most extraordinary weather,' I said. My teeth
+chattered like Barbou's. It was all I could do to keep myself steady. No
+one made any reply; but Lecamus said, 'Have the goodness to open the
+little postern for foot-passengers: M. le Maire wishes to make an
+inspection outside.'
+
+Upon these words, Riou, who knew me well, caught me by the arm. 'A
+thousand pardons,' he said, 'M. le Maire; but I entreat you, do not go.
+Who can tell what is outside? Since this morning there is something very
+strange on the other side of the gates. If M. le Maire would listen to
+me, he would keep them shut night and day till _that_ is gone, he would
+not go out into the midst of it. _Mon Dieu!_ a man may be brave. I know
+the courage of M. le Maire; but to march without necessity into the
+jaws of hell: _mon Dieu!_' cried the poor man again. He crossed himself,
+and none of us smiled. Now a man may sign himself at the church
+door--one does so out of respect; but to use that ceremony for one's own
+advantage, before other men, is rare--except in the case of members of a
+very decided party. Riou was not one of these. He signed himself in
+sight of us all, and not one of us smiled.
+
+The other was less familiar--he knew me only in my public capacity--he
+was one Gallais of the Quartier St. Medon. He said, taking off his hat:
+'If I were M. le Maire, saving your respect, I would not go out into an
+unknown danger with this man here, a man who is known as a pietist, as a
+clerical, as one who sees visions--'
+
+'He is not a clerical, he is a good citizen,' I said; 'come, lend us
+your lantern. Shall I shrink from my duty wherever it leads me? Nay, my
+good friends, the Maire of a French commune fears neither man nor devil
+in the exercise of his duty. M. Paul, lead on.' When I said the word
+'devil' a spasm of alarm passed over Riou's face. He crossed himself
+again. This time I could not but smile. 'My little Riou,' I said, 'do
+you know that you are a little imbecile with your piety? There is a time
+for everything.'
+
+'Except religion, M. le Maire; that is never out of place,' said
+Gallais.
+
+I could not believe my senses. 'Is it a conversion?' I said. 'Some of
+our Carmes dechausses must have passed this way.'
+
+'M. le Maire will soon see other teachers more wonderful than the Carmes
+dechausses,' said Lecamus. He went and took down the lantern from its
+nail, and opened the little door. When it opened, I was once more
+penetrated by the same icy breath; once, twice, thrice, I cannot tell
+how many times this crossed me, as if some one passed. I looked round
+upon the others--I gave way a step. I could not help it. In spite of me,
+the hair seemed to rise erect on my head. The two officers stood close
+together, and Riou, collecting his courage, made an attempt to laugh.
+'M. le Maire perceives,' he said, his lips trembling almost too much to
+form the words, 'that the winds are walking about.' 'Hush, for God's
+sake!' said the other, grasping him by the arm.
+
+This recalled me to myself; and I followed Lecamus, who stood waiting
+for me holding the door a little ajar. He went on strangely, like--I can
+use no other words to express it--a man making his way in the face of a
+crowd, a thing very surprising to me. I followed him close; but the
+moment I emerged from the doorway something caught my breath. The same
+feeling seized me also. I gasped; a sense of suffocation came upon me; I
+put out my hand to lay hold upon my guide. The solid grasp I got of his
+arm re-assured me a little, and he did not hesitate, but pushed his way
+on. We got out clear of the gate and the shadow of the wall, keeping
+close to the little watch-tower on the west side. Then he made a pause,
+and so did I. We stood against the tower and looked out before us. There
+was nothing there. The darkness was great, yet through the gloom of the
+night I could see the division of the road from the broken ground on
+either side; there was nothing there. I gasped, and drew myself up close
+against the wall, as Lecamus had also done. There was in the air, in the
+night, a sensation the most strange I have ever experienced. I have felt
+the same thing indeed at other times, in face of a great crowd, when
+thousands of people were moving, rustling, struggling, breathing around
+me, thronging all the vacant space, filling up every spot. This was the
+sensation that overwhelmed me here--a crowd: yet nothing to be seen but
+the darkness, the indistinct line of the road. We could not move for
+them, so close were they round us. What do I say? There was
+nobody--nothing--not a form to be seen, not a face but his and mine. I
+am obliged to confess that the moment was to me an awful moment. I
+could not speak. My heart beat wildly as if trying to escape from my
+breast--every breath I drew was with an effort. I clung to Lecamus with
+deadly and helpless terror, and forced myself back upon the wall,
+crouching against it; I did not turn and fly, as would have been
+natural. What say I? _did_ not! I _could_ not! they pressed round us so.
+Ah! you would think I must be mad to use such words, for there was
+nobody near me--not a shadow even upon the road.
+
+Lecamus would have gone farther on; he would have pressed his way boldly
+into the midst; but my courage was not equal to this. I clutched and
+clung to him, dragging myself along against the wall, my whole mind
+intent upon getting back. I was stronger than he, and he had no power to
+resist me. I turned back, stumbling blindly, keeping my face to that
+crowd (there was no one), but struggling back again, tearing the skin
+off my hands as I groped my way along the wall. Oh, the agony of seeing
+the door closed! I have buffeted my way through a crowd before now, but
+I may say that I never before knew what terror was. When I fell upon the
+door, dragging Lecamus with me, it opened, thank God! I stumbled in,
+clutching at Riou with my disengaged hand, and fell upon the floor of
+the _octroi_, where they thought I had fainted. But this was not the
+case. A man of resolution may give way to the overpowering sensations of
+the moment. His bodily faculties may fail him; but his mind will not
+fail. As in every really superior intelligence, my forces collected for
+the emergency. While the officers ran to bring me water, to search for
+the eau-de vie which they had in a cupboard, I astonished them all by
+rising up, pale, but with full command of myself. 'It is enough,' I
+said, raising my hand. 'I thank you, Messieurs, but nothing more is
+necessary;' and I would not take any of their restoratives. They were
+impressed, as was only natural, by the sight of my perfect
+self-possession: it helped them to acquire for themselves a demeanour
+befitting the occasion; and I felt, though still in great physical
+weakness and agitation, the consoling consciousness of having fulfilled
+my functions as head of the community.
+
+'M. le Maire has seen a----what there is outside?' Riou cried,
+stammering in his excitement; and the other fixed upon me eyes which
+were hungering with eagerness--if, indeed, it is permitted to use such
+words.
+
+'I have seen--nothing, Riou,' I said.
+
+They looked at me with the utmost wonder. 'M. le Maire has
+seen--nothing?' said Riou. 'Ah, I see! you say so to spare us. We have
+proved ourselves cowards; but if you will pardon me, M. le Maire, you,
+too, re-entered precipitately--you too! There are facts which may appal
+the bravest--but I implore you to tell us what you have seen.'
+
+'I have seen nothing,' I said. As I spoke, my natural calm composure
+returned, my heart resumed its usual tranquil beating. 'There is nothing
+to be seen--it is dark, and one can perceive the line of the road for
+but a little way--that is all. There is nothing to be seen----'
+
+They looked at me, startled and incredulous. They did not know what to
+think. How could they refuse to believe me, sitting there calmly raising
+my eyes to them, making my statement with what they felt to be an air of
+perfect truth? But, then, how account for the precipitate return which
+they had already noted, the supposed faint, the pallor of my looks? They
+did not know what to think.
+
+And here, let me remark, as in my conduct throughout these remarkable
+events, may be seen the benefit, the high advantage, of truth. Had not
+this been the truth, I could not have borne the searching of their
+looks. But it was true. There was nothing--nothing to be seen; in one
+sense, this was the thing of all others which overwhelmed my mind. But
+why insist upon these matters of detail to unenlightened men? There was
+nothing, and I had seen nothing. What I said was the truth.
+
+All this time Lecamus had said nothing. As I raised myself from the
+ground, I had vaguely perceived him hanging up the lantern where it had
+been before; now he became distinct to me as I recovered the full
+possession of my faculties. He had seated himself upon a bench by the
+wall. There was no agitation about him; no sign of the thrill of
+departing excitement, which I felt going through my veins as through the
+strings of a harp. He was sitting against the wall, with his head
+drooping, his eyes cast down, an air of disappointment and despondency
+about him--nothing more. I got up as soon as I felt that I could go away
+with perfect propriety; but, before I left the place, called him. He got
+up when he heard his name, but he did it with reluctance. He came with
+me because I asked him to do so, not from any wish of his own. Very
+different were the feelings of Riou and Gallais. They did their utmost
+to engage me in conversation, to consult me about a hundred trifles, to
+ask me with the greatest deference what they ought to do in such and
+such cases, pressing close to me, trying every expedient to delay my
+departure. When we went away they stood at the door of their little
+office close together, looking after us with looks which I found it
+difficult to forget; they would not abandon their post; but their faces
+were pale and contracted, their eyes wild with anxiety and distress.
+
+It was only as I walked away, hearing my own steps and those of Lecamus
+ringing upon the pavement, that I began to realise what had happened.
+The effort of recovering my composure, the relief from the extreme
+excitement of terror (which, dreadful as the idea is, I am obliged to
+confess I had actually felt), the sudden influx of life and strength to
+my brain, had pushed away for the moment the recollection of what lay
+outside. When I thought of it again, the blood began once more to course
+in my veins. Lecamus went on by my side with his head down, the eyelids
+drooping over his eyes, not saying a word. He followed me when I called
+him: but cast a regretful look at the postern by which we had gone out,
+through which I had dragged him back in a panic (I confess it) unworthy
+of me. Only when we had left at some distance behind us that door into
+the unseen, did my senses come fully back to me, and I ventured to ask
+myself what it meant. 'Lecamus,' I said--I could scarcely put my
+question into words--'what do you think? what is your idea?--how do you
+explain--' Even then I am glad to think I had sufficient power of
+control not to betray all that I felt.
+
+'One does not try to explain,' he said slowly; 'one longs to know--that
+is all. If M. le Maire had not been--in such haste--had he been willing
+to go farther--to investigate----'
+
+'God forbid!' I said; and the impulse to quicken my steps, to get home
+and put myself in safety, was almost more than I could restrain. But I
+forced myself to go quietly, to measure my steps by his, which were slow
+and reluctant, as if he dragged himself away with difficulty from that
+which was behind.
+
+What was it? 'Do not ask, do not ask!' Nature seemed to say in my heart.
+Thoughts came into my mind in such a dizzy crowd, that the multitude of
+them seemed to take away my senses. I put up my hands to my ears, in
+which they seemed to be buzzing and rustling like bees, to stop the
+sound. When I did so, Lecamus turned and looked at me--grave and
+wondering. This recalled me to a sense of my weakness. But how I got
+home I can scarcely say. My mother and wife met me with anxiety. They
+were greatly disturbed about the hospital of St. Jean, in respect to
+which it had been recently decided that certain changes should be made.
+The great ward of the hospital, which was the chief establishment for
+the patients--a thing which some had complained of as an annoyance
+disturbing their rest. So many, indeed, had been the complaints
+received, that we had come to the conclusion either that the opening
+should be built up, or the office suspended. Against this decision, it
+is needless to say, the Sisters of St. Jean were moving heaven and
+earth. Equally unnecessary for me to add, that having so decided in my
+public capacity, as at once the representative of popular opinion and
+its guide, the covert reproaches which were breathed in my presence, and
+even the personal appeals made to me, had failed of any result. I
+respect the Sisters of St. Jean. They are good women and excellent
+nurses, and the commune owes them much. Still, justice must be
+impartial; and so long as I retain my position at the head of the
+community, it is my duty to see that all have their due. My opinions as
+a private individual, were I allowed to return to that humble position,
+are entirely a different matter; but this is a thing which ladies,
+however excellent, are slow to allow or to understand.
+
+I will not pretend that this was to me a night of rest. In the darkness,
+when all is still, any anxiety which may afflict the soul is apt to gain
+complete possession and mastery, as all who have had true experience of
+life will understand. The night was very dark and very still, the clocks
+striking out the hours which went so slowly, and not another sound
+audible. The streets of Semur are always quiet, but they were more still
+than usual that night. Now and then, in a pause of my thoughts, I could
+hear the soft breathing of my Agnes in the adjoining room, which gave me
+a little comfort. But this was only by intervals, when I was able to
+escape from the grasp of the recollections that held me fast. Again I
+seemed to see under my closed eyelids the faint line of the high road
+which led from the Porte St. Lambert, the broken ground with its ragged
+bushes on either side, and no one--no one there--not a soul, not a
+shadow: yet a multitude! When I allowed myself to think of this, my
+heart leaped into my throat again, my blood ran in my veins like a river
+in flood. I need not say that I resisted this transport of the nerves
+with all my might. As the night grew slowly into morning my power of
+resistance increased; I turned my back, so to speak, upon my
+recollections, and said to myself, with growing firmness, that all
+sensations of the body must have their origin in the body. Some
+derangement of the system easily explainable, no doubt, if one but held
+the clue--must have produced the impression which otherwise it would be
+impossible to explain. As I turned this over and over in my mind,
+carefully avoiding all temptations to excitement--which is the only
+wise course in the case of a strong impression on the nerves--I
+gradually became able to believe that this was the cause. It is one of
+the penalties, I said to myself, which one has to pay for an
+organisation more finely tempered than that of the crowd.
+
+This long struggle with myself made the night less tedious, though,
+perhaps, more terrible; and when at length I was overpowered by sleep,
+the short interval of unconsciousness restored me like a cordial. I woke
+in the early morning, feeling almost able to smile at the terrors of the
+night. When one can assure oneself that the day has really begun, even
+while it is yet dark, there is a change of sensation, an increase of
+strength and courage. One by one the dark hours went on. I heard them
+pealing from the Cathedral clock--four, five, six, seven--all dark,
+dark. I had got up and dressed before the last, but found no one else
+awake when I went out--no one stirring in the house,--no one moving in
+the street. The Cathedral doors were shut fast, a thing I have never
+seen before since I remember. Get up early who will, Pere Laserques the
+sacristan is always up still earlier. He is a good old man, and I have
+often heard him say God's house should be open first of all houses, in
+case there might be any miserable ones about who had found no shelter in
+the dwellings of men. But the darkness had cheated even Pere Laserques.
+To see those great doors closed which stood always open gave me a
+shiver, I cannot well tell why. Had they been open, there was an
+inclination in my mind to have gone in, though I cannot tell why; for I
+am not in the habit of attending mass, save on Sunday to set an example.
+There were no shops open, not a sound about. I went out upon the
+ramparts to the Mont St. Lambert, where the band plays on Sundays. In
+all the trees there was not so much as the twitter of a bird. I could
+hear the river flowing swiftly below the wall, but I could not see it,
+except as something dark, a ravine of gloom below, and beyond the walls
+I did not venture to look. Why should I look? There was nothing,
+nothing, as I knew. But fancy is so uncontrollable, and one's nerves so
+little to be trusted, that it was a wise precaution to refrain. The
+gloom itself was oppressive enough; the air seemed to creep with
+apprehensions, and from time to time my heart fluttered with a sick
+movement, as if it would escape from my control. But everything was
+still, still as the dead who had been so often in recent days called out
+of their graves by one or another. 'Enough to bring the dead out of
+their graves.' What strange words to make use of! It was rather now as
+if the world had become a grave in which we, though living, were held
+fast.
+
+Soon after this the dark world began to lighten faintly, and with the
+rising of a little white mist, like a veil rolling upwards, I at last
+saw the river and the fields beyond. To see anything at all lightened
+my heart a little, and I turned homeward when this faint daylight
+appeared. When I got back into the street, I found that the people at
+last were stirring. They had all a look of half panic, half shame upon
+their faces. Many were yawning and stretching themselves. 'Good morning,
+M. le Maire,' said one and another; 'you are early astir.' 'Not so early
+either,' I said; and then they added, almost every individual, with a
+look of shame, 'We were so late this morning; we overslept
+ourselves--like yesterday. The weather is extraordinary.' This was
+repeated to me by all kinds of people. They were half frightened, and
+they were ashamed. Pere Laserques was sitting moaning on the Cathedral
+steps. Such a thing had never happened before. He had not rung the bell
+for early mass; he had not opened the Cathedral; he had not called M. le
+Cure. 'I think I must be going out of my senses,' he said; 'but then, M.
+le Maire, the weather! Did anyone ever see such weather? I think there
+must be some evil brewing. It is not for nothing that the seasons
+change--that winter comes in the midst of summer.'
+
+After this I went home. My mother came running to one door when I
+entered, and my wife to another. '_O mon fils!_' and '_O mon ami!_' they
+said, rushing upon me. They wept, these dear women. I could not at first
+prevail upon them to tell me what was the matter. At last they confessed
+that they believed something to have happened to me, in punishment for
+the wrong done to the Sisters at the hospital. 'Make haste, my son, to
+amend this error,' my mother cried, 'lest a worse thing befall us!' And
+then I discovered that among the women, and among many of the poor
+people, it had come to be believed that the darkness was a curse upon us
+for what we had done in respect to the hospital. This roused me to
+indignation. 'If they think I am to be driven from my duty by their
+magic,' I cried; 'it is no better than witchcraft!' not that I believed
+for a moment that it was they who had done it. My wife wept, and my
+mother became angry with me; but when a thing is duty, it is neither
+wife nor mother who will move me out of my way.
+
+It was a miserable day. There was not light enough to see
+anything--scarcely to see each other's faces; and to add to our alarm,
+some travellers arriving by the diligence (we are still three leagues
+from a railway, while that miserable little place, La Rochette, being
+the _chef-lieu,_ has a terminus) informed me that the darkness only
+existed in Semur and the neighbourhood, and that within a distance of
+three miles the sun was shining. The sun was shining! was it possible?
+it seemed so long since we had seen the sunshine; but this made our
+calamity more mysterious and more terrible. The people began to gather
+into little knots in the streets to talk of the strange thing that was
+happening In the course of the day M. Barbou came to ask whether I did
+not think it would be well to appease the popular feeling by conceding
+what they wished to the Sisters of the hospital. I would not hear of it.
+'Shall we own that we are in the wrong? I do not think we are in the
+wrong,' I said, and I would not yield. 'Do you think the good Sisters
+have it in their power to darken the sky with their incantations?' M.
+l'Adjoint shook his head. He went away with a troubled countenance; but
+then he was not like myself, a man of natural firmness. All the efforts
+that were employed to influence him were also employed with me; but to
+yield to the women was not in my thoughts.
+
+We are now approaching, however, the first important incident in this
+narrative. The darkness increased as the afternoon came on; and it
+became a kind of thick twilight, no lighter than many a night. It was
+between five and six o'clock, just the time when our streets are the
+most crowded, when, sitting at my window, from which I kept a watch
+upon the Grande Rue, not knowing what might happen--I saw that some
+fresh incident had taken place. Very dimly through the darkness I
+perceived a crowd, which increased every moment, in front of the
+Cathedral. After watching it for a few minutes, I got my hat and went
+out. The people whom I saw--so many that they covered the whole middle
+of the _Place_, reaching almost to the pavement on the other side--had
+their heads all turned towards the Cathedral. 'What are you gazing at,
+my friend?' I said to one by whom I stood. He looked up at me with a
+face which looked ghastly in the gloom. 'Look, M. le Maire!' he said;
+'cannot you see it on the great door?'
+
+'I see nothing,' said I; but as I uttered these words I did indeed see
+something which was very startling. Looking towards the great door of
+the Cathedral, as they all were doing, it suddenly seemed to me that I
+saw an illuminated placard attached to it, headed with the word
+'_Sommation_' in gigantic letters. '_Tiens!_' I cried; but when I
+looked again there was nothing. 'What is this? it is some witchcraft!' I
+said, in spite of myself. 'Do you see anything, Jean Pierre?'
+
+'M. le Maire,' he said, 'one moment one sees something--the next, one
+sees nothing. Look! it comes again.' I have always considered myself a
+man of courage, but when I saw this extraordinary appearance the panic
+which had seized upon me the former night returned, though in another
+form. Fly I could not, but I will not deny that my knees smote together.
+I stood for some minutes without being able to articulate a word--which,
+indeed, seemed the case with most of those before me. Never have I seen
+a more quiet crowd. They were all gazing, as if it was life or death
+that was set before them--while I, too, gazed with a shiver going over
+me. It was as I have seen an illumination of lamps in a stormy night;
+one moment the whole seems black as the wind sweeps over it, the next
+it springs into life again; and thus you go on, by turns losing and
+discovering the device formed by the lights. Thus from moment to moment
+there appeared before us, in letters that seemed to blaze and flicker,
+something that looked like a great official placard.
+'_Sommation!_'--this was how it was headed. I read a few words at a
+time, as it came and went; and who can describe the chill that ran
+through my veins as I made it out? It was a summons to the people of
+Semur by name--myself at the head as Maire (and I heard afterwards that
+every man who saw it saw his own name, though the whole _facade_ of the
+Cathedral would not have held a full list of all the people of
+Semur)--to yield their places, which they had not filled aright, to
+those who knew the meaning of life, being dead. NOUS AUTRES MORTS--these
+were the words which blazed out oftenest of all, so that every one saw
+them. And 'Go!' this terrible placard said--'Go! leave this place to us
+who know the true signification of life.' These words I remember, but
+not the rest; and even at this moment it struck me that there was no
+explanation, nothing but this _vraie signification de la vie._ I felt
+like one in a dream: the light coming and going before me; one word,
+then another, appearing--sometimes a phrase like that I have quoted,
+blazing out, then dropping into darkness. For the moment I was struck
+dumb; but then it came back to my mind that I had an example to give,
+and that for me, eminently a man of my century, to yield credence to a
+miracle was something not to be thought of. Also I knew the necessity of
+doing something to break the impression of awe and terror on the mind of
+the people. 'This is a trick,' I cried loudly, that all might hear. 'Let
+some one go and fetch M. de Clairon from the Musee. He will tell us how
+it has been done.' This, boldly uttered, broke the spell. A number of
+pale faces gathered round me. 'Here is M. le Maire--he will clear it
+up,' they cried, making room for me that I might approach nearer. 'M.
+le Maire is a man of courage--he has judgment. Listen to M. le Maire.'
+It was a relief to everybody that I had spoken. And soon I found myself
+by the side of M. le Cure, who was standing among the rest, saying
+nothing, and with the air of one as much bewildered as any of us. He
+gave me one quick look from under his eyebrows to see who it was that
+approached him, as was his way, and made room for me, but said nothing.
+I was in too much emotion myself to keep silence--indeed, I was in that
+condition of wonder, alarm, and nervous excitement, that I had to speak
+or die; and there seemed an escape from something too terrible for flesh
+and blood to contemplate in the idea that there was trickery here. 'M.
+le Cure,' I said, 'this is a strange ornament that you have placed on
+the front of your church. You are standing here to enjoy the effect. Now
+that you have seen how successful it has been, will not you tell me in
+confidence how it is done?'
+
+I am conscious that there was a sneer in my voice, but I was too much
+excited to think of politeness. He gave me another of his rapid, keen
+looks.
+
+'M. le Maire,' he said, 'you are injurious to a man who is as little
+fond of tricks as yourself.'
+
+His tone, his glance, gave me a certain sense of shame, but I could not
+stop myself. 'One knows,' I said, 'that there are many things which an
+ecclesiastic may do without harm, which are not permitted to an ordinary
+layman--one who is an honest man, and no more.'
+
+M. le Cure made no reply. He gave me another of his quick glances, with
+an impatient turn of his head. Why should I have suspected him? for no
+harm was known of him. He was the Cure, that was all; and perhaps we men
+of the world have our prejudices too. Afterwards, however, as we waited
+for M. de Clairon--for the crisis was too exciting for personal
+resentment--M. le Cure himself let drop something which made it apparent
+that it was the ladies of the hospital upon whom his suspicions fell.
+'It is never well to offend women, M. le Maire,' he said. 'Women do not
+discriminate the lawful from the unlawful: so long as they produce an
+effect, it does not matter to them.' This gave me a strange impression,
+for it seemed to me that M. le Cure was abandoning his own side.
+However, all other sentiments were, as may be imagined, but as shadows
+compared with the overwhelming power that held all our eyes and our
+thoughts to the wonder before us. Every moment seemed an hour till M. de
+Clairon appeared. He was pushed forward through the crowd as by magic,
+all making room for him; and many of us thought that when science thus
+came forward capable of finding out everything, the miracle would
+disappear. But instead of this it seemed to glow brighter than ever.
+That great word '_Sommation_' blazed out, so that we saw his figure
+waver against the light as if giving way before the flames that
+scorched him. He was so near that his outline was marked out dark
+against the glare they gave. It was as though his close approach
+rekindled every light. Then, with a flicker and trembling, word by word
+and letter by letter went slowly out before our eyes.
+
+M. de Clairon came down very pale, but with a sort of smile on his face.
+'No, M. le Maire,' he said, 'I cannot see how it is done. It is clever.
+I will examine the door further, and try the panels. Yes, I have left
+some one to watch that nothing is touched in the meantime, with the
+permission of M. le Cure--'
+
+'You have my full permission,' M. le Cure said; and M. de Clairon
+laughed, though he was still very pale. 'You saw my name there,' he
+said. 'I am amused--I who am not one of your worthy citizens, M. le
+Maire. What can Messieurs les Morts of Semur want with a poor man of
+science like me? But you shall have my report before the evening is
+out.'
+
+With this I had to be content. The darkness which succeeded to that
+strange light seemed more terrible than ever. We all stumbled as we
+turned to go away, dazzled by it, and stricken dumb, though some kept
+saying that it was a trick, and some murmured exclamations with voices
+full of terror. The sound of the crowd breaking up was like a regiment
+marching--all the world had been there. I was thankful, however, that
+neither my mother nor my wife had seen anything; and though they were
+anxious to know why I was so serious, I succeeded fortunately in keeping
+the secret from them.
+
+M. de Clairon did not appear till late, and then he confessed to me he
+could make nothing of it. 'If it is a trick (as of course it must be),
+it has been most cleverly done,' he said; and admitted that he was
+baffled altogether. For my part, I was not surprised. Had it been the
+Sisters of the hospital, as M. le Cure thought, would they have let the
+opportunity pass of preaching a sermon to us, and recommending their
+doctrines? Not so; here there were no doctrines, nothing but that
+pregnant phrase, _la vraie signification de la vie_. This made a more
+deep impression upon me than anything else. The Holy Mother herself
+(whom I wish to speak of with profound respect), and the saints, and the
+forgiveness of sins, would have all been there had it been the Sisters,
+or even M. le Cure. This, though I had myself suggested an imposture,
+made it very unlikely to my quiet thoughts. But if not an imposture,
+what could it be supposed to be?
+
+
+EXPULSION OF THE INHABITANTS.
+
+I will not attempt to give any detailed account of the state of the town
+during this evening. For myself I was utterly worn out, and went to rest
+as soon as M. de Clairon left me, having satisfied, as well as I could,
+the questions of the women. Even in the intensest excitement weary
+nature will claim her dues. I slept. I can even remember the grateful
+sense of being able to put all anxieties and perplexities aside for the
+moment, as I went to sleep. I felt the drowsiness gain upon me, and I
+was glad. To forget was of itself a happiness. I woke up, however,
+intensely awake, and in perfect possession of all my faculties, while it
+was yet dark; and at once got up and began to dress. The moment of
+hesitation which generally follows waking--the little interval of
+thought in which one turns over perhaps that which is past, perhaps that
+which is to come--found no place within me. I got up without a moment's
+pause, like one who has been called to go on a journey; nor did it
+surprise me at all to see my wife moving about, taking a cloak from her
+wardrobe, and putting up linen in a bag. She was already fully dressed;
+but she asked no questions of me any more than I did of her. We were in
+haste, though we said nothing. When I had dressed, I looked round me to
+see if I had forgotten anything, as one does when one leaves a place. I
+saw my watch suspended to its usual hook, and my pocketbook, which I had
+taken from my pocket on the previous night. I took up also the light
+overcoat which I had worn when I made my rounds through the city on the
+first night of the darkness. 'Now,' I said, 'Agnes, I am ready.' I did
+not speak to her of where we were going, nor she to me. Little Jean and
+my mother met us at the door. Nor did _she_ say anything, contrary to
+her custom; and the child was quite quiet. We went downstairs together
+without saying a word. The servants, who were all astir, followed us. I
+cannot give any description of the feelings that were in my mind. I had
+not any feelings. I was only hurried out, hastened by something which I
+could not define--a sense that I must go; and perhaps I was too much
+astonished to do anything but yield. It seemed, however, to be no force
+or fear that was moving me, but a desire of my own; though I could not
+tell how it was, or why I should be so anxious to get away. All the
+servants, trooping after me, had the same look in their faces; they were
+anxious to be gone--it seemed their business to go--there was no
+question, no consultation. And when we came out into the street, we
+encountered a stream of processions similar to our own. The children
+went quite steadily by the side of their parents. Little Jean, for
+example, on an ordinary occasion would have broken away--would have run
+to his comrades of the Bois-Sombre family, and they to him. But no; the
+little ones, like ourselves, walked along quite gravely. They asked no
+questions, neither did we ask any questions of each other, as, 'Where
+are you going?' or, 'What is the meaning of a so-early promenade?'
+Nothing of the kind; my mother took my arm, and my wife, leading little
+Jean by the hand, came to the other side. The servants followed. The
+street was quite full of people; but there was no noise except the sound
+of their footsteps. All of us turned the same way--turned towards the
+gates--and though I was not conscious of any feeling except the wish to
+go on, there were one or two things which took a place in my memory. The
+first was, that my wife suddenly turned round as we were coming out of
+the _porte-cochere_, her face lighting up. I need not say to any one who
+knows Madame Dupin de la Clairiere, that she is a beautiful woman.
+Without any partiality on my part, it would be impossible for me to
+ignore this fact: for it is perfectly well known and acknowledged by
+all. She was pale this morning--a little paler than usual; and her blue
+eyes enlarged, with a serious look, which they always retain more or
+less. But suddenly, as we went out of the door, her face lighted up, her
+eyes were suffused with tears--with light--how can I tell what it
+was?--they became like the eyes of angels. A little cry came from her
+parted lips--she lingered a moment, stooping down as if talking to some
+one less tall than herself, then came after us, with that light still in
+her face. At the moment I was too much occupied to enquire what it was;
+but I noted it, even in the gravity of the occasion. The next thing I
+observed was M. le Cure, who, as I have already indicated, is a man of
+great composure of manner and presence of mind, coming out of the door
+of the Presbytery. There was a strange look on his face of astonishment
+and reluctance. He walked very slowly, not as we did, but with a visible
+desire to turn back, folding his arms across his breast, and holding
+himself as if against the wind, resisting some gale which blew behind
+him, and forced him on. We felt no gale; but there seemed to be a
+strange wind blowing along the side of the street on which M. le Cure
+was. And there was an air of concealed surprise in his face--great
+astonishment, but a determination not to let any one see that he was
+astonished, or that the situation was strange to him. And I cannot tell
+how it was, but I, too, though pre-occupied, was surprised to perceive
+that M. le Cure was going with the rest of us, though I could not have
+told why.
+
+Behind M. le Cure there was another whom I remarked. This was Jacques
+Richard, he of whom I have already spoken. He was like a figure I have
+seen somewhere in sculpture. No one was near him, nobody touching him,
+and yet it was only necessary to look at the man to perceive that he
+was being forced along against his will. Every limb was in resistance;
+his feet were planted widely yet firmly upon the pavement; one of his
+arms was stretched out as if to lay hold on anything that should come
+within reach. M. le Cure resisted passively; but Jacques resisted with
+passion, laying his back to the wind, and struggling not to be carried
+away. Notwithstanding his resistance, however, this rough figure was
+driven along slowly, struggling at every step. He did not make one
+movement that was not against his will, but still he was driven on. On
+our side of the street all went, like ourselves, calmly. My mother
+uttered now and then a low moan, but said nothing. She clung to my arm,
+and walked on, hurrying a little, sometimes going quicker than I
+intended to go. As for my wife, she accompanied us with her light step,
+which scarcely seemed to touch the ground, little Jean pattering by her
+side. Our neighbours were all round us. We streamed down, as in a long
+procession, to the Porte St. Lambert. It was only when we got there that
+the strange character of the step we were all taking suddenly occurred
+to me. It was still a kind of grey twilight, not yet day. The bells of
+the Cathedral had begun to toll, which was very startling--not ringing
+in their cheerful way, but tolling as if for a funeral; and no other
+sound was audible but the noise of footsteps, like an army making a
+silent march into an enemy's country. We had reached the gate when a
+sudden wondering came over me. Why were we all going out of our houses
+in the wintry dusk to which our July days had turned? I stopped, and
+turning round, was about to say something to the others, when I became
+suddenly aware that here I was not my own master. My tongue clave to the
+root of my mouth; I could not say a word. Then I myself was turned
+round, and softly, firmly, irresistibly pushed out of the gate. My
+mother, who clung to me, added a little, no doubt, to the force against
+me, whatever it was, for she was frightened, and opposed herself to any
+endeavour on my part to regain freedom of movement; but all that her
+feeble force could do against mine must have been little. Several other
+men around me seemed to be moved as I was. M. Barbou, for one, made a
+still more decided effort to turn back, for, being a bachelor, he had no
+one to restrain him. Him I saw turned round as you would turn a
+_roulette_. He was thrown against my wife in his tempestuous course, and
+but that she was so light and elastic in her tread, gliding out straight
+and softly like one of the saints, I think he must have thrown her down.
+And at that moment, silent as we all were, his '_Pardon, Madame, mille
+pardons, Madame_,' and his tone of horror at his own indiscretion,
+seemed to come to me like a voice out of another life. Partially roused
+before by the sudden impulse of resistance I have described, I was yet
+more roused now. I turned round, disengaging myself from my mother.
+'Where are we going? why are we thus cast forth? My friends, help!' I
+cried. I looked round upon the others, who, as I have said, had also
+awakened to a possibility of resistance. M. de Bois-Sombre, without a
+word, came and placed himself by my side; others started from the crowd.
+We turned to resist this mysterious impulse which had sent us forth. The
+crowd surged round us in the uncertain light.
+
+Just then there was a dull soft sound, once, twice, thrice repeated. We
+rushed forward, but too late. The gates were closed upon us. The two
+folds of the great Porte St. Lambert, and the little postern for
+foot-passengers, all at once, not hurriedly, as from any fear of us, but
+slowly, softly, rolled on their hinges and shut--in our faces. I rushed
+forward with all my force and flung myself upon the gate. To what use?
+it was so closed as no mortal could open it. They told me after, for I
+was not aware at the moment, that I burst forth with cries and
+exclamations, bidding them 'Open, open in the name of God!' I was not
+aware of what I said, but it seemed to me that I heard a voice of which
+nobody said anything to me, so that it would seem to have been unheard
+by the others, saying with a faint sound as of a trumpet, 'Closed--in
+the name of God.' It might be only an echo, faintly brought back to me,
+of the words I had myself said.
+
+There was another change, however, of which no one could have any doubt.
+When I turned round from these closed doors, though the moment before
+the darkness was such that we could not see the gates closing, I found
+the sun shining gloriously round us, and all my fellow-citizens turning
+with one impulse, with a sudden cry of joy, to hail the full day.
+
+_Le grand jour!_ Never in my life did I feel the full happiness of it,
+the full sense of the words before. The sun burst out into shining, the
+birds into singing. The sky stretched over us--deep and unfathomable and
+blue,--the grass grew under our feet, a soft air of morning blew upon
+us; waving the curls of the children, the veils of the women, whose
+faces were lit up by the beautiful day. After three days of darkness
+what a resurrection! It seemed to make up to us for the misery of being
+thus expelled from our homes. It was early, and all the freshness of the
+morning was upon the road and the fields, where the sun had just dried
+the dew. The river ran softly, reflecting the blue sky. How black it had
+been, deep and dark as a stream of ink, when I had looked down upon it
+from the Mont St. Lambert! and now it ran as clear and free as the voice
+of a little child. We all shared this moment of joy--for to us of the
+South the sunshine is as the breath of life, and to be deprived of it
+had been terrible. But when that first pleasure was over, the evidence
+of our strange position forced itself upon us with overpowering reality
+and force, made stronger by the very light. In the dimness it had not
+seemed so certain; now, gazing at each other in the clear light of the
+natural morning, we saw what had happened to us. No more delusion was
+possible. We could not flatter ourselves now that it was a trick or a
+deception. M. le Clairon stood there like the rest of us, staring at the
+closed gates which science could not open. And there stood M. le Cure,
+which was more remarkable still. The Church herself had not been able to
+do anything. We stood, a crowd of houseless exiles, looking at each
+other, our children clinging to us, our hearts failing us, expelled from
+our homes. As we looked in each other's faces we saw our own trouble.
+Many of the women sat down and wept; some upon the stones in the road,
+some on the grass. The children took fright from them, and began to cry
+too. What was to become of us? I looked round upon this crowd with
+despair in my heart. It was I to whom every one would look--for lodging,
+for direction--everything that human creatures want. It was my business
+to forget myself, though I also had been driven from my home and my
+city. Happily there was one thing I had left. In the pocket of my
+overcoat was my scarf of office. I stepped aside behind a tree, and took
+it out, and tied it upon me. That was something. There was thus a
+representative of order and law in the midst of the exiles, whatever
+might happen. This action, which a great number of the crowd saw,
+restored confidence. Many of the poor people gathered round me, and
+placed themselves near me, especially those women who had no natural
+support. When M. le Cure saw this, it seemed to make a great impression
+upon him. He changed colour, he who was usually so calm. Hitherto he had
+appeared bewildered, amazed to find himself as others. This, I must add,
+though you may perhaps think it superstitious, surprised me very much
+too. But now he regained his self-possession. He stepped upon a piece of
+wood that lay in front of the gate. 'My children'--he said. But just
+then the Cathedral bells, which had gone on tolling, suddenly burst into
+a wild peal. I do not know what it sounded like. It was a clamour of
+notes all run together, tone upon tone, without time or measure, as
+though a multitude had seized upon the bells and pulled all the ropes at
+once. If it was joy, what strange and terrible joy! It froze the very
+blood in our veins. M. le Cure became quite pale. He stepped down
+hurriedly from the piece of wood. We all made a hurried movement farther
+off from the gate.
+
+It was now that I perceived the necessity of doing something, of getting
+this crowd disposed of, especially the women and the children. I am not
+ashamed to own that I trembled like the others; and nothing less than
+the consciousness that all eyes were upon me, and that my scarf of
+office marked me out among all who stood around, could have kept me from
+moving with precipitation as they did. I was enabled, however, to
+retire at a deliberate pace, and being thus slightly detached from the
+crowd, I took advantage of the opportunity to address them. Above all
+things, it was my duty to prevent a tumult in these unprecedented
+circumstances. 'My friends,' I said, 'the event which has occurred is
+beyond explanation for the moment. The very nature of it is mysterious;
+the circumstances are such as require the closest investigation. But
+take courage. I pledge myself not to leave this place till the gates are
+open, and you can return to your homes; in the meantime, however, the
+women and the children cannot remain here. Let those who have friends in
+the villages near, go and ask for shelter; and let all who will, go to
+my house of La Clairiere. My mother, my wife! recall to yourselves the
+position you occupy, and show an example. Lead our neighbours, I entreat
+you, to La Clairiere.'
+
+My mother is advanced in years and no longer strong, but she has a great
+heart. 'I will go,' she said. 'God bless thee, my son! There will no
+harm happen; for if this be true which we are told, thy father is in
+Semur.'
+
+There then occurred one of those incidents for which calculation never
+will prepare us. My mother's words seemed, as it were to open the
+flood-gates; my wife came up to me with the light in her face which I
+had seen when we left our own door. 'It was our little Marie--our
+angel,' she said. And then there arose a great cry and clamour of
+others, both men and women pressing round. 'I saw my mother,' said one,
+'who is dead twenty years come the St. Jean.' 'And I my little Rene,'
+said another. 'And I my Camille, who was killed in Africa.' And lo, what
+did they do, but rush towards the gate in a crowd--that gate from which
+they had but this moment fled in terror--beating upon it, and crying
+out, 'Open to us, open to us, our most dear! Do you think we have
+forgotten you? We have never forgotten you!' What could we do with
+them, weeping thus, smiling, holding out their arms to--we knew not
+what? Even my Agnes was beyond my reach. Marie was our little girl who
+was dead. Those who were thus transported by a knowledge beyond ours
+were the weakest among us; most of them were women, the men old or
+feeble, and some children. I can recollect that I looked for Paul
+Lecamus among them, with wonder not to see him there. But though they
+were weak, they were beyond our strength to guide. What could we do with
+them? How could we force them away while they held to the fancy that
+those they loved were there? As it happens in times of emotion, it was
+those who were most impassioned who took the first place. We were at our
+wits' end.
+
+But while we stood waiting, not knowing what to do, another sound
+suddenly came from the walls, which made them all silent in a moment.
+The most of us ran to this point and that (some taking flight
+altogether; but with the greater part anxious curiosity and anxiety had
+for the moment extinguished fear), in a wild eagerness to see who or
+what it was. But there was nothing to be seen, though the sound came
+from the wall close to the Mont St. Lambert, which I have already
+described. It was to me like the sound of a trumpet, and so I heard
+others say; and along with the trumpet were sounds as of words, though I
+could not make them out. But those others seemed to understand--they
+grew calmer--they ceased to weep. They raised their faces, all with that
+light upon them--that light I had seen in my Agnes. Some of them fell
+upon their knees. Imagine to yourself what a sight it was, all of us
+standing round, pale, stupefied, without a word to say! Then the women
+suddenly burst forth into replies--_'Oui, ma cherie! Oui, mon ange_!'
+they cried. And while we looked they rose up; they came back, calling
+the children around them. My Agnes took that place which I had bidden
+her take. She had not hearkened to me, to leave me--but she hearkened
+now; and though I had bidden her to do this, yet to see her do it
+bewildered me, made my heart stand still. '_Mon ami_,' she said, 'I must
+leave thee; it is commanded: they will not have the children suffer.'
+What could we do? We stood pale and looked on, while all the little
+ones, all the feeble, were gathered in a little army. My mother stood
+like me--to her nothing had been revealed. She was very pale, and there
+was a quiver of pain in her lips. She was the one who had been ready to
+do my bidding: but there was a rebellion in her heart now. When the
+procession was formed (for it was my care to see that everything was
+done in order), she followed, but among the last. Thus they went away,
+many of them weeping, looking back, waving their hands to us. My Agnes
+covered her face, she could not look at me; but she obeyed. They went
+some to this side, some to that, leaving us gazing. For a long time we
+did nothing but watch them, going along the roads. What had their angels
+said to them? Nay, but God knows. I heard the sound; it was like the
+sound of the silver trumpets that travellers talk of; it was like music
+from heaven. I turned to M. le Cure, who was standing by. 'What is it?'
+I cried, 'you are their director--you are an ecclesiastic--you know what
+belongs to the unseen. What is this that has been said to them?' I have
+always thought well of M. le Cure. There were tears running down his
+cheeks.
+
+'I know not,' he said. 'I am a miserable like the rest. What they know
+is between God and them. Me! I have been of the world, like the rest.'
+
+This is how we were left alone--the men of the city--to take what means
+were best to get back to our homes. There were several left among us who
+had shared the enlightenment of the women, but these were not persons of
+importance who could put themselves at the head of affairs. And there
+were women who remained with us, but these not of the best. To see our
+wives go was very strange to us; it was the thing we wished most to see,
+the women and children in safety; yet it was a strange sensation to see
+them go. For me, who had the charge of all on my hands, the relief was
+beyond description--yet was it strange; I cannot describe it. Then I
+called upon M. Barbou, who was trembling like a leaf, and gathered the
+chief of the citizens about me, including M. le Cure, that we should
+consult together what we should do.
+
+I know no words that can describe our state in the strange circumstances
+we were now placed in. The women and the children were safe: that was
+much. But we--we were like an army suddenly formed, but without arms,
+without any knowledge of how to fight, without being able to see our
+enemy. We Frenchmen have not been without knowledge of such perils. We
+have seen the invader enter our doors; we have been obliged to spread
+our table for him, and give him of our best. But to be put forth by
+forces no man could resist--to be left outside, with the doors of our
+own houses closed upon us--to be confronted by nothing--by a mist, a
+silence, a darkness,--this was enough to paralyse the heart of any man.
+And it did so, more or less, according to the nature of those who were
+exposed to the trial. Some altogether failed us, and fled, carrying the
+news into the country, where most people laughed at there, as we
+understood afterwards. Some could do nothing but sit and gaze, huddled
+together in crowds, at the cloud over Semur, from which they expected to
+see fire burst and consume the city altogether. And a few, I grieve to
+say, took possession of the little _cabaret_, which stands at about half
+a kilometre from the St. Lambert gate, and established themselves there,
+in hideous riot, which was the worst thing of all for serious men to
+behold. Those upon whom I could rely I formed into patrols to go round
+the city, that no opening of a gate, or movement of those who were
+within, should take place without our knowledge. Such an emergency shows
+what men are. M. Barbou, though in ordinary times he discharges his
+duties as _adjoint_ satisfactorily enough (though, it need not be added,
+a good Maire who is acquainted with his duties, makes the office of
+_adjoint_ of but little importance), was now found entirely useless. He
+could not forget how he had been spun round and tossed forth from the
+city gates. When I proposed to put him at the head of a patrol, he had
+an attack of the nerves. Before nightfall he deserted me altogether,
+going off to his country-house, and taking a number of his neighbours
+with him. 'How can we tell when we may be permitted to return to the
+town?' he said, with his teeth chattering. 'M. le Maire, I adjure you to
+put yourself in a place of safety.'
+
+'Sir,' I said to him, sternly, 'for one who deserts his post there is no
+place of safety.'
+
+But I do not think he was capable of understanding me. Fortunately, I
+found in M. le Cure a much more trustworthy coadjutor. He was
+indefatigable; he had the habit of sitting up to all hours, of being
+called at all hours, in which our _bourgeoisie_, I cannot but
+acknowledge, is wanting. The expression I have before described of
+astonishment--but of astonishment which he wished to conceal--never left
+his face. He did not understand how such a thing could have been
+permitted to happen while he had no share in it; and, indeed, I will not
+deny that this was a matter of great wonder to myself too.
+
+The arrangements I have described gave us occupation; and this had a
+happy effect upon us in distracting our minds from what had happened;
+for I think that if we had sat still and gazed at the dark city we
+should soon have gone mad, as some did. In our ceaseless patrols and
+attempts to find a way of entrance, we distracted ourselves from the
+enquiry, Who would dare to go in if the entrance were found? In the
+meantime not a gate was opened, not a figure was visible. We saw
+nothing, no more than if Semur had been a picture painted upon a canvas.
+Strange sights indeed met our eyes--sights which made even the bravest
+quail. The strangest of them was the boats that would go down and up the
+river, shooting forth from under the fortified bridge, which is one of
+the chief features of our town, sometimes with sails perfectly well
+managed, sometimes impelled by oars, but with no one visible in them--no
+one conducting them. To see one of these boats impelled up the stream,
+with no rower visible, was a wonderful sight. M. de Clairon, who was by
+my side, murmured something about a magnetic current; but when I asked
+him sternly by what set in motion, his voice died away in his moustache.
+M. le Cure said very little: one saw his lips move as he watched with us
+the passage of those boats. He smiled when it was proposed by some one
+to fire upon them. He read his Hours as he went round at the head of
+his patrol. My fellow townsmen and I conceived a great respect for him;
+and he inspired pity in me also. He had been the teacher of the Unseen
+among us, till the moment when the Unseen was thus, as it were, brought
+within our reach; but with the revelation he had nothing to do; and it
+filled him with pain and wonder. It made him silent; he said little
+about his religion, but signed himself, and his lips moved. He thought
+(I imagine) that he had displeased Those who are over all.
+
+When night came the bravest of us were afraid. I speak for myself. It
+was bright moonlight where we were, and Semur lay like a blot between
+the earth and the sky, all dark: even the Cathedral towers were lost in
+it; nothing visible but the line of the ramparts, whitened outside by
+the moon. One knows what black and strange shadows are cast by the
+moonlight; and it seemed to all of us that we did not know what might be
+lurking behind every tree. The shadows of the branches looked like
+terrible faces. I sent all my people out on the patrols, though they
+were dropping with fatigue. Rather that than to be mad with terror. For
+myself, I took up my post as near the bank of the river as we could
+approach; for there was a limit beyond which we might not pass. I made
+the experiment often; and it seemed to me, and to all that attempted it,
+that we did reach the very edge of the stream; but the next moment
+perceived that we were at a certain distance, say twenty metres or
+thereabout. I placed myself there very often, wrapping a cloak about me
+to preserve me from the dew. (I may say that food had been sent us, and
+wine from La Clairiere and many other houses in the neighbourhood, where
+the women had gone for this among other reasons, that we might be
+nourished by them.) And I must here relate a personal incident, though I
+have endeavoured not to be egotistical. While I sat watching, I
+distinctly saw a boat, a boat which belonged to myself, lying on the
+very edge of the shadow. The prow, indeed, touched the moonlight where
+it was cut clean across by the darkness; and this was how I discovered
+that it was the Marie, a pretty pleasure-boat which had been made for my
+wife. The sight of it made my heart beat; for what could it mean but
+that some one who was dear to me, some one in whom I took an interest,
+was there? I sprang up from where I sat to make another effort to get
+nearer; but my feet were as lead, and would not move; and there came a
+singing in my ears, and my blood coursed through my veins as in a fever.
+Ah! was it possible? I, who am a man, who have resolution, who have
+courage, who can lead the people, _I was afraid!_ I sat down again and
+wept like a child. Perhaps it was my little Marie that was in the boat.
+God, He knows if I loved thee, my little angel! but I was afraid. O how
+mean is man! though we are so proud. They came near to me who were my
+own, and it was borne in upon my spirit that my good father was with
+the child; but because they had died I was afraid. I covered my face
+with my hands. Then it seemed to me that I heard a long quiver of a
+sigh; a long, long breath, such as sometimes relieves a sorrow that is
+beyond words. Trembling, I uncovered my eyes. There was nothing on the
+edge of the moonlight; all was dark, and all was still, the white
+radiance making a clear line across the river, but nothing more.
+
+If my Agnes had been with me she would have seen our child, she would
+have heard that voice! The great cold drops of moisture were on my
+forehead. My limbs trembled, my heart fluttered in my bosom. I could
+neither listen nor yet speak. And those who would have spoken to me,
+those who loved me, sighing, went away. It is not possible that such
+wretchedness should be credible to noble minds; and if it had not been
+for pride and for shame, I should have fled away straight to La
+Clairiere, to Put myself under shelter, to have some one near me who
+was less a coward than I. I, upon whom all the others relied, the Maire
+of the Commune! I make my confession. I was of no more force than this.
+
+A voice behind me made me spring to my feet--the leap of a mouse would
+have driven me wild. I was altogether demoralised. 'Monsieur le Maire,
+it is but I,' said some one quite humble and frightened.
+
+'_Tiens!_--it is thou, Jacques!' I said. I could have embraced him,
+though it is well known how little I approve of him. But he was living,
+he was a man like myself. I put out my hand, and felt him warm and
+breathing, and I shall never forget the ease that came to my heart. Its
+beating calmed. I was restored to myself.
+
+'M. le Maire,' he said, 'I wish to ask you something. Is it true all
+that is said about these people, I would say, these Messieurs? I do not
+wish to speak with disrespect, M. le Maire.'
+
+'What is it, Jacques, that is said?' I had called him 'thou' not out of
+contempt, but because, for the moment, he seemed to me as a brother, as
+one of my friends.
+
+'M. le Maire, is it indeed _les morts_ that are in Semur?'
+
+He trembled, and so did I. 'Jacques,' I said, 'you know all that I
+know.'
+
+'Yes, M. le Maire, it is so, sure enough. I do not doubt it. If it were
+the Prussians, a man could fight. But _ces Messieurs la!_ What I want to
+know is: is it because of what you did to those little Sisters, those
+good little ladies of St. Jean?'
+
+'What I did? You were yourself one of the complainants. You were of
+those who said, when a man is ill, when he is suffering, they torment
+him with their mass; it is quiet he wants, not their mass. These were
+thy words, _vaurien_. And now you say it was I!'
+
+'True, M. le Maire,' said Jacques; 'but look you, when a man is better,
+when he has just got well, when he feels he is safe, then you should not
+take what he says for gospel. It would be strange if one had a new
+illness just when one is getting well of the old; and one feels now is
+the time to enjoy one's self, to kick up one's heels a little, while at
+least there is not likely to be much of a watch kept _up there_--the
+saints forgive me,' cried Jacques, trembling and crossing himself, 'if I
+speak with levity at such a moment! And the little ladies were very
+kind. It was wrong to close their chapel, M. le Maire. From that comes
+all our trouble.'
+
+'You good-for-nothing!' I cried, 'it is you and such as you that are the
+beginning of our trouble. You thought there was no watch kept _up
+there_; you thought God would not take the trouble to punish you; you
+went about the streets of Semur tossing a _grosse piece_ of a hundred
+sous, and calling out, "There is no God--this is my god; _l'argent,
+c'est le bon Dieu_."'
+
+'M. le Maire, M. le Maire, be silent, I implore you! It is enough to
+bring down a judgment upon us.'
+
+'It has brought down a judgment upon us. Go thou and try what thy
+_grosse piece_ will do for thee now--worship thy god. Go, I tell you,
+and get help from your money.'
+
+'I have no money, M. le Maire, and what could money do here? We would do
+much better to promise a large candle for the next festival, and that
+the ladies of St. Jean--'
+
+'Get away with thee to the end of the world, thou and thy ladies of St.
+Jean!' I cried; which was wrong, I do not deny it, for they are good
+women, not like this good-for-nothing fellow. And to think that this
+man, whom I despise, was more pleasant to me than the dear souls who
+loved me! Shame came upon me at the thought. I too, then, was like the
+others, fearing the Unseen--capable of understanding only that which was
+palpable. When Jacques slunk away, which he did for a few steps, not
+losing sight of me, I turned my face towards the river and the town. The
+moonlight fell upon the water, white as silver where that line of
+darkness lay, shining, as if it tried, and tried in vain, to penetrate
+Semur; and between that and the blue sky overhead lay the city out of
+which we had been driven forth--the city of the dead. 'O God,' I cried,
+'whom I know not, am not I to Thee as my little Jean is to me, a child
+and less than a child? Do not abandon me in this darkness. Would I
+abandon him were he ever so disobedient? And God, if thou art God, Thou
+art a better father than I.' When I had said this, my heart was a little
+relieved. It seemed to me that I had spoken to some one who knew all of
+us, whether we were dead or whether we were living. That is a wonderful
+thing to think of, when it appears to one not as a thing to believe, but
+as something that is real. It gave me courage. I got up and went to meet
+the patrol which was coming in, and found that great good-for-nothing
+Jacques running close after me, holding my cloak. 'Do not send me away,
+M. le Maire,' he said, 'I dare not stay by myself with _them_ so near.'
+Instead of his money, in which he had trusted, it was I who had become
+his god now.
+
+
+OUTSIDE THE WALLS.
+
+There are few who have not heard something of the sufferings of a siege.
+Whether within or without, it is the most terrible of all the
+experiences of war. I am old enough to recollect the trenches before
+Sebastopol, and all that my countrymen and the English endured there.
+Sometimes I endeavoured to think of this to distract me from what we
+ourselves endured. But how different was it! We had neither shelter nor
+support. We had no weapons, nor any against whom to wield them. We were
+cast out of our homes in the midst of our lives, in the midst of our
+occupations, and left there helpless, to gaze at each other, to blind
+our eyes trying to penetrate the darkness before us. Could we have done
+anything, the oppression might have been less terrible--but what was
+there that we could do? Fortunately (though I do not deny that I felt
+each desertion) our band grew less and less every day. Hour by hour some
+one stole away--first one, then another, dispersing themselves among the
+villages near, in which many had friends. The accounts which these men
+gave were, I afterwards learnt, of the most vague description. Some
+talked of wonders they had seen, and were laughed at--and some spread
+reports of internal division among us. Not till long after did I know
+all the reports that went abroad. It was said that there had been
+fighting in Semur, and that we were divided into two factions, one of
+which had gained the mastery, and driven the other out. This was the
+story current in La Rochette, where they are always glad to hear
+anything to the discredit of the people of Semur; but no credence could
+have been given to it by those in authority, otherwise M. le Prefet,
+however indifferent to our interests, must necessarily have taken some
+steps for our relief. Our entire separation from the world was indeed
+one of the strangest details of this terrible period. Generally the
+diligence, though conveying on the whole few passengers, returned with
+two or three, at least, visitors or commercial persons, daily-and the
+latter class frequently arrived in carriages of their own; but during
+this period no stranger came to see our miserable plight. We made
+shelter for ourselves under the branches of the few trees that grew in
+the uncultivated ground on either side of the road--and a hasty
+erection, half tent half shed, was put up for a place to assemble in, or
+for those who were unable to bear the heat of the day or the occasional
+chills of the night. But the most of us were too restless to seek
+repose, and could not bear to be out of sight of the city. At any moment
+it seemed to us the gates might open, or some loophole be visible by
+which we might throw ourselves upon the darkness and vanquish it. This
+was what we said to ourselves, forgetting how we shook and trembled
+whenever any contact had been possible with those who were within. But
+one thing was certain, that though we feared, we could not turn our eyes
+from the place. We slept leaning against a tree, or with our heads on
+our hands, and our faces toward Semur. We took no count of day or night,
+but ate the morsel the women brought to us, and slept thus, not
+sleeping, when want or weariness overwhelmed us. There was scarcely an
+hour in the day that some of the women did not come to ask what news.
+They crept along the roads in twos and threes, and lingered for hours
+sitting by the way weeping, starting at every breath of wind.
+
+Meanwhile all was not silent within Semur. The Cathedral bells rang
+often, at first filling us with hope, for how familiar was that sound!
+The first time, we all gathered together and listened, and many wept.
+It was as if we heard our mother's voice. M. de Bois-Sombre burst into
+tears. I have never seen him within the doors of the Cathedral since his
+marriage; but he burst into tears. '_Mon Dieu!_ if I were but there!' he
+said. We stood and listened, our hearts melting, some falling on their
+knees. M. le Cure stood up in the midst of us and began to intone the
+psalm: [He has a beautiful voice. It is sympathetic, it goes to the
+heart.] 'I was glad when they said to me, Let us go up--' And though
+there were few of us who could have supposed themselves capable of
+listening to that sentiment a little while before with any sympathy, yet
+a vague hope rose up within us while we heard him, while we listened to
+the bells. What man is there to whom the bells of his village, the
+_carillon_ of his city, is not most dear? It rings for him through all
+his life; it is the first sound of home in the distance when he comes
+back--the last that follows him like a long farewell when he goes away.
+While we listened, we forgot our fears. They were as we were, they were
+also our brethren, who rang those bells. We seemed to see them trooping
+into our beautiful Cathedral. All! only to see it again, to be within
+its shelter, cool and calm as in our mother's arms! It seemed to us that
+we should wish for nothing more.
+
+When the sound ceased we looked into each other's faces, and each man
+saw that his neighbour was pale. Hope died in us when the sound died
+away, vibrating sadly through the air. Some men threw themselves on the
+ground in their despair.
+
+And from this time forward many voices were heard, calls and shouts
+within the walls, and sometimes a sound like a trumpet, and other
+instruments of music. We thought, indeed, that noises as of bands
+patrolling along the ramparts were audible as our patrols worked their
+way round and round. This was a duty which I never allowed to be
+neglected, not because I put very much faith in it, but because it gave
+us a sort of employment. There is a story somewhere which I recollect
+dimly of an ancient city which its assailants did not touch, but only
+marched round and round till the walls fell, and they could enter.
+Whether this was a story of classic times or out of our own remote
+history, I could not recollect. But I thought of it many times while we
+made our way like a procession of ghosts, round and round, straining our
+ears to hear what those voices were which sounded above us, in tones
+that were familiar, yet so strange. This story got so much into my head
+(and after a time all our heads seemed to get confused and full of wild
+and bewildering expedients) that I found myself suggesting--I, a man
+known for sense and reason--that we should blow trumpets at some time to
+be fixed, which was a thing the ancients had done in the strange tale
+which had taken possession of me. M. le Cure looked at me with
+disapproval. He said, 'I did not expect from M. le Maire anything that
+was disrespectful to religion.' Heaven forbid that I should be
+disrespectful to religion at any time of life, but then it was
+impossible to me. I remembered after that the tale of which I speak,
+which had so seized upon me, was in the sacred writings; but those who
+know me will understand that no sneer at these writings or intention of
+wounding the feelings of M. le Cure was in my mind.
+
+I was seated one day upon a little inequality of the ground, leaning my
+back against a half-withered hawthorn, and dozing with my head in my
+hands, when a soothing, which always diffuses itself from her presence,
+shed itself over me, and opening my eyes, I saw my Agnes sitting by me.
+She had come with some food and a little linen, fresh and soft like her
+own touch. My wife was not gaunt and worn like me, but she was pale and
+as thin as a shadow. I woke with a start, and seeing her there, there
+suddenly came a dread over me that she would pass away before my eyes,
+and go over to Those who were within Semur. I cried '_Non, mon Agnes;
+non, mon Agnes:_ before you ask, No!' seizing her and holding her fast
+in this dream, which was not altogether a dream. She looked at me with a
+smile, that smile that has always been to me as the rising of the sun
+over the earth.
+
+'_Mon ami_,' she said surprised, 'I ask nothing, except that you should
+take a little rest and spare thyself.' Then she added, with haste, what
+I knew she would say, 'Unless it were this, _mon ami_. If I were
+permitted, I would go into the city--I would ask those who are there
+what is their meaning: and if no way can be found--no act of
+penitence.--Oh! do not answer in haste! I have no fear; and it would be
+to save thee.'
+
+A strong throb of anger came into my throat. Figure to yourself that I
+looked at my wife with anger, with the same feeling which had moved me
+when the deserters left us; but far more hot and sharp. I seized her
+soft hands and crushed them in mine. 'You would leave me!' I said. 'You
+would desert your husband. You would go over to our enemies!'
+
+'O Martin, say not so,' she cried, with tears. 'Not enemies. There is
+our little Marie, and my mother, who died when I was born.'
+
+'You love these dead tyrants. Yes,' I said, 'you love them best. You
+will go to--the majority, to the strongest. Do not speak to me! Because
+your God is on their side, you will forsake us too.'
+
+Then she threw herself upon me and encircled me with her arms. The touch
+of them stilled my passion; but yet I held her, clutching her gown, so
+terrible a fear came over me that she would go and come back no more.
+
+'Forsake thee!' she breathed out over me with a moan. Then, putting her
+cool cheek to mine, which burned, 'But I would die for thee, Martin.'
+
+'Silence, my wife: that is what you shall not do,' I cried, beside
+myself. I rose up; I put her away from me. That is, I know it, what has
+been done. Their God does this, they do not hesitate to say--takes from
+you what you love best, to make you better--_you!_ and they ask you to
+love Him when He has thus despoiled you! 'Go home, Agnes,' I said,
+hoarse with terror. 'Let us face them as we may; you shall not go among
+them, or put thyself in peril. Die for me! _Mon Dieu!_ and what then,
+what should I do then? Turn your face from them; turn from them; go! go!
+and let me not see thee here again.'
+
+My wife did not understand the terror that seized me. She obeyed me, as
+she always does, but, with the tears falling from her white cheeks,
+fixed upon me the most piteous look. '_Mon ami_,' she said, 'you are
+disturbed, you are not in possession of yourself; this cannot be what
+you mean.'
+
+'Let me not see thee here again!' I cried. 'Would you make me mad in
+the midst of my trouble? No! I will not have you look that way. Go home!
+go home!' Then I took her into my arms and wept, though I am not a man
+given to tears. 'Oh! my Agnes,' I said, 'give me thy counsel. What you
+tell me I will do; but rather than risk thee, I would live thus for
+ever, and defy them.'
+
+She put her hand upon my lips. 'I will not ask this again,' she said,
+bowing her head; 'but defy them--why should you defy them? Have they
+come for nothing? Was Semur a city of the saints? They have come to
+convert our people, Martin--thee too, and the rest. If you will submit
+your hearts, they will open the gates, they will go back to their sacred
+homes and we to ours. This has been borne in upon me sleeping and
+waking; and it seemed to me that if I could but go, and say, "Oh! my
+fathers, oh! my brothers, they submit," all would be well. For I do not
+fear them, Martin. Would they harm me that love us? I would but give
+our Marie one kiss----'
+
+'You are a traitor!' I said. 'You would steal yourself from me, and do
+me the worst wrong of all----'
+
+But I recovered my calm. What she said reached my understanding at last.
+'Submit!' I said, 'but to what? To come and turn us from our homes, to
+wrap our town in darkness, to banish our wives and our children, to
+leave us here to be scorched by the sun and drenched by the rain,--this
+is not to convince us, my Agnes. And to what then do you bid us
+submit----?'
+
+'It is to convince you, _mon ami_, of the love of God, who has permitted
+this great tribulation to be, that we might be saved,' said Agnes. Her
+face was sublime with faith. It is possible to these dear women; but for
+me the words she spoke were but words without meaning. I shook my head.
+Now that my horror and alarm were passed, I could well remember often to
+have heard words like these before.
+
+'My angel!' I said, 'all this I admire, I adore in thee; but how is it
+the love of God?--and how shall we be saved by it? Submit! I will do
+anything that is reasonable; but of what truth have we here the
+proof----?'
+
+Some one had come up behind as we were talking. When I heard his voice I
+smiled, notwithstanding my despair. It was natural that the Church
+should come to the woman's aid. But I would not refuse to give ear to M.
+le Cure, who had proved himself a man, had he been ten times a priest.
+
+'I have not heard what Madame has been saying, M. le Maire, neither
+would I interpose but for your question. You ask of what truth have we
+the proof here? It is the Unseen that has revealed itself. Do we see
+anything, you and I? Nothing, nothing, but a cloud. But that which we
+cannot see, that which we know not, that which we dread--look! it is
+there.'
+
+I turned unconsciously as he pointed with his hand. Oh, heaven, what
+did I see! Above the cloud that wrapped Semur there was a separation, a
+rent in the darkness, and in mid heaven the Cathedral towers, pointing
+to the sky. I paid no more attention to M. le Cure. I sent forth a shout
+that roused all, even the weary line of the patrol that was marching
+slowly with bowed heads round the walls; and there went up such a cry of
+joy as shook the earth. 'The towers, the towers!' I cried. These were
+the towers that could be seen leagues off, the first sign of Semur; our
+towers, which we had been born to love like our father's name. I have
+had joys in my life, deep and great. I have loved, I have won honours, I
+have conquered difficulty; but never had I felt as now. It was as if one
+had been born again.
+
+When we had gazed upon them, blessing them and thanking God, I gave
+orders that all our company should be called to the tent, that we might
+consider whether any new step could now be taken: Agnes with the other
+women sitting apart on one side and waiting. I recognised even in the
+excitement of such a time that theirs was no easy part. To sit there
+silent, to wait till we had spoken, to be bound by what we decided, and
+to have no voice--yes, that was hard. They thought they knew better than
+we did: but they were silent, devouring us with their eager eyes. I love
+one woman more than all the world; I count her the best thing that God
+has made; yet would I not be as Agnes for all that life could give me.
+It was her part to be silent, and she was so, like the angel she is,
+while even Jacques Richard had the right to speak. _Mon Dieu!_ but it is
+hard, I allow it; they have need to be angels. This thought passed
+through my mind even at the crisis which had now arrived. For at such
+moments one sees everything, one thinks of everything, though it is only
+after that one remembers what one has seen and thought. When my
+fellow-citizens gathered together (we were now less than a hundred in
+number, so many had gone from us), I took it upon myself to speak. We
+were a haggard, worn-eyed company, having had neither shelter nor sleep
+nor even food, save in hasty snatches. I stood at the door of the tent
+and they below, for the ground sloped a little. Beside me were M. le
+Cure, M. de Bois-Sombre, and one or two others of the chief citizens.
+'My friends,' I said, 'you have seen that a new circumstance has
+occurred. It is not within our power to tell what its meaning is, yet it
+must be a symptom of good. For my own part, to see these towers makes
+the air lighter. Let us think of the Church as we may, no one can deny
+that the towers of Semur are dear to our hearts.'
+
+'M. le Maire,' said M. de Bois-Sombre, interrupting, 'I speak I am sure
+the sentiments of my fellow-citizens when I say that there is no longer
+any question among us concerning the Church; it is an admirable
+institution, a universal advantage----'
+
+'Yes, yes,' said the crowd, 'yes, certainly!' and some added, 'It is the
+only safeguard, it is our protection,' and some signed themselves. In
+the crowd I saw Riou, who had done this at the _octroi_. But the sign
+did not surprise me now.
+
+M. le Cure stood by my side, but he did not smile. His countenance was
+dark, almost angry. He stood quite silent, with his eyes on the ground.
+It gave him no pleasure, this profession of faith.
+
+'It is well, my friends,' said I, 'we are all in accord; and the good
+God has permitted us again to see these towers. I have called you
+together to collect your ideas. This change must have a meaning. It has
+been suggested to me that we might send an ambassador--a messenger, if
+that is possible, into the city--'
+
+Here I stopped short; and a shiver ran through me--a shiver which went
+over the whole company. We were all pale as we looked in each other's
+faces; and for a moment no one ventured to speak. After this pause it
+was perhaps natural that he who first found his voice should be the last
+who had any right to give an opinion. Who should it be but Jacques
+Richard? 'M. le Maire,' cried the fellow, 'speaks at his ease--but who
+will thus risk himself?' Probably he did not mean that his grumbling
+should be heard, but in the silence every sound was audible; there was a
+gasp, a catching of the breath, and all turned their eyes again upon me.
+I did not pause to think what answer I should give. 'I!' I cried. 'Here
+stands one who will risk himself, who will perish if need be--'
+
+Something stirred behind me. It was Agnes who had risen to her feet, who
+stood with her lips parted and quivering, with her hands clasped, as if
+about to speak. But she did not speak. Well! she had proposed to do it.
+Then why not I?
+
+'Let me make the observation,' said another of our fellow-citizens,
+Bordereau the banker, 'that this would not be just. Without M. le Maire
+we should be a mob without a head. If a messenger is to be sent, let it
+be some one not so indispensable----'
+
+'Why send a messenger?' said another, Philip Leclerc. 'Do we know that
+these Messieurs will admit any one? and how can you speak, how can you
+parley with those--' and he too, was seized with a shiver--'whom you
+cannot see?'
+
+Then there came another voice out of the crowd. It was one who would not
+show himself, who was conscious of the mockery in his tone. 'If there is
+any one sent, let it be M. le Cure,' it said.
+
+M. le Cure stepped forward. His pale countenance flushed red. 'Here am
+I,' he said, 'I am ready; but he who spoke speaks to mock me. Is it
+befitting in this presence?'
+
+There was a struggle among the men. Whoever it was who had spoken (I did
+not wish to know), I had no need to condemn the mocker; they themselves
+silenced him; then Jacques Richard (still less worthy of credit) cried
+out again with a voice that was husky. What are men made of?
+Notwithstanding everything, it was from the _cabaret_, from the
+wine-shop, that he had come. He said, 'Though M. le Maire will not take
+my opinion, yet it is this. Let them reopen the chapel in the hospital.
+The ladies of St. Jean--'
+
+'Hold thy peace,' I said, 'miserable!' But a murmur rose. 'Though it is
+not his part to speak, I agree,' said one. 'And I.' 'And I.' There was
+well-nigh a tumult of consent; and this made me angry. Words were on my
+lips which it might have been foolish to utter, when M. de Bois-Sombre,
+who is a man of judgment, interfered.
+
+'M. le Maire,' he said, 'as there are none of us here who would show
+disrespect to the Church and holy things--that is understood--it is not
+necessary to enter into details. Every restriction that would wound the
+most susceptible is withdrawn; not one more than another, but all. We
+have been indifferent in the past, but for the future you will agree
+with me that everything shall be changed. The ambassador--whoever he may
+be--' he added with a catching of his breath, 'must be empowered to
+promise--everything--submission to all that may be required.'
+
+Here the women could not restrain themselves; they all rose up with a
+cry, and many of them began to weep. 'Ah!' said one with a hysterical
+sound of laughter in her tears. '_Sainte Mere_! it will be heaven upon
+earth.'
+
+M. le Cure said nothing; a keen glance of wonder, yet of subdued
+triumph, shot from under his eyelids. As for me, I wrung my hands: 'What
+you say will be superstition; it will be hypocrisy,' I cried.
+
+But at that moment a further incident occurred. Suddenly, while we
+deliberated, a long loud peal of a trumpet sounded into the air. I have
+already said that many sounds had been heard before; but this was
+different; there was not one of us that did not feel that this was
+addressed to himself. The agitation was extreme; it was a summons, the
+beginning of some distinct communication. The crowd scattered; but for
+myself, after a momentary struggle, I went forward resolutely. I did not
+even look back at my wife. I was no longer Martin Dupin, but the Maire
+of Semur, the saviour of the community. Even Bois-Sombre quailed: but I
+felt that it was in me to hold head against death itself; and before I
+had gone two steps I felt rather than saw that M. le Cure had come to my
+side. We went on without a word; gradually the others collected behind
+us, following yet straggling here and there upon the inequalities of the
+ground.
+
+Before us lay the cloud that was Semur, a darkness defined by the
+shining of the summer day around, the river escaping from that gloom as
+from a cavern, the towers piercing through, but the sunshine thrown back
+on every side from that darkness. I have spoken of the walls as if we
+saw them, but there were no walls visible, nor any gate, though we all
+turned like blind men to where the Porte St. Lambert was. There was the
+broad vacant road leading up to it, leading into the gloom. We stood
+there at a little distance. Whether it was human weakness or an
+invisible barrier, how can I tell? We stood thus immovable, with the
+trumpet pealing out over us, out of the cloud. It summoned every man as
+by his name. To me it was not wonderful that this impression should
+come, but afterwards it was elicited from all that this was the feeling
+of each. Though no words were said, it was as the calling of our names.
+We all waited in such a supreme agitation as I cannot describe for some
+communication that was to come.
+
+When suddenly, in a moment, the trumpet ceased; there was an interval of
+dead and terrible silence; then, each with a leap of his heart as if it
+would burst from his bosom, we saw a single figure slowly detach itself
+out of the gloom. 'My God!' I cried. My senses went from me; I felt my
+head go round like a straw tossed on the winds.
+
+To know them so near, those mysterious visitors--to feel them, to hear
+them, was not that enough? But, to see! who could bear it? Our voices
+rang like broken chords, like a tearing and rending of sound. Some
+covered their faces with their hands; for our very eyes seemed to be
+drawn out of their sockets, fluttering like things with a separate life.
+
+Then there fell upon us a strange and wonderful calm. The figure
+advanced slowly; there was weakness in it. The step, though solemn, was
+feeble; and if you can figure to yourself our consternation, the pause,
+the cry--our hearts dropping back as it might be into their places--the
+sudden stop of the wild panting in our breasts: when there became
+visible to us a human face well known, a man as we were. 'Lecamus!' I
+cried; and all the men round took it up, crowding nearer, trembling yet
+delivered from their terror; some even laughed in the relief. There was
+but one who had an air of discontent, and that was M. le Cure. As he
+said 'Lecamus!' like the rest, there was impatience, disappointment,
+anger in his tone.
+
+And I, who had wondered where Lecamus had gone; thinking sometimes that
+he was one of the deserters who had left us! But when he came nearer his
+face was as the face of a dead man, and a cold chill came over us. His
+eyes, which were cast down, flickered under the thin eyelids in which
+all the veins were visible. His face was gray like that of the dying.
+'Is he dead?' I said. But, except M. le Cure, no one knew that I spoke.
+
+'Not even so,' said M. le Cure, with a mortification in his voice, which
+I have never forgotten. 'Not even so. That might be something. They
+teach us not by angels--by the fools and offscourings of the earth.'
+
+And he would have turned away. It was a humiliation. Was not he the
+representative of the Unseen, the vice-gerent, with power over heaven
+and hell? but something was here more strong than he. He stood by my
+side in spite of himself to listen to the ambassador. I will not deny
+that such a choice was strange, strange beyond measure, to me also.
+
+'Lecamus,' I said, my voice trembling in my throat, 'have you been among
+the dead, and do you live?'
+
+'I live,' he said; then looked around with tears upon the crowd. 'Good
+neighbours, good friends,' he said, and put out his hand and touched
+them; he was as much agitated as they.
+
+'M. Lecamus,' said I, 'we are here in very strange circumstances, as you
+know; do not trifle with us. If you have indeed been with those who have
+taken the control of our city, do not keep us in suspense. You will see
+by the emblems of my office that it is to me you must address yourself;
+if you have a mission, speak.'
+
+'It is just,' he said, 'it is just--but bear with me one moment. It is
+good to behold those who draw breath; if I have not loved you enough, my
+good neighbours, forgive me now!'
+
+'Rouse yourself, Lecamus,' said I with some anxiety. 'Three days we have
+been suffering here; we are distracted with the suspense. Tell us your
+message--if you have anything to tell.'
+
+'Three days!' he said, wondering; 'I should have said years. Time is
+long when there is neither night nor day.' Then, uncovering himself, he
+turned towards the city. 'They who have sent me would have you know that
+they come, not in anger but in friendship: for the love they bear you,
+and because it has been permitted----'
+
+As he spoke his feebleness disappeared. He held his head high; and we
+clustered closer and closer round him, not losing a half word, not a
+tone, not a breath.
+
+'They are not the dead. They are the immortal. They are those who
+dwell--elsewhere. They have other work, which has been interrupted
+because of this trial. They ask, "Do you know now--do you know now?"
+this is what I am bidden to say.'
+
+'What'--I said (I tried to say it, but my lips were dry), 'What would
+they have us to know?'
+
+But a clamour interrupted me. 'Ah! yes, yes, yes!' the people cried, men
+and women; some wept aloud, some signed themselves, some held up their
+hands to the skies. 'Nevermore will we deny religion,' they cried,
+'never more fail in our duties. They shall see how we will follow every
+office, how the churches shall be full, how we will observe the feasts
+and the days of the saints! M. Lecamus,' cried two or three together;
+'go, tell these Messieurs that we will have masses said for them, that
+we will obey in everything. We have seen what comes of it when a city is
+without piety. Never more will we neglect the holy functions; we will
+vow ourselves to the holy Mother and the saints--'
+
+'And if those ladies wish it,' cried Jacques Richard, 'there shall be as
+many masses as there are priests to say them in the Hospital of St.
+Jean.'
+
+'Silence, fellow!' I cried; 'is it for you to promise in the name of the
+Commune?' I was almost beside myself. 'M. Lecamus. is it for this that
+they have come?'
+
+His head had begun to droop again, and a dimness came over his face. 'Do
+I know?' he said. 'It was them I longed for, not to know their errand;
+but I have not yet said all. You are to send two--two whom you esteem
+the highest--to speak with them face to face.'
+
+Then at once there rose a tumult among the people--an eagerness which
+nothing could subdue. There was a cry that the ambassadors were already
+elected, and we were pushed forward, M. le Cure and myself, towards the
+gate. They would not hear us speak. 'We promise,' they cried, 'we
+promise everything; let us but get back.' Had it been to sacrifice us
+they would have done the same; they would have killed us in their
+passion, in order to return to their city--and afterwards mourned us and
+honoured us as martyrs. But for the moment they had neither ruth nor
+fear. Had it been they who were going to reason not with flesh and
+blood, it would have been different; but it was we, not they; and they
+hurried us on as not willing that a moment should be lost. I had to
+struggle, almost to fight, in order to provide them with a leader, which
+was indispensable, before I myself went away. For who could tell if we
+should ever come back? For a moment I hesitated, thinking that it might
+be well to invest M. de Bois-Sombre as my deputy with my scarf of
+office; but then I reflected that when a man goes to battle, when he
+goes to risk his life, perhaps to lose it, for his people, it is his
+right to bear those signs which distinguish him from common men, which
+show in what office, for what cause, he is ready to die.
+
+Accordingly I paused, struggling against the pressure of the people, and
+said in a loud voice, 'In the absence of M. Barbou, who has forsaken us,
+I constitute the excellent M. Felix de Bois-Sombre my representative. In
+my absence my fellow-citizens will respect and obey him as myself.'
+There was a cry of assent. They would have given their assent to
+anything that we might but go on. What was it to them? They took no
+thought of the heaving of my bosom, the beating of my heart. They left
+us on the edge of the darkness with our faces towards the gate. There we
+stood one breathless moment. Then the little postern slowly opened
+before us, and once more we stood within Semur.
+
+
+THE NARRATIVE OF PAUL LECAMUS.
+
+M. le Maire having requested me, on his entrance into Semur, to lose no
+time in drawing up an account of my residence in the town, to be placed
+with his own narrative, I have promised to do so to the best of my
+ability, feeling that my condition is a very precarious one, and my time
+for explanation may be short. Many things, needless to enumerate, press
+this upon my mind. It was a pleasure to me to see my neighbours when I
+first came out of the city; but their voices, their touch, their
+vehemence and eagerness wear me out. From my childhood up I have shrunk
+from close contact with my fellow-men. My mind has been busy with other
+thoughts; I have desired to investigate the mysterious and unseen. When
+I have walked abroad I have heard whispers in the air; I have felt the
+movement of wings, the gliding of unseen feet. To my comrades these have
+been a source of alarm and disquiet, but not to me; is not God in the
+unseen with all His angels? and not only so, but the best and wisest of
+men. There was a time indeed, when life acquired for me a charm. There
+was a smile which filled me with blessedness, and made the sunshine more
+sweet. But when she died my earthly joys died with her. Since then I
+have thought of little but the depths profound, into which she has
+disappeared like the rest.
+
+I was in the garden of my house on that night when all the others left
+Semur. I was restless, my mind was disturbed. It seemed to me that I
+approached the crisis of my life. Since the time when I led M. le Maire
+beyond the walls, and we felt both of us the rush and pressure of that
+crowd, a feeling of expectation had been in my mind. I knew not what I
+looked for--but something I looked for that should change the world.
+The 'Sommation' on the Cathedral doors did not surprise me. Why should
+it be a matter of wonder that the dead should come back? the wonder is
+that they do not. Ah! that is the wonder. How one can go away who loves
+you, and never return, nor speak, nor send any message--that is the
+miracle: not that the heavens should bend down and the gates of Paradise
+roll back, and those who have left us return. All my life it has been a
+marvel to me how they could be kept away. I could not stay in-doors on
+this strange night. My mind was full of agitation. I came out into the
+garden though it was dark. I sat down upon the bench under the
+trellis--she loved it. Often had I spent half the night there thinking
+of her.
+
+It was very dark that night: the sky all veiled, no light anywhere a
+night like November. One would have said there was snow in the air. I
+think I must have slept toward morning (I have observed throughout that
+the preliminaries of these occurrences have always been veiled in
+sleep), and when I woke suddenly it was to find myself, if I may so
+speak, the subject of a struggle. The struggle was within me, yet it was
+not I. In my mind there was a desire to rise from where I sat and go
+away, I could not tell where or why; but something in me said stay, and
+my limbs were as heavy as lead. I could not move; I sat still against my
+will; against one part of my will--but the other was obstinate and would
+not let me go. Thus a combat took place within me of which I knew not
+the meaning. While it went on I began to hear the sound of many feet,
+the opening of doors, the people pouring out into the streets. This gave
+me no surprise; it seemed to me that I understood why it was; only in my
+own case, I knew nothing. I listened to the steps pouring past, going on
+and on, faintly dying away in the distance, and there was a great
+stillness. I then became convinced, though I cannot tell how, that I was
+the only living man left in Semur; but neither did this trouble me. The
+struggle within me came to an end, and I experienced a great calm.
+
+I cannot tell how long it was till I perceived a change in the air, in
+the darkness round me. It was like the movement of some one unseen. I
+have felt such a sensation in the night, when all was still, before now.
+I saw nothing. I heard nothing. Yet I was aware, I cannot tell how, that
+there was a great coming and going, and the sensation as of a multitude
+in the air. I then rose and went into my house, where Leocadie, my old
+housekeeper, had shut all the doors so carefully when she went to bed.
+They were now all open, even the door of my wife's room of which I kept
+always the key, and where no one entered but myself; the windows also
+were open. I looked out upon the Grande Rue, and all the other houses
+were like mine. Everything was open, doors and windows, and the streets
+were full. There was in them a flow and movement of the unseen, without
+a sound, sensible only to the soul. I cannot describe it, for I neither
+heard nor saw, but felt. I have often been in crowds; I have lived in
+Paris, and once passed into England, and walked about the London
+streets. But never, it seemed to me, never was I aware of so many, of so
+great a multitude. I stood at my open window, and watched as in a dream.
+M. le Maire is aware that his house is visible from mine. Towards that a
+stream seemed to be always going, and at the windows and in the doorways
+was a sensation of multitudes like that which I have already described.
+Gazing out thus upon the revolution which was happening before my eyes,
+I did not think of my own house or what was passing there, till
+suddenly, in a moment, I was aware that some one had come in to me. Not
+a crowd as elsewhere; one. My heart leaped up like a bird let loose; it
+grew faint within me with joy and fear. I was giddy so that I could not
+stand. I called out her name, but low, for I was too happy, I had no
+voice. Besides was it needed, when heart already spoke to heart?
+
+I had no answer, but I needed none. I laid myself down on the floor
+where her feet would be. Her presence wrapped me round and round. It was
+beyond speech. Neither did I need to see her face, nor to touch her
+hand. She was more near to me, more near, than when I held her in my
+arms. How long it was so, I cannot tell; it was long as love, yet short
+as the drawing of a breath. I knew nothing, felt nothing but Her, alone;
+all my wonder and desire to know departed from me. We said to each other
+everything without words--heart overflowing into heart. It was beyond
+knowledge or speech.
+
+But this is not of public signification that I should occupy with it the
+time of M. le Maire.
+
+After a while my happiness came to an end. I can no more tell how, than
+I can tell how it came. One moment, I was warm in her presence; the
+next, I was alone. I rose up staggering with blindness and woe--could it
+be that already, already it was over? I went out blindly following after
+her. My God, I shall follow, I shall follow, till life is over. She
+loved me; but she was gone.
+
+Thus, despair came to me at the very moment when the longing of my soul
+was satisfied and I found myself among the unseen; but I cared for
+knowledge no longer, I sought only her. I lost a portion of my time so.
+I regret to have to confess it to M. le Maire. Much that I might have
+learned will thus remain lost to my fellow-citizens and the world. We
+are made so. What we desire eludes us at the moment of grasping it--or
+those affections which are the foundation of our lives preoccupy us, and
+blind the soul. Instead of endeavouring to establish my faith and
+enlighten my judgment as to those mysteries which have been my life-long
+study, all higher purpose departed from me; and I did nothing but rush
+through the city, groping among those crowds, seeing nothing, thinking
+of nothing--save of One.
+
+From this also I awakened as out of a dream. What roused me was the
+pealing of the Cathedral bells. I was made to pause and stand still, and
+return to myself. Then I perceived, but dimly, that the thing which had
+happened to me was that which I had desired all my life. I leave this
+explanation of my failure [Footnote: The reader will remember that the
+ringing of the Cathedral bells happened in fact very soon after the
+exodus of the citizens; so that the self-reproaches of M. Lecamus had
+less foundation than he thought.] in public duty to the charity of M. le
+Maire.
+
+The bells of the Cathedral brought me back to myself--to that which we
+call reality in our language; but of all that was around me when I
+regained consciousness, it now appeared to me that I only was a dream. I
+was in the midst of a world where all was in movement. What the current
+was which flowed around me I know not; if it was thought which becomes
+sensible among spirits, if it was action, I cannot tell. But the energy,
+the force, the living that was in them, that could no one misunderstand.
+I stood in the streets, lagging and feeble, scarcely able to wish, much
+less to think. They pushed against me, put me aside, took no note of me.
+In the unseen world described by a poet whom M. le Maire has probably
+heard of, the man who traverses Purgatory (to speak of no other place)
+is seen by all, and is a wonder to all he meets--his shadow, his breath
+separate him from those around him. But whether the unseen life has
+changed, or if it is I who am not worthy their attention, this I know
+that I stood in our city like a ghost, and no one took any heed of me.
+When there came back upon me slowly my old desire to inquire, to
+understand, I was met with this difficulty at the first--that no one
+heeded me. I went through and through the streets, sometimes I paused to
+look round, to implore that which swept by me to make itself known. But
+the stream went along like soft air, like the flowing of a river,
+setting me aside from time to time, as the air will displace a straw, or
+the water a stone, but no more. There was neither languor nor lingering.
+I was the only passive thing, the being without occupation. Would you
+have paused in your labours to tell an idle traveller the meaning of our
+lives, before the day when you left Semur? Nor would they: I was driven
+hither and thither by the current of that life, but no one stepped forth
+out of the unseen to hear my questions or to answer me how this might
+be.
+
+You have been made to believe that all was darkness in Semur. M. le
+Maire, it was not so. The darkness wrapped the walls as in a winding
+sheet; but within, soon after you were gone, there arose a sweet and
+wonderful light--a light that was neither of the sun nor of the moon;
+and presently, after the ringing of the bells; the silence departed as
+the darkness had departed. I began to hear, first a murmur, then the
+sound of the going which I had felt without hearing it--then a faint
+tinkle of voices--and at the last, as my mind grew attuned to these
+wonders, the very words they said. If they spoke in our language or in
+another, I cannot tell; but I understood. How long it was before the
+sensation of their presence was aided by the happiness of hearing I know
+not, nor do I know how the time has passed, or how long it is, whether
+years or days, that I have been in Semur with those who are now there;
+for the light did not vary--there was no night or day. All I know is
+that suddenly, on awakening from a sleep (for the wonder was that I
+could sleep, sometimes sitting on the Cathedral steps, sometimes in my
+own house; where sometimes also I lingered and searched about for the
+crusts that Leocadie had left), I found the whole world full of sound.
+They sang going in bands about the streets; they talked to each other
+as they went along every way. From the houses, all open, where everyone
+could go who would, there came the soft chiming of those voices. And at
+first every sound was full of gladness and hope. The song they sang
+first was like this: 'Send us, send us to our father's house. Many are
+our brethren, many and dear. They have forgotten, forgotten, forgotten!
+But when we speak, then will they hear.' And the others answered: 'We
+have come, we have come to the house of our fathers. Sweet are the
+homes, the homes we were born in. As we remember, so will they remember.
+When we speak, when we speak, they will hear.' Do not think that these
+were the words they sang; but it was like this. And as they sang there
+was joy and expectation everywhere. It was more beautiful than any of
+our music, for it was full of desire and longing, yet hope and gladness;
+whereas among us, where there is longing, it is always sad. Later a
+great singer, I know not who he was, one going past as on a majestic
+soft wind, sang another song, of which I shall tell you by and by. I do
+not think he was one of them. They came out to the windows, to the
+doors, into all the streets and byways to hear him as he went past.
+
+M. le Maire will, however, be good enough to remark that I did not
+understand all that I heard. In the middle of a phrase, in a word half
+breathed, a sudden barrier would rise. For a time I laboured after their
+meaning, trying hard and vainly to understand; but afterwards I
+perceived that only when they spoke of Semur, of you who were gone
+forth, and of what was being done, could I make it out. At first this
+made me only more eager to hear; but when thought came, then I perceived
+that of all my longing nothing was satisfied. Though I was alone with
+the unseen, I comprehended it not; only when it touched upon what I
+knew, then I understood.
+
+At first all went well. Those who were in the streets, and at the doors
+and windows of the houses, and on the Cathedral steps, where they seemed
+to throng, listening to the sounding of the bells, spoke only of this
+that they had come to do. Of you and you only I heard. They said to each
+other, with great joy, that the women had been instructed, that they had
+listened, and were safe. There was pleasure in all the city. The singers
+were called forth, those who were best instructed (so I judged from what
+I heard), to take the place of the warders on the walls; and all, as
+they went along, sang that song: 'Our brothers have forgotten; but when
+we speak, they will hear.' How was it, how was it that you did not hear?
+One time I was by the river porte in a boat; and this song came to me
+from the walls as sweet as Heaven. Never have I heard such a song. The
+music was beseeching, it moved the very heart. 'We have come out of the
+unseen,' they sang; 'for love of you; believe us, believe us! Love
+brings us back to earth; believe us, believe us!' How was it that you
+did not hear? When I heard those singers sing, I wept; they beguiled the
+heart out of my bosom. They sang, they shouted, the music swept about
+all the walls: 'Love brings us back to earth, believe us!' M. le Maire,
+I saw you from the river gate; there was a look of perplexity upon your
+face; and one put his curved hand to his ear as if to listen to some
+thin far-off sound, when it was like a storm, like a tempest of music!
+
+After that there was a great change in the city. The choirs came back
+from the walls marching more slowly, and with a sighing through all the
+air. A sigh, nay, something like a sob breathed through the streets.
+'They cannot hear us, or they will not hear us.' Wherever I turned, this
+was what I heard: 'They cannot hear us.' The whole town, and all the
+houses that were teeming with souls, and all the street, where so many
+were coming and going was full of wonder and dismay. (If you will take
+my opinion, they know pain as well as joy, M. le Maire, Those who are
+in Semur. They are not as gods, perfect and sufficing to themselves, nor
+are they all-knowing and all-wise, like the good God. They hope like us,
+and desire, and are mistaken; but do no wrong. This is my opinion. I am
+no more than other men, that you should accept it without support; but I
+have lived among them, and this is what I think.) They were taken by
+surprise; they did not understand it any more than we understand when we
+have put forth all our strength and fail. They were confounded, if I
+could judge rightly. Then there arose cries from one to another: 'Do you
+forget what was said to us?' and, 'We were warned, we were warned.'
+There went a sighing over all the city: 'They cannot hear us, our voices
+are not as their voices; they cannot see us. We have taken their homes
+from them, and they know not the reason.' My heart was wrung for their
+disappointment. I longed to tell them that neither had I heard at once;
+but it was only after a time that I ventured upon this. And whether I
+spoke, and was heard; or if it was read in my heart, I cannot tell.
+There was a pause made round me as if of wondering and listening, and
+then, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, a face suddenly turned
+and looked into my face.
+
+M. le Maire, it was the face of your father, Martin Dupin, whom I
+remember as well as I remember my own father. He was the best man I ever
+knew. It appeared to me for a moment, that face alone, looking at me
+with questioning eyes.
+
+There seemed to be agitation and doubt for a time after this; some went
+out (so I understood) on embassies among you, but could get no hearing;
+some through the gates, some by the river. And the bells were rung that
+you might hear and know; but neither could you understand the bells. I
+wandered from one place to another, listening and watching--till the
+unseen became to me as the seen, and I thought of the wonder no more.
+Sometimes there came to me vaguely a desire to question them, to ask
+whence they came and what was the secret of their living, and why they
+were here? But if I had asked who would have heard me? and desire had
+grown faint in my heart; all I wished for was that you should hear, that
+you should understand; with this wish Semur was full. They thought but
+of this. They went to the walls in bands, each in their order, and as
+they came all the others rushed to meet them, to ask, 'What news?' I
+following, now with one, now with another, breathless and footsore as
+they glided along. It is terrible when flesh and blood live with those
+who are spirits. I toiled after them. I sat on the Cathedral steps, and
+slept and waked, and heard the voices still in my dream. I prayed, but
+it was hard to pray. Once following a crowd I entered your house, M. le
+Maire, and went up, though I scarcely could drag myself along. There
+many were assembled as in council. Your father was at the head of all.
+He was the one, he only, who knew me. Again he looked at me and I saw
+him, and in the light of his face an assembly such as I have seen in
+pictures. One moment it glimmered before me and then it was gone. There
+were the captains of all the bands waiting to speak, men and women. I
+heard them repeating from one to another the same tale. One voice was
+small and soft like a child's; it spoke of you. 'We went to him,' it
+said; and your father, M. le Maire, he too joined in, and said: 'We went
+to him--but he could not hear us.' And some said it was enough--that
+they had no commission from on high, that they were but permitted--that
+it was their own will to do it--and that the time had come to forbear.
+
+Now, while I listened, my heart was grieved that they should fail. This
+gave me a wound for myself who had trusted in them, and also for them.
+But I, who am I, a poor man without credit among my neighbours, a
+dreamer, one whom many despise, that I should come to their aid? Yet I
+could not listen and take no part. I cried out: 'Send me. I will tell
+them in words they understand.' The sound of my voice was like a roar in
+that atmosphere. It sent a tremble into the air. It seemed to rend me as
+it came forth from me, and made me giddy, so that I would have fallen
+had not there been a support afforded me. As the light was going out of
+my eyes I saw again the faces looking at each other, questioning,
+benign, beautiful heads one over another, eyes that were clear as the
+heavens, but sad. I trembled while I gazed: there was the bliss of
+heaven in their faces, yet they were sad. Then everything faded. I was
+led away, I know not how, and brought to the door and put forth. I was
+not worthy to see the blessed grieve. That is a sight upon which the
+angels look with awe, and which brings those tears which are salvation
+into the eyes of God.
+
+I went back to my house, weary yet calm. There were many in my house;
+but because my heart was full of one who was not there, I knew not those
+who were there. I sat me down where she had been. I was weary, more
+weary than ever before, but calm. Then I bethought me that I knew no
+more than at the first, that I had lived among the unseen as if they
+were my neighbours, neither fearing them, nor hearing those wonders
+which they have to tell. As I sat with my head in my hands, two talked
+to each other close by: 'Is it true that we have failed?' said one; and
+the other answered, 'Must not all fail that is not sent of the Father?'
+I was silent; but I knew them, they were the voices of my father and my
+mother. I listened as out of a faint, in a dream.
+
+While I sat thus, with these voices in my ears, which a little while
+before would have seemed to me more worthy of note than anything on
+earth, but which now lulled me and comforted me, as a child is comforted
+by the voices of its guardians in the night, there occurred a new thing
+in the city like nothing I had heard before. It roused me
+notwithstanding my exhaustion and stupor. It was the sound as of some
+one passing through the city suddenly and swiftly, whether in some
+wonderful chariot, whether on some sweeping mighty wind, I cannot tell.
+The voices stopped that were conversing beside me, and I stood up, and
+with an impulse I could not resist went out, as if a king were passing
+that way. Straight, without turning to the right or left, through the
+city, from one gate to another, this passenger seemed going; and as he
+went there was the sound as of a proclamation, as if it were a herald
+denouncing war or ratifying peace. Whosoever he was, the sweep of his
+going moved my hair like a wind. At first the proclamation was but as a
+great shout, and I could not understand it; but as he came nearer the
+words became distinct. 'Neither will they believe--though one rose from
+the dead.' As it passed a murmur went up from the city, like the voice
+of a great multitude. Then there came sudden silence.
+
+At this moment, for a time--M. le Maire will take my statement for what
+it is worth--I became unconscious of what passed further. Whether
+weariness overpowered me and I slept, as at the most terrible moment
+nature will demand to do, or if I fainted I cannot tell; but for a time
+I knew no more. When I came to myself, I was seated on the Cathedral
+steps with everything silent around me. From thence I rose up, moved by
+a will which was not mine, and was led softly across the Grande Rue,
+through the great square, with my face towards the Porte St. Lambert. I
+went steadily on without hesitation, never doubting that the gates would
+open to me, doubting nothing, though I had never attempted to withdraw
+from the city before. When I came to the gate I said not a word, nor any
+one to me; but the door rolled slowly open before me, and I was put
+forth into the morning light, into the shining of the sun. I have now
+said everything I had to say. The message I delivered was said through
+me, I can tell no more. Let me rest a little; figure to yourselves, I
+have known no night of rest, nor eaten a morsel of bread for--did you
+say it was but three days?
+
+
+M. LE MAIRE RESUMES HIS NARRATIVE.
+
+We re-entered by the door for foot-passengers which is by the side of
+the great Porte St. Lambert.
+
+I will not deny that my heart was, as one may say, in my throat. A man
+does what is his duty, what his fellow-citizens expect of him; but that
+is not to say that he renders himself callous to natural emotion. My
+veins were swollen, the blood coursing through them like a high-flowing
+river; my tongue was parched and dry. I am not ashamed to admit that
+from head to foot my body quivered and trembled. I was afraid--but I
+went forward; no man can do more. As for M. le Cure he said not a word.
+If he had any fears he concealed them as I did. But his occupation is
+with the ghostly and spiritual. To see men die, to accompany them to
+the verge of the grave, to create for them during the time of their
+suffering after death (if it is true that they suffer), an interest in
+heaven, this his profession must necessarily give him courage. My
+position is very different. I have not made up my mind upon these
+subjects. When one can believe frankly in all the Church says, many
+things become simple, which otherwise cause great difficulty in the
+mind. The mysterious and wonderful then find their natural place in the
+course of affairs; but when a man thinks for himself, and has to take
+everything on his own responsibility, and make all the necessary
+explanations, there is often great difficulty. So many things will not
+fit into their places, they straggle like weary men on a march. One
+cannot put them together, or satisfy one's self.
+
+The sun was shining outside the walls when we re-entered Semur; but the
+first step we took was into a gloom as black as night, which did not
+re-assure us, it is unnecessary to say. A chill was in the air, of night
+and mist. We shivered, not with the nerves only but with the cold. And
+as all was dark, so all was still. I had expected to feel the presence
+of those who were there, as I had felt the crowd of the invisible before
+they entered the city. But the air was vacant, there was nothing but
+darkness and cold. We went on for a little way with a strange fervour of
+expectation. At each moment, at each step, it seemed to me that some
+great call must be made upon my self-possession and courage, some event
+happen; but there was nothing. All was calm, the houses on either side
+of the way were open, all but the office of the _octroi_ which was black
+as night with its closed door. M. le Cure has told me since that he
+believed Them to be there, though unseen. This idea, however, was not in
+my mind. I had felt the unseen multitude; but here the air was free,
+there was no one interposing between us, who breathed as men, and the
+walls that surrounded us. Just within the gate a lamp was burning,
+hanging to its rope over our heads; and the lights were in the houses as
+if some one had left them there; they threw a strange glimmer into the
+darkness, flickering in the wind. By and by as we went on the gloom
+lessened, and by the time we had reached the Grande Rue, there was a
+clear steady pale twilight by which we saw everything, as by the light
+of day.
+
+We stood at the corner of the square and looked round. Although still I
+heard the beating of my own pulses loudly working in my ears, yet it was
+less terrible than at first. A city when asleep is wonderful to look on,
+but in all the closed doors and windows one feels the safety and repose
+sheltered there which no man can disturb; and the air has in it a sense
+of life, subdued, yet warm. But here all was open, and all deserted. The
+house of the miser Grosgain was exposed from the highest to the lowest,
+but nobody was there to search for what was hidden. The hotel de
+Bois-Sombre, with its great _porte-cochere,_ always so jealously closed;
+and my own house, which my mother and wife have always guarded so
+carefully, that no damp nor breath of night might enter, had every door
+and window wide open. Desolation seemed seated in all these empty
+places. I feared to go into my own dwelling. It seemed to me as if the
+dead must be lying within. _Bon Dieu!_ Not a soul, not a shadow; all
+vacant in this soft twilight; nothing moving, nothing visible. The great
+doors of the Cathedral were wide open, and every little entry. How
+spacious the city looked, how silent, how wonderful! There was room for
+a squadron to wheel in the great square, but not so much as a bird, not
+a dog; all pale and empty. We stood for a long time (or it seemed a long
+time) at the corner, looking right and left. We were afraid to make a
+step farther. We knew not what to do. Nor could I speak; there was much
+I wished to say, but something stopped my voice.
+
+At last M. le Cure found utterance. His voice so moved the silence, that
+at first my heart was faint with fear; it was hoarse, and the sound
+rolled round the great square like muffled thunder. One did not seem to
+know what strange faces might rise at the open windows, what terrors
+might appear. But all he said was, 'We are ambassadors in vain.'
+
+What was it that followed? My teeth chattered. I could not hear. It was
+as if 'in vain!--in vain!' came back in echoes, more and more distant
+from every opening. They breathed all around us, then were still, then
+returned louder from beyond the river. M. le Cure, though he is a
+spiritual person, was no more courageous than I. With one impulse, we
+put out our hands and grasped each other. We retreated back to back,
+like men hemmed in by foes, and I felt his heart beating wildly, and he
+mine. Then silence, silence settled all around.
+
+It was now my turn to speak. I would not be behind, come what might,
+though my lips were parched with mental trouble.
+
+I said, 'Are we indeed too late? Lecamus must have deceived himself.'
+
+To this there came no echo and no reply, which would be a relief, you
+may suppose; but it was not so. It was well-nigh more appalling, more
+terrible than the sound; for though we spoke thus, we did not believe
+the place was empty. Those whom we approached seemed to be wrapping
+themselves in silence, invisible, waiting to speak with some awful
+purpose when their time came.
+
+There we stood for some minutes, like two children, holding each other's
+hands, leaning against each other at the corner of the square--as
+helpless as children, waiting for what should come next. I say it
+frankly, my brain and my heart were one throb. They plunged and beat so
+wildly that I could scarcely have heard any other sound. In this respect
+I think he was more calm. There was on his face that look of intense
+listening which strains the very soul. But neither he nor I heard
+anything, not so much as a whisper. At last, 'Let us go on,' I said. We
+stumbled as we went, with agitation and fear. We were afraid to turn our
+backs to those empty houses, which seemed to gaze at us with all their
+empty windows pale and glaring. Mechanically, scarce knowing what I was
+doing, I made towards my own house.
+
+There was no one there. The rooms were all open and empty. I went from
+one to another, with a sense of expectation which made my heart faint;
+but no one was there, nor anything changed. Yet I do wrong to say that
+nothing was changed. In my library, where I keep my books, where my
+father and grandfather conducted their affairs, like me, one little
+difference struck me suddenly, as if some one had dealt me a blow. The
+old bureau which my grandfather had used, at which I remember standing
+by his knee, had been drawn from the corner where I had placed it out
+of the way (to make room for the furniture I preferred), and replaced,
+as in old times, in the middle of the room. It was nothing; yet how much
+was in this! though only myself could have perceived it. Some of the old
+drawers were open, full of old papers. I glanced over there in my
+agitation, to see if there might be any writing, any message addressed
+to me; but there was nothing, nothing but this silent sign of those who
+had been here. Naturally M. le Cure, who kept watch at the door, was
+unacquainted with the cause of my emotion. The last room I entered was
+my wife's. Her veil was lying on the white bed, as if she had gone out
+that moment, and some of her ornaments were on the table. It seemed to
+me that the atmosphere of mystery which filled the rest of the house was
+not here. A ribbon, a little ring, what nothings are these? Yet they
+make even emptiness sweet. In my Agnes's room there is a little shrine,
+more sacred to us than any altar. There is the picture of our little
+Marie. It is covered with a veil, embroidered with needlework which it
+is a wonder to see. Not always can even Agnes bear to look upon the face
+of this angel, whom God has taken from her. She has worked the little
+curtain with lilies, with white and virginal flowers; and no hand, not
+even mine, ever draws it aside. What did I see? The veil was boldly
+folded away; the face of the child looked at me across her mother's bed,
+and upon the frame of the picture was laid a branch of olive, with
+silvery leaves. I know no more but that I uttered a great cry, and flung
+myself upon my knees before this angel-gift. What stranger could know
+what was in my heart? M. le Cure, my friend, my brother, came hastily to
+me, with a pale countenance; but when he looked at me, he drew back and
+turned away his face, and a sob came from his breast. Never child had
+called him father, were it in heaven, were it on earth. Well I knew
+whose tender fingers had placed the branch of olive there.
+
+I went out of the room and locked the door. It was just that my wife
+should find it where it had been laid.
+
+I put my arm into his as we went out once more into the street. That
+moment had made us brother and brother. And this union made us more
+strong. Besides, the silence and the emptiness began to grow less
+terrible to us. We spoke in our natural voices as we came out, scarcely
+knowing how great was the difference between them and the whispers which
+had been all we dared at first to employ. Yet the sound of these louder
+tones scared us when we heard them, for we were still trembling, not
+assured of deliverance. It was he who showed himself a man, not I; for
+my heart was overwhelmed, the tears stood in my eyes, I had no strength
+to resist my impressions.
+
+'Martin Dupin,' he said suddenly, 'it is enough. We are frightening
+ourselves with shadows. We are afraid even of our own voices. This must
+not be. Enough! Whosoever they were who have been in Semur, their
+visitation is over, and they are gone.'
+
+'I think so,' I said faintly; 'but God knows.' Just then something
+passed me as sure as ever man passed me. I started back out of the way
+and dropped my friend's arm, and covered my eyes with my hands. It was
+nothing that could be seen; it was an air, a breath. M. le Cure looked
+at me wildly; he was as a man beside himself. He struck his foot upon
+the pavement and gave a loud and bitter cry.
+
+'Is it delusion?' he said, 'O my God! or shall not even this, not even
+so much as this be revealed to me?'
+
+To see a man who had so ruled himself, who had resisted every
+disturbance and stood fast when all gave way, moved thus at the very
+last to cry out with passion against that which had been denied to him,
+brought me back to myself. How often had I read it in his eyes before!
+He--the priest--the servant of the unseen--yet to all of us lay persons
+had that been revealed which was hid from him. A great pity was within
+me, and gave me strength. 'Brother,' I said, 'we are weak. If we saw
+heaven opened, could we trust to our vision now? Our imaginations are
+masters of us. So far as mortal eye can see, we are alone in Semur. Have
+you forgotten your psalm, and how you sustained us at the first? And
+now, your Cathedral is open to you, my brother. _Laetatus sum_,' I said.
+It was an inspiration from above, and no thought of mine; for it is well
+known, that though deeply respectful, I have never professed religion.
+With one impulse we turned, we went together, as in a procession, across
+the silent place, and up the great steps. We said not a word to each
+other of what we meant to do. All was fair and silent in the holy place;
+a breath of incense still in the air; a murmur of psalms (as one could
+imagine) far up in the high roof. There I served, while he said his
+mass. It was for my friend that this impulse came to my mind; but I was
+rewarded. The days of my childhood seemed to come back to me. All
+trouble, and care, and mystery, and pain, seemed left behind. All I
+could see was the glimmer on the altar of the great candle-sticks, the
+sacred pyx in its shrine, the chalice, and the book. I was again an
+_enfant de choeur_ robed in white, like the angels, no doubt, no
+disquiet in my soul--and my father kneeling behind among the faithful,
+bowing his head, with a sweetness which I too knew, being a father,
+because it was his child that tinkled the bell and swung the censer.
+Never since those days have I served the mass. My heart grew soft within
+me as the heart of a little child. The voice of M. le Cure was full of
+tears--it swelled out into the air and filled the vacant place. I knelt
+behind him on the steps of the altar and wept.
+
+Then there came a sound that made our hearts leap in our bosoms. His
+voice wavered as if it had been struck by a strong wind; but he was a
+brave man, and he went on. It was the bells of the Cathedral that pealed
+out over our heads. In the midst of the office, while we knelt all
+alone, they began to ring as at Easter or some great festival. At first
+softly, almost sadly, like choirs of distant singers, that died away and
+were echoed and died again; then taking up another strain, they rang out
+into the sky with hurrying notes and clang of joy. The effect upon
+myself was wonderful. I no longer felt any fear. The illusion was
+complete. I was a child again, serving the mass in my little
+surplice--aware that all who loved me were kneeling behind, that the
+good God was smiling, and the Cathedral bells ringing out their majestic
+Amen.
+
+M. le Cure came down the altar steps when his mass was ended. Together
+we put away the vestments and the holy vessels. Our hearts were soft;
+the weight was taken from them. As we came out the bells were dying
+away in long and low echoes, now faint, now louder, like mingled voices
+of gladness and regret. And whereas it had been a pale twilight when we
+entered, the clearness of the day had rolled sweetly in, and now it was
+fair morning in all the streets. We did not say a word to each other,
+but arm and arm took our way to the gates, to open to our neighbours, to
+call all our fellow-citizens back to Semur.
+
+If I record here an incident of another kind, it is because of the
+sequel that followed. As we passed by the hospital of St. Jean, we heard
+distinctly, coming from within, the accents of a feeble yet impatient
+voice. The sound revived for a moment the troubles that were stilled
+within us--but only for a moment. This was no visionary voice. It
+brought a smile to the grave face of M. le Cure and tempted me well nigh
+to laughter, so strangely did this sensation of the actual, break and
+disperse the visionary atmosphere. We went in without any timidity,
+with a conscious relaxation of the great strain upon us. In a little
+nook, curtained off from the great ward, lay a sick man upon his bed.
+'Is it M. le Maire?' he said; 'a la bonne heure! I have a complaint to
+make of the nurses for the night. They have gone out to amuse
+themselves; they take no notice of poor sick people. They have known for
+a week that I could not sleep; but neither have they given me a sleeping
+draught, nor endeavoured to distract me with cheerful conversation. And
+to-day, look you, M. le Maire, not one of the sisters has come near me!'
+
+'Have you suffered, my poor fellow?' I said; but he would not go so far
+as this.
+
+'I don't want to make complaints, M. le Maire; but the sisters do not
+come themselves as they used to do. One does not care to have a strange
+nurse, when one knows that if the sisters did their duty--But if it does
+not occur any more I do not wish it to be thought that I am the one to
+complain.'
+
+'Do not fear, mon ami,' I said. 'I will say to the Reverend Mother that
+you have been left too long alone.'
+
+'And listen, M. le Maire,' cried the man; 'those bells, will they never
+be done? My head aches with the din they make. How can one go to sleep
+with all that riot in one's ears?'
+
+We looked at each other, we could not but smile. So that which is joy
+and deliverance to one is vexation to another. As we went out again into
+the street the lingering music of the bells died out, and (for the first
+time for all these terrible days and nights) the great clock struck the
+hour. And as the clock struck, the last cloud rose like a mist and
+disappeared in flying vapours, and the full sunshine of noon burst on
+Semur.
+
+
+SUPPLEMENT BY M. DE BOIS-SOMBRE.
+
+When M. le Maire disappeared within the mist, we all remained behind
+with troubled hearts. For my own part I was alarmed for my friend. M.
+Martin Dupin is not noble. He belongs, indeed, to the _haute
+bourgeoisie,_ and all his antecedents are most respectable; but it is
+his personal character and admirable qualities which justify me in
+calling him my friend. The manner in which he has performed his duties
+to his fellow-citizens during this time of distress has been sublime. It
+is not my habit to take any share in public life; the unhappy
+circumstances of France have made this impossible for years.
+Nevertheless, I put aside my scruples when it became necessary, to leave
+him free for his mission. I gave no opinion upon that mission itself,
+or how far he was right in obeying the advice of a hare-brained
+enthusiast like Lecamus. Nevertheless the moment had come at which our
+banishment had become intolerable. Another day, and I should have
+proposed an assault upon the place. Our dead forefathers, though I would
+speak of them with every respect, should not presume upon their
+privilege. I do not pretend to be braver than other men, nor have I
+shown myself more equal than others to cope with the present emergency.
+But I have the impatience of my countrymen, and rather than rot here
+outside the gates, parted from Madame de Bois-Sombre and my children,
+who, I am happy to state, are in safety at the country house of the
+brave Dupin, I should have dared any hazard. This being the case, a new
+step of any kind called for my approbation, and I could not refuse under
+the circumstances--especially as no ceremony of installation was
+required or profession of loyalty to one government or another--to take
+upon me the office of coadjutor and act as deputy for my friend Martin
+outside the walls of Semur.
+
+The moment at which I assumed the authority was one of great
+discouragement and depression. The men were tired to death. Their minds
+were worn out as well as their bodies. The excitement and fatigue had
+been more than they could bear. Some were for giving up the contest and
+seeking new homes for themselves. These were they, I need not remark,
+who had but little to lose; some seemed to care for nothing but to lie
+down and rest. Though it produced a great movement among us when Lecamus
+suddenly appeared coming out of the city; and the undertaking of Dupin
+and the excellent Cure was viewed with great interest, yet there could
+not but be signs apparent that the situation had lasted too long. It was
+_tendu_ in the strongest degree, and when that is the case a reaction
+must come. It is impossible to say, for one thing, how treat was our
+personal discomfort. We were as soldiers campaigning without a
+commissariat, or any precautions taken for our welfare; no food save
+what was sent to us from La Clairiere and other places; no means of
+caring for our personal appearance, in which lies so much of the
+materials of self respect. I say nothing of the chief features of
+all--the occupation of our homes by others--the forcible expulsion of
+which we had been the objects. No one could have been more deeply
+impressed than myself at the moment of these extraordinary proceedings;
+but we cannot go on with one monotonous impression, however serious, we
+other Frenchmen. Three days is a very long time to dwell in one thought;
+I myself had become impatient, I do not deny. To go away, which would
+have been very natural, and which Agathe proposed, was contrary to my
+instincts and interests both. I trust I can obey the logic of
+circumstances as well as another; but to yield is not easy, and to leave
+my hotel at Semur--now the chief residence, alas! of the
+Bois-Sombres--probably to the licence of a mob--for one can never tell
+at what moment Republican institutions may break down and sink back into
+the chaos from which they arose--was impossible. Nor would I forsake the
+brave Dupin without the strongest motive; but that the situation was
+extremely _tendu_, and a reaction close at hand, was beyond dispute.
+
+I resisted the movement which my excellent friend made to take off and
+transfer to me his scarf of office. These things are much thought of
+among the _bourgeoisie_. '_Mon ami_,' I said, 'you cannot tell what use
+you may have for it; whereas our townsmen know me, and that I am not one
+to take up an unwarrantable position.' We then accompanied him to the
+neighbourhood of the Porte St. Lambert. It was at that time invisible;
+we could but judge approximately. My men were unwilling to approach too
+near, neither did I myself think it necessary. We parted, after giving
+the two envoys an honourable escort, leaving a clear space between us
+and the darkness. To see them disappear gave us all a startling
+sensation. Up to the last moment I had doubted whether they would obtain
+admittance. When they disappeared from our eyes, there came upon all of
+us an impulse of alarm. I myself was so far moved by it, that I called
+out after them in a sudden panic. For if any catastrophe had happened,
+how could I ever have forgiven myself, especially as Madame Dupin de la
+Clairiere, a person entirely _comme il faut_, and of the most
+distinguished character, went after her husband, with a touching
+devotion, following him to the very edge of the darkness? I do not
+think, so deeply possessed was he by his mission, that he saw her. Dupin
+is very determined in his way; but he is imaginative and thoughtful, and
+it is very possible that, as he required all his powers to brace him for
+this enterprise, he made it a principle neither to look to the right
+hand nor the left. When we paused, and following after our two
+representatives, Madame Dupin stepped forth, a thrill ran through us
+all. Some would have called to her, for I heard many broken
+exclamations; but most of us were too much startled to speak. We thought
+nothing less than that she was about to risk herself by going after them
+into the city. If that was her intention--and nothing is more probable;
+for women are very daring, though they are timid--she was stopped, it is
+most likely, by that curious inability to move a step farther which we
+have all experienced. We saw her pause, clasp her hands in despair (or
+it might be in token of farewell to her husband), then, instead of
+returning, seat herself on the road on the edge of the darkness. It was
+a relief to all who were looking on to see her there.
+
+In the reaction after that excitement I found myself in face of a great
+difficulty--what to do with my men, to keep them from demoralisation.
+They were greatly excited; and yet there was nothing to be done for
+them, for myself, for any of us, but to wait. To organise the patrol
+again, under the circumstances, would have been impossible. Dupin,
+perhaps, might have tried it with that _bourgeois_ determination which
+so often carries its point in spite of all higher intelligence; but to
+me, who have not this commonplace way of looking at things, it was
+impossible. The worthy soul did not think in what a difficulty he left
+us. That intolerable, good-for-nothing Jacques Richard (whom Dupin
+protects unwisely, I cannot tell why), and who was already
+half-seas-over, had drawn several of his comrades with him towards the
+_cabaret_, which was always a danger to us. 'We will drink success to M.
+le Maire,' he said, '_mes bons amis_! That can do no one any harm; and
+as we have spoken up, as we have empowered him to offer handsome terms
+to _Messieurs les Morts_----'
+
+It was intolerable. Precisely at the moment when our fortune hung in the
+balance, and when, perhaps, an indiscreet word--'Arrest that fellow,' I
+said. 'Riou, you are an official; you understand your duty. Arrest him
+on the spot, and confine him in the tent out of the way of mischief. Two
+of you mount guard over him. And let a party be told off, of which you
+will take the command, Louis Bertin, to go at once to La Clairiere and
+beg the Reverend Mothers of the hospital to favour us with their
+presence. It will be well to have those excellent ladies in our front
+whatever happens; and you may communicate to them the unanimous decision
+about their chapel. You, Robert Lemaire, with an escort, will proceed to
+the _campagne_ of M. Barbou, and put him in possession of the
+circumstances. Those of you who have a natural wish to seek a little
+repose will consider yourselves as discharged from duty and permitted to
+do so. Your Maire having confided to me his authority--not without your
+consent--(this I avow I added with some difficulty, for who cared for
+their assent? but a Republican Government offers a premium to every
+insincerity), I wait with confidence to see these dispositions carried
+out.'
+
+This, I am happy to say, produced the best effect. They obeyed me
+without hesitation; and, fortunately for me, slumber seized upon the
+majority. Had it not been for this, I can scarcely tell how I should
+have got out of it. I felt drowsy myself, having been with the patrol
+the greater part of the night; but to yield to such weakness was, in my
+position, of course impossible.
+
+This, then, was our attitude during the last hours of suspense, which
+were perhaps the most trying of all. In the distance might be seen the
+little bands marching towards La Clairiere, on one side, and M. Barbou's
+country-house ('La Corbeille des Raisins') on the other. It goes without
+saying that I did not want M. Barbou, but it was the first errand I
+could think of. Towards the city, just where the darkness began that
+enveloped it, sat Madame Dupin. That _sainte femme_ was praying for her
+husband, who could doubt? And under the trees, wherever they could find
+a favourable spot, my men lay down on the grass, and most of them fell
+asleep. My eyes were heavy enough, but responsibility drives away rest.
+I had but one nap of five minutes' duration, leaning against a tree,
+when it occurred to me that Jacques Richard, whom I sent under escort
+half-drunk to the tent, was not the most admirable companion for that
+poor visionary Lecamus, who had been accommodated there. I roused
+myself, therefore, though unwillingly, to see whether these two, so
+discordant, could agree.
+
+I met Lecamus at the tent-door. He was coming out, very feeble and
+tottering, with that dazed look which (according to me) has always been
+characteristic of him. He had a bundle of papers in his hand. He had
+been setting in order his report of what had happened to him, to be
+submitted to the Maire. 'Monsieur,' he said, with some irritation
+(which I forgave him), 'you have always been unfavourable to me. I owe
+it to you that this unhappy drunkard has been sent to disturb me in my
+feebleness and the discharge of a public duty.'
+
+'My good Monsieur Lecamus,' said I, 'you do my recollection too much
+honour. The fact is, I had forgotten all about you and your public duty.
+Accept my excuses. Though indeed your supposition that I should have
+taken the trouble to annoy you, and your description of that
+good-for-nothing as an unhappy drunkard, are signs of intolerance which
+I should not have expected in a man so favoured.'
+
+This speech, though too long, pleased me, for a man of this species, a
+revolutionary (are not all visionaries revolutionaries?) is always, when
+occasion offers, to be put down. He disarmed me, however, by his
+humility. He gave a look round. 'Where can I go?' he said, and there was
+pathos in his voice. At length he perceived Madame Dupin sitting almost
+motionless on the road. 'Ah!' he said, 'there is my place.' The man, I
+could not but perceive, was very weak. His eyes were twice their natural
+size, his face was the colour of ashes; through his whole frame there
+was a trembling; the papers shook in his hand. A compunction seized my
+mind: I regretted to have sent that piece of noise and folly to disturb
+a poor man so suffering and weak. 'Monsieur Lecamus,' I said, 'forgive
+me. I acknowledge that it was inconsiderate. Remain here in comfort, and
+I will find for this unruly fellow another place of confinement.'
+
+'Nay,' he said, 'there is my place,' pointing to where Madame Dupin sat.
+I felt disposed for a moment to indulge in a pleasantry, to say that I
+approved his taste; but on second thoughts I forebore. He went tottering
+slowly across the broken ground, hardly able to drag himself along. 'Has
+he had any refreshment?' I asked of one of the women who were about.
+They told me yes, and this restored my composure; for after all I had
+not meant to annoy him, I had forgotten he was there--a trivial fault in
+circumstances so exciting. I was more easy in my mind, however, I
+confess it, when I saw that he had reached his chosen position safely.
+The man looked so weak. It seemed to me that he might have died on the
+road.
+
+I thought I could almost perceive the gate, with Madame Dupin seated
+under the battlements, her charming figure relieved against the gloom,
+and that poor Lecamus lying, with his papers fluttering at her feet.
+This was the last thing I was conscious of.
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM THE NARRATIVE OF MADAME DUPIN DE LA CLAIRIERE (_nee_ DE
+CHAMPFLEURIE).
+
+I went with my husband to the city gate. I did not wish to distract his
+mind from what he had undertaken, therefore I took care he should not
+see me; but to follow close, giving the sympathy of your whole heart,
+must not that be a support? If I am asked whether I was content to let
+him go, I cannot answer yes; but had another than Martin been chosen, I
+could not have borne it. What I desired, was to go myself. I was not
+afraid: and if it had proved dangerous, if I had been broken and crushed
+to pieces between the seen and the unseen, one could not have had a
+more beautiful fate. It would have made me happy to go. But perhaps it
+was better that the messenger should not be a woman; they might have
+said it was delusion, an attack of the nerves. We are not trusted in
+these respects, though I find it hard to tell why.
+
+But I went with Martin to the gate. To go as far as was possible, to be
+as near as possible, that was something. If there had been room for me
+to pass, I should have gone, and with such gladness! for God He knows
+that to help to thrust my husband into danger, and not to share it, was
+terrible to me. But no; the invisible line was still drawn, beyond which
+I could not stir. The door opened before him, and closed upon me. But
+though to see him disappear into the gloom was anguish, yet to know that
+he was the man by whom the city should be saved was sweet. I sat down on
+the spot where my steps were stayed. It was close to the wall, where
+there is a ledge of stonework round the basement of the tower. There I
+sat down to wait till he should come again.
+
+If any one thinks, however, that we, who were under the shelter of the
+roof of La Clairiere were less tried than our husbands, it is a mistake;
+our chief grief was that we were parted from them, not knowing what
+suffering, what exposure they might have to bear, and knowing that they
+would not accept, as most of us were willing to accept, the
+interpretation of the mystery; but there was a certain comfort in the
+fact that we had to be very busy, preparing a little food to take to
+them, and feeding the others. La Clairiere is a little country house,
+not a great chateau, and it was taxed to the utmost to afford some
+covert to the people. The children were all sheltered and cared for; but
+as for the rest of us we did as we could. And how gay they were, all the
+little ones! What was it to them all that had happened? It was a fete
+for them to be in the country, to be so many together, to run in the
+fields and the gardens. Sometimes their laughter and their happiness
+were more than we could bear. Agathe de Bois-Sombre, who takes life
+hardly, who is more easily deranged than I, was one who was much
+disturbed by this. But was it not to preserve the children that we were
+commanded to go to La Clairiere? Some of the women also were not easy to
+bear with. When they were put into our rooms they too found it a fete,
+and sat down among the children, and ate and drank, and forgot what it
+was; what awful reason had driven us out of our homes. These were not,
+oh let no one think so! the majority; but there were some, it cannot be
+denied; and it was difficult for me to calm down Bonne Maman, and keep
+her from sending them away with their babes. 'But they are
+_miserables_,' she said. 'If they were to wander and be lost, if they
+were to suffer as thou sayest, where would be the harm? I have no
+patience with the idle, with those who impose upon thee.' It is possible
+that Bonne Maman was right--but what then? 'Preserve the children and
+the sick,' was the mission that had been given to me. My own room was
+made the hospital. Nor did this please Bonne Maman. She bid me if I did
+not stay in it myself to give it to the Bois-Sombres, to some who
+deserved it. But is it not they who need most who deserve most? Bonne
+Maman cannot bear that the poor and wretched should live in her Martin's
+chamber. He is my Martin no less. But to give it up to our Lord is not
+that to sanctify it? There are who have put Him into their own bed when
+they imagined they were but sheltering a sick beggar there; that He
+should have the best was sweet to me: and could not I pray all the
+better that our Martin should be enlightened, should come to the true
+sanctuary? When I said this Bonne Maman wept. It was the grief of her
+heart that Martin thought otherwise than as we do. Nevertheless she
+said, 'He is so good; the _bon Dieu_ knows how good he is;' as if even
+his mother could know that so well as I!
+
+But with the women and the children crowding everywhere, the sick in my
+chamber, the helpless in every corner, it will be seen that we, too, had
+much to do. And our hearts were elsewhere, with those who were watching
+the city, who were face to face with those in whom they had not
+believed. We were going and coming all day long with food for them, and
+there never was a time of the night or day that there were not many of
+us watching on the brow of the hill to see if any change came in Semur.
+Agathe and I, and our children, were all together in one little room.
+She believed in God, but it was not any comfort to her; sometimes she
+would weep and pray all day long; sometimes entreat her husband to
+abandon the city, to go elsewhere and live, and fly from this strange
+fate. She is one who cannot endure to be unhappy--not to have what she
+wishes. As for me, I was brought up in poverty, and it is no wonder if
+I can more easily submit. She was not willing that I should come this
+morning to Semur. In the night the Mere Julie had roused us, saying she
+had seen a procession of angels coming to restore us to the city. Ah! to
+those who have no knowledge it is easy to speak of processions of
+angels. But to those who have seen what an angel is--how they flock upon
+us unawares in the darkness, so that one is confused, and scarce can
+tell if it is reality or a dream; to those who have heard a little voice
+soft as the dew coming out of heaven! I said to them--for all were in a
+great tumult--that the angels do not come in processions, they steal
+upon us unaware, they reveal themselves in the soul. But they did not
+listen to me; even Agathe took pleasure in hearing of the revelation. As
+for me, I had denied myself, I had not seen Martin for a night and a
+day. I took one of the great baskets, and I went with the women who were
+the messengers for the day. A purpose formed itself in my heart, it was
+to make my way into the city, I know not how, and implore them to have
+pity upon us before the people were distraught. Perhaps, had I been able
+to refrain from speaking to Martin, I might have found the occasion I
+wished; but how could I conceal my desire from my husband? And now all
+is changed, I am rejected and he is gone. He was more worthy. Bonne
+Maman is right. Our good God, who is our father, does He require that
+one should make profession of faith, that all should be alike? He sees
+the heart; and to choose my Martin, does not that prove that He loves
+best that which is best, not I, or a priest, or one who makes
+professions? Thus, I sat down at the gate with a great confidence,
+though also a trembling in my heart. He who had known how to choose him
+among all the others, would not He guard him? It was a proof to me once
+again that heaven is true, that the good God loves and comprehends us
+all, to see how His wisdom, which is unerring, had chosen the best man
+in Semur.
+
+And M. le Cure, that goes without saying, he is a priest of priests, a
+true servant of God.
+
+I saw my husband go: perhaps, God knows, into danger, perhaps to some
+encounter such as might fill the world with awe--to meet those who read
+the thought in your mind before it comes to your lips. Well! there is no
+thought in Martin that is not noble and true. Me, I have follies in my
+heart, every kind of folly; but he!--the tears came in a flood to my
+eyes, but I would not shed them, as if I were weeping for fear and
+sorrow--no--but for happiness to know that falsehood was not in him. My
+little Marie, a holy virgin, may look into her father's heart--I do not
+fear the test.
+
+The sun came warm to my feet as I sat on the foundation of our city, but
+the projection of the tower gave me a little shade. All about was a
+great peace. I thought of the psalm which says, 'He will give it to His
+beloved sleeping'--that is true; but always there are some who are used
+as instruments, who are not permitted to sleep. The sounds that came
+from the people gradually ceased; they were all very quiet. M. de
+Bois-Sombre I saw at a distance making his dispositions. Then M. Paul
+Lecamus, whom I had long known, came up across the field, and seated
+himself close to me upon the road. I have always had a great sympathy
+with him since the death of his wife; ever since there has been an
+abstraction in his eyes, a look of desolation. He has no children or any
+one to bring him back to life. Now, it seemed to me that he had the air
+of a man who was dying. He had been in the city while all of us had been
+outside.
+
+'Monsieur Lecamus,' I said, 'you look very ill, and this is not a place
+for you. Could not I take you somewhere, where you might be more at your
+ease?'
+
+'It is true, Madame,' he said, 'the road is hard, but the sunshine is
+sweet; and when I have finished what I am writing for M. le Maire, it
+will be over. There will be no more need--'
+
+I did not understand what he meant. I asked him to let me help him, but
+he shook his head. His eyes were very hollow, in great caves, and his
+face was the colour of ashes. Still he smiled. 'I thank you, Madame,' he
+said, 'infinitely; everyone knows that Madame Dupin is kind; but when it
+is done, I shall be free.'
+
+'I am sure, M. Lecamus, that my husband--that M. le Maire--would not
+wish you to trouble yourself, to be hurried--'
+
+'No,' he said, 'not he, but I. Who else could write what I have to
+write? It must be done while it is day.'
+
+'Then there is plenty of time, M. Lecamus. All the best of the day is
+yet to come; it is still morning. If you could but get as far as La
+Clairiere. There we would nurse you--restore you.'
+
+He shook his head. 'You have enough on your hands at La Clairiere,' he
+said; and then, leaning upon the stones, he began to write again with
+his pencil. After a time, when he stopped, I ventured to ask--'Monsieur
+Lecamus, is it, indeed, Those----whom we have known, who are in Semur?'
+
+He turned his dim eyes upon me. 'Does Madame Dupin,' he said, 'require
+to ask?'
+
+'No, no. It is true. I have seen and heard. But yet, when a little time
+passes, you know? one wonders; one asks one's self, was it a dream?'
+
+'That is what I fear,' he said. 'I, too, if life went on, might ask,
+notwithstanding all that has occurred to me, Was it a dream?'
+
+'M. Lecamus, you will forgive me if I hurt you. You saw--_her_?'
+
+'No. Seeing--what is seeing? It is but a vulgar sense, it is not all;
+but I sat at her feet. She was with me. We were one, as of old----.' A
+gleam of strange light came into his dim eyes. 'Seeing is not
+everything, Madame.'
+
+'No, M. Lecamus. I heard the dear voice of my little Marie.'
+
+'Nor is hearing everything,' he said hastily. 'Neither did she speak;
+but she was there. We were one; we had no need to speak. What is
+speaking or hearing when heart wells into heart? For a very little
+moment, only for a moment, Madame Dupin.'
+
+I put out my hand to him; I could not say a word. How was it possible
+that she could go away again, and leave him so feeble, so worn, alone?
+
+'Only a very little moment,' he said, slowly. 'There were other
+voices--but not hers. I think I am glad it was in the spirit we met, she
+and I--I prefer not to see her till--after----'
+
+'Oh, M. Lecamus, I am too much of the world! To see them, to hear
+them--it is for this I long.'
+
+'No, dear Madame. I would not have it till--after----. But I must make
+haste, I must write, I hear the hum approaching----'
+
+I could not tell what he meant; but I asked no more. How still
+everything was The people lay asleep on the grass, and I, too, was
+overwhelmed by the great quiet. I do not know if I slept, but I dreamed.
+I saw a child very fair and tall always near me, but hiding her face. It
+appeared to me in my dream that all I wished for was to see this hidden
+countenance, to know her name; and that I followed and watched her, but
+for a long time in vain. All at once she turned full upon me, held out
+her arms to me. Do I need to say who it was? I cried out in my dream to
+the good God, that He had done well to take her from me--that this was
+worth it all. Was it a dream? I would not give that dream for rears of
+waking life. Then I started and came back, in a moment, to the still
+morning sunshine, the sight of the men asleep, the roughness of the wall
+against which I leant. Some one laid a hand on mine. I opened my eyes,
+not knowing what it was--if it might be my husband coming back, or her
+whom I had seen in my dream. It was M. Lecamus. He had risen up upon his
+knees--his papers were all laid aside. His eyes in those hollow caves
+were opened wide, and quivering with a strange light. He had caught my
+wrist with his worn hand. 'Listen!' he said; his voice fell to a
+whisper; a light broke over his face. 'Listen!' he cried; 'they are
+coming.' While he thus grasped my wrist, holding up his weak and
+wavering body in that strained attitude, the moments passed very slowly.
+I was afraid of him, of his worn face and thin hands, and the wild
+eagerness about him. I am ashamed to say it, but so it was. And for this
+reason it seemed long to me, though I think not more than a minute, till
+suddenly the bells rang out, sweet and glad as they ring at Easter for
+the resurrection. There had been ringing of bells before, but not like
+this. With a start and universal movement the sleeping men got up from
+where they lay--not one but every one, coming out of the little hollows
+and from under the trees as if from graves. They all sprang up to
+listen, with one impulse; and as for me, knowing that Martin was in the
+city, can it be wondered at if my heart beat so loud that I was
+incapable of thought of others! What brought me to myself was the
+strange weight of M. Lecamus on my arm. He put his other hand upon me,
+all cold in the brightness, all trembling. He raised himself thus slowly
+to his feet. When I looked at him I shrieked aloud. I forgot all else.
+His face was transformed--a smile came upon it that was ineffable--the
+light blazed up, and then quivered and flickered in his eyes like a
+dying flame. All this time he was leaning his weight upon my arm. Then
+suddenly he loosed his hold of me, stretched out his hands, stood up,
+and--died. My God! shall I ever forget him as he stood--his head raised,
+his hands held out, his lips moving, the eyelids opened wide with a
+quiver, the light flickering and dying He died first, standing up,
+saying something with his pale lips--then fell. And it seemed to me all
+at once, and for a moment, that I heard a sound of many people marching
+past, the murmur and hum of a great multitude; and softly, softly I was
+put out of the way, and a voice said, '_Adieu, ma soeur_.' '_Ma soeur_!'
+who called me '_Ma soeur_'? I have no sister. I cried out, saying I know
+not what. They told me after that I wept and wrung my hands, and said,
+'Not thee, not thee, Marie!' But after that I knew no more.
+
+
+THE NARRATIVE of MADAME VEUVE DUPIN (_nee_ LEPELLETIER).
+
+To complete the _proces verbal_, my son wishes me to give my account of
+the things which happened out of Semur during its miraculous occupation,
+as it is his desire, in the interests of truth, that nothing should be
+left out. In this I find a great difficulty for many reasons; in the
+first place, because I have not the aptitude of expressing myself in
+writing, and it may well be that the phrases I employ may fail in the
+correctness which good French requires; and again, because it is my
+misfortune not to agree in all points with my Martin, though I am proud
+to think that he is, in every relation of life, so good a man, that the
+women of his family need not hesitate to follow his advice--but
+necessarily there are some points which one reserves; and I cannot but
+feel the closeness of the connection between the late remarkable
+exhibition of the power of Heaven and the outrage done upon the good
+Sisters of St. Jean by the administration, of which unfortunately my son
+is at the head. I say unfortunately, since it is the spirit of
+independence and pride in him which has resisted all the warnings
+offered by Divine Providence, and which refuses even now to right the
+wrongs of the Sisters of St. Jean; though, if it may be permitted to me
+to say it, as his mother, it was very fortunate in the late troubles
+that Martin Dupin found himself at the head of the Commune of
+Semur--since who else could have kept his self-control as he
+did?--caring for all things and forgetting nothing; who else would, with
+so much courage, have entered the city? and what other man, being a
+person of the world and secular in all his thoughts, as, alas! it is so
+common for men to be, would have so nobly acknowledged his obligations
+to the good God when our misfortunes were over? My constant prayers for
+his conversion do not make me incapable of perceiving the nobility of
+his conduct. When the evidence has been incontestible he has not
+hesitated to make a public profession of his gratitude, which all will
+acknowledge to be the sign of a truly noble mind and a heart of gold.
+
+I have long felt that the times were ripe for some exhibition of the
+power of God. Things have been going very badly among us. Not only have
+the powers of darkness triumphed over our holy church, in a manner ever
+to be wept and mourned by all the faithful, and which might have been
+expected to bring down fire from Heaven upon our heads, but the
+corruption of popular manners (as might also have been expected) has
+been daily arising to a pitch unprecedented. The fetes may indeed be
+said to be observed, but in what manner? In the cabarets rather than in
+the churches; and as for the fasts and vigils, who thinks of them? who
+attends to those sacred moments of penitence? Scarcely even a few ladies
+are found to do so, instead of the whole population, as in duty bound. I
+have even seen it happen that my daughter-in-law and myself, and her
+friend Madame de Bois-Sombre, and old Mere Julie from the market, have
+formed the whole congregation. Figure to yourself the _bon Dieu_ and all
+the blessed saints looking down from heaven to hear--four persons only
+in our great Cathedral! I trust that I know that the good God does not
+despise even two or three; but if any one will think of it--the great
+bells rung, and the candles lighted, and the cure in his beautiful
+robes, and all the companies of heaven looking on--and only us four!
+This shows the neglect of all sacred ordinances that was in Semur.
+While, on the other hand, what grasping there was for money; what fraud
+and deceit; what foolishness and dissipation! Even the Mere Julie
+herself, though a devout person, the pears she sold to us on the last
+market day before these events, were far, very far, as she must have
+known, from being satisfactory. In the same way Gros-Jean, though a
+peasant from our own village near La Clairiere, and a man for whom we
+have often done little services, attempted to impose upon me about the
+wood for the winter's use, the very night before these occurrences. 'It
+is enough,' I cried out, 'to bring the dead out of their graves.' I did
+not know--the holy saints forgive me!--how near it was to the moment
+when this should come true.
+
+And perhaps it is well that I should admit without concealment that I am
+not one of the women to whom it has been given to see those who came
+back. There are moments when I will not deny I have asked myself why
+those others should have been so privileged and never I. Not even in a
+dream do I see those whom I have lost; yet I think that I too have loved
+them as well as any have been loved. I have stood by their beds to the
+last; I have closed their beloved eyes. _Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!_ have not I
+drunk of that cup to the dregs? But never to me, never to me, has it
+been permitted either to see or to hear. _Bien_! it has been so ordered.
+Agnes, my daughter-in-law, is a good woman. I have not a word to say
+against her; and if there are moments when my heart rebels, when I ask
+myself why she should have her eyes opened and not I, the good God knows
+that I do not complain against His will--it is in His hand to do as He
+pleases. And if I receive no privileges, yet have I the privilege which
+is best, which is, as M. le Cure justly observes, the highest of all--
+that of doing my duty. In this I thank the good Lord our Seigneur that
+my Martin has never needed to be ashamed of his mother.
+
+I will also admit that when it was first made apparent to me--not by the
+sounds of voices which the others heard, but by the use of my reason
+which I humbly believe is also a gift of God--that the way in which I
+could best serve both those of the city and my son Martin, who is over
+them, was to lead the way with the children and all the helpless to La
+Clairiere, thus relieving the watchers, there was for a time a great
+struggle in my bosom. What were they all to me, that I should desert my
+Martin, my only son, the child of my old age; he who is as his father,
+as dear, and yet more dear, because he is his father's son? 'What! (I
+said in my heart) abandon thee, my child? nay, rather abandon life and
+every consolation; for what is life to me but thee?' But while my heart
+swelled with this cry, suddenly it became apparent to me how many there
+were holding up their hands helplessly to him, clinging to him so that
+he could not move. To whom else could they turn? He was the one among
+all who preserved his courage, who neither feared nor failed. When those
+voices rang out from the walls--which some understood, but which I did
+not understand, and many more with me--though my heart was wrung with
+straining my ears to listen if there was not a voice for me too, yet at
+the same time this thought was working in my heart. There was a poor
+woman close to me with little children clinging to her; neither did she
+know what those voices said. Her eyes turned from Semur, all lost in the
+darkness, to the sky above us and to me beside her, all confused and
+bewildered; and the children clung to her, all in tears, crying with
+that wail which is endless--the trouble of childhood which does not know
+why it is troubled. 'Maman! Maman!' they cried, 'let us go home.' 'Oh!
+be silent, my little ones,' said the poor woman; 'be silent; we will go
+to M. le Maire--he will not leave us without a friend.' It was then that
+I saw what my duty was. But it was with a pang--_bon Dieu!_--when I
+turned my back upon my Martin, when I went away to shelter, to peace,
+leaving my son thus in face of an offended Heaven and all the invisible
+powers, do you suppose it was a whole heart I carried in my breast? But
+no! it was nothing save a great ache--a struggle as of death. But what
+of that? I had my duty to do, as he had--and as he did not flinch, so
+did not I; otherwise he would have been ashamed of his mother--and I? I
+should have felt that the blood was not mine which ran in his veins.
+
+No one can tell what it was, that march to La Clairiere. Agnes at first
+was like an angel. I hope I always do Madame Martin justice. She is a
+saint. She is good to the bottom of her heart. Nevertheless, with those
+natures which are enthusiast--which are upborne by excitement--there is
+also a weakness. Though she was brave as the holy Pucelle when we set
+out, after a while she flagged like another. The colour went out of her
+face, and though she smiled still, yet the tears came to her eyes, and
+she would have wept with the other women, and with the wail of the
+weary children, and all the agitation, and the weariness, and the length
+of the way, had not I recalled her to herself. 'Courage!' I said to her.
+'Courage, _ma fille!_ We will throw open all the chambers. I will give
+up even that one in which my Martin Dupin, the father of thy husband,
+died.' '_Ma mere_,' she said, holding my hand to her bosom, 'he is not
+dead--he is in Semur.' Forgive me, dear Lord! It gave me a pang that she
+could see him and not I. 'For me,' I cried, 'it is enough to know that
+my good man is in heaven: his room, which I have kept sacred, shall be
+given up to the poor.' But oh! the confusion of the stumbling, weary
+feet; the little children that dropped by the way, and caught at our
+skirts, and wailed and sobbed; the poor mothers with babes upon each
+arm, with sick hearts and failing limbs. One cry seemed to rise round us
+as we went, each infant moving the others to sympathy, till it rose like
+one breath, a wail of 'Maman! Maman!' a cry that had no meaning,
+through having so much meaning. It was difficult not to cry out too in
+the excitement, in the labouring of the long, long, confused, and
+tedious way. 'Maman! Maman!' The Holy Mother could not but hear it. It
+is not possible but that she must have looked out upon us, and heard us,
+so helpless as we were, where she sits in heaven.
+
+When we got to La Clairiere we were ready to sink down with fatigue like
+all the rest--nay, even more than the rest, for we were not used to it,
+and for my part I had altogether lost the habitude of long walks. But
+then you could see what Madame Martin was. She is slight and fragile and
+pale, not strong, as any one can perceive; but she rose above the needs
+of the body. She was the one among us who rested not. We threw open all
+the rooms, and the poor people thronged in. Old Leontine, who is the
+_garde_ of the house, gazed upon us and the crowd whom we brought with
+us with great eyes full of fear and trouble. 'But, Madame,' she cried,
+'Madame!' following me as I went above to the better rooms. She pulled
+me by my robe. She pushed the poor women with their children away.
+'_Allez donc, allez_!--rest outside till these ladies have time to speak
+to you,' she said; and pulled me by my sleeve. Then 'Madame Martin is
+putting all this _canaille_ into our very chambers,' she cried. She had
+always distrusted Madame Martin, who was taken by the peasants for a
+clerical and a devote, because she was noble. 'The _bon Dieu_ be praised
+that Madame also is here, who has sense and will regulate everything.'
+'These are no _canaille,'_ I said: 'be silent, _ma bonne_ Leontine, here
+is something which you cannot understand. This is Semur which has come
+out to us for lodging.' She let the keys drop out of her hands. It was
+not wonderful if she was amazed. All day long she followed me about, her
+very mouth open with wonder. 'Madame Martin, that understands itself,'
+she would say. 'She is romanesque--she has imagination--but Madame,
+Madame has _bon sens_--who would have believed it of Madame?' Leontine
+had been my _femme de menage_ long before there was a Madame Martin,
+when my son was young; and naturally it was of me she still thought. But
+I cannot put down all the trouble we had ere we found shelter for every
+one. We filled the stables and the great barn, and all the cottages
+near; and to get them food, and to have something provided for those who
+were watching before the city, and who had no one but us to think of
+them, was a task which was almost beyond our powers. Truly it was beyond
+our powers--but the Holy Mother of heaven and the good angels helped us.
+I cannot tell to any one how it was accomplished, yet it was
+accomplished. The wail of the little ones ceased. They slept that first
+night as if they had been in heaven. As for us, when the night came, and
+the dews and the darkness, it seemed to us as if we were out of our
+bodies, so weary were we, so weary that we could not rest. From La
+Clairiere on ordinary occasions it is a beautiful sight to see the
+lights of Semur shining in all the high windows, and the streets
+throwing up a faint whiteness upon the sky; but how strange it was now
+to look down and see nothing but a darkness--a cloud, which was the
+city! The lights of the watchers in their camp were invisible to
+us,--they were so small and low upon the broken ground that we could not
+see them. Our Agnes crept close to me; we went with one accord to the
+seat before the door. We did not say 'I will go,' but went by one
+impulse, for our hearts were there; and we were glad to taste the
+freshness of the night and be silent after all our labours. We leant
+upon each other in our weariness. 'Ma mere,' she said, 'where is he now,
+our Martin?' and wept. 'He is where there is the most to do, be thou
+sure of that,' I cried, but wept not. For what did I bring him into the
+world but for this end?
+
+Were I to go day by day and hour by hour over that time of trouble, the
+story would not please any one. Many were brave and forgot their own
+sorrows to occupy themselves with those of others, but many also were
+not brave. There were those among us who murmured and complained. Some
+would contend with us to let them go and call their husbands, and leave
+the miserable country where such things could happen. Some would rave
+against the priests and the government, and some against those who
+neglected and offended the Holy Church. Among them there were those who
+did not hesitate to say it was our fault, though how we were answerable
+they could not tell. We were never at any time of the day or night
+without a sound of some one weeping or bewailing herself, as if she were
+the only sufferer, or crying out against those who had brought her here,
+far from all her friends. By times it seemed to me that I could bear it
+no longer, that it was but justice to turn those murmurers
+_(pleureuses)_ away, and let them try what better they could do for
+themselves. But in this point Madame Martin surpassed me. I do not
+grudge to say it. She was better than I was, for she was more patient.
+She wept with the weeping women, then dried her eyes and smiled upon
+them without a thought of anger--whereas I could have turned them to the
+door. One thing, however, which I could not away with, was that Agnes
+filled her own chamber with the poorest of the poor. 'How,' I cried,
+thyself and thy friend Madame de Bois-Sombre, were you not enough to
+fill it, that you should throw open that chamber to good-for-nothings,
+to _va-nu-pieds_, to the very rabble?' '_Ma mere,'_ said Madame Martin,
+'our good Lord died for them.' 'And surely for thee too, thou
+saint-imbecile!' I cried out in my indignation. What, my Martin's
+chamber which he had adorned for his bride! I was beside myself. And
+they have an obstinacy these enthusiasts! But for that matter her friend
+Madame de Bois-Sombre thought the same. She would have been one of the
+_pleureuses_ herself had it not been for shame. 'Agnes wishes to aid the
+_bon Dieu_, Madame,' she said, 'to make us suffer still a little more.'
+The tone in which she spoke, and the contraction in her forehead, as if
+our hospitality was not enough for her, turned my heart again to my
+daughter-in-law. 'You have reason, Madame,' I cried; 'there are indeed
+many ways in which Agnes does the work of the good God.' The
+Bois-Sombres are poor, they have not a roof to shelter them save that of
+the old hotel in Semur, from whence they were sent forth like the rest
+of us. And she and her children owed all to Agnes. Figure to yourself
+then my resentment when this lady directed her scorn at my
+daughter-in-law. I am not myself noble, though of the _haute
+bourgeoisie_, which some people think a purer race.
+
+Long and terrible were the days we spent in this suspense. For ourselves
+it was well that there was so much to do--the food to provide for all
+this multitude, the little children to care for, and to prepare the
+provisions for our men who were before Semur. I was in the Ardennes
+during the war, and I saw some of its perils--but these were nothing to
+what we encountered now. It is true that my son Martin was not in the
+war, which made it very different to me; but here the dangers were such
+as we could not understand, and they weighed upon our spirits. The seat
+at the door, and that point where the road turned, where there was
+always so beautiful a view of the valley and of the town of Semur--were
+constantly occupied by groups of poor people gazing at the darkness in
+which their homes lay. It was strange to see them, some kneeling and
+praying with moving lips; some taking but one look, not able to endure
+the sight. I was of these last. From time to time, whenever I had a
+moment, I came out, I know not why, to see if there was any change. But
+to gaze upon that altered prospect for hours, as some did, would have
+been intolerable to me. I could not linger nor try to imagine what might
+be passing there, either among those who were within (as was believed),
+or those who were without the walls. Neither could I pray as many did.
+My devotions of every day I will never, I trust, forsake or forget, and
+that my Martin was always in my mind is it needful to say? But to go
+over and over all the vague fears that were in me, and all those
+thoughts which would have broken my heart had they been put into words,
+I could not do this even to the good Lord Himself. When I suffered
+myself to think, my heart grew sick, my head swam round, the light went
+from my eyes. They are happy who can do so, who can take the _bon Dieu_
+into their confidence, and say all to Him; but me, I could not do it. I
+could not dwell upon that which was so terrible, upon my home abandoned,
+my son--Ah! now that it is past, it is still terrible to think of. And
+then it was all I was capable of, to trust my God and do what was set
+before me. God, He knows what it is we can do and what we cannot. I
+could not tell even to Him all the terror and the misery and the
+darkness there was in me; but I put my faith in Him. It was all of which
+I was capable. We are not made alike, neither in the body nor in the
+soul.
+
+And there were many women like me at La Clairiere. When we had done each
+piece of work we would look out with a kind of hope, then go back to
+find something else to do--not looking at each other, not saying a word.
+Happily there was a great deal to do. And to see how some of the women,
+and those the most anxious, would work, never resting, going on from one
+thing to another, as if they were hungry for more and more! Some did it
+with their mouths shut close, with their countenances fixed, not daring
+to pause or meet another's eyes; but some, who were more patient, worked
+with a soft word, and sometimes a smile, and sometimes a tear; but ever
+working on. Some of them were an example to us all. In the morning, when
+we got up, some from beds, some from the floor,--I insisted that all
+should lie down, by turns at least, for we could not make room for every
+one at the same hours,--the very first thought of all was to hasten to
+the window, or, better, to the door. Who could tell what might have
+happened while we slept? For the first moment no one would speak,--it
+was the moment of hope--and then there would be a cry, a clasping of the
+hands, which told--what we all knew. The one of the women who touched my
+heart most was the wife of Riou of the _octroi_. She had been almost
+rich for her condition in life, with a good house and a little servant
+whom she trained admirably, as I have had occasion to know. Her husband
+and her son were both among those whom we had left under the walls of
+Semur; but she had three children with her at La Clairiere. Madame Riou
+slept lightly, and so did I. Sometimes I heard her stir in the middle of
+the night, though so softly that no one woke. We were in the same room,
+for it may be supposed that to keep a room to one's self was not
+possible. I did not stir, but lay and watched her as she went to the
+window, her figure visible against the pale dawning of the light, with
+an eager quick movement as of expectation--then turning back with slower
+step and a sigh. She was always full of hope. As the days went on, there
+came to be a kind of communication between us. We understood each other.
+When one was occupied and the other free, that one of us who went out to
+the door to look across the valley where Semur was would look at the
+other as if to say, 'I go.' When it was Madame Riou who did this, I
+shook my head, and she gave me a smile which awoke at every repetition
+(though I knew it was vain) a faint expectation, a little hope. When she
+came back, it was she who would shake her head, with her eyes full of
+tears. 'Did I not tell thee?' I said, speaking to her as if she were my
+daughter. 'It will be for next time, Madame,' she would say, and smile,
+yet put her apron to her eyes. There were many who were like her, and
+there were those of whom I have spoken who were _pleureuses_, never
+hoping anything, doing little, bewailing themselves and their hard fate.
+Some of them we employed to carry the provisions to Semur, and this
+amused them, though the heaviness of the baskets made again a complaint.
+
+As for the children, thank God! they were not disturbed as we were--to
+them it was a beautiful holiday--it was like Heaven. There is no place
+on earth that I love like Semur, yet it is true that the streets are
+narrow, and there is not much room for the children. Here they were
+happy as the day; they strayed over all our gardens and the meadows,
+which were full of flowers; they sat in companies upon the green grass,
+as thick as the daisies themselves, which they loved. Old Sister
+Mariette, who is called Marie de la Consolation, sat out in the meadow
+under an acacia-tree and watched over them. She was the one among us who
+was happy. She had no son, no husband, among the watchers, and though,
+no doubt, she loved her convent and her hospital, yet she sat all day
+long in the shade and in the full air, and smiled, and never looked
+towards Semur. 'The good Lord will do as He wills,' she said, 'and that
+will be well.' It was true--we all knew it was true; but it might
+be--who could tell?--that it was His will to destroy our town, and take
+away our bread, and perhaps the lives of those who were dear to us; and
+something came in our throats which prevented a reply. '_Ma soeur_,' I
+said, 'we are of the world, we tremble for those we love; we are not as
+you are.' Sister Mariette did nothing but smile upon us. 'I have known
+my Lord these sixty years,' she said, 'and He has taken everything from
+me.' To see her smile as she said this was more than I could bear. From
+me He had taken something, but not all. Must we be prepared to give up
+all if we would be perfected? There were many of the others also who
+trembled at these words. 'And now He gives me my consolation,' she said,
+and called the little ones round her, and told them a tale of the Good
+Shepherd, which is out of the holy Gospel. To see all the little ones
+round her knees in a crowd, and the peaceful face with which she smiled
+upon them, and the meadows all full of flowers, and the sunshine coming
+and going through the branches: and to hear that tale of Him who went
+forth to seek the lamb that was lost, was like a tale out of a holy
+book, where all was peace and goodness and joy. But on the other side,
+not twenty steps off, was the house full of those who wept, and at all
+the doors and windows anxious faces gazing down upon that cloud in the
+valley where Semur was. A procession of our women was coming back, many
+with lingering steps, carrying the baskets which were empty. 'Is there
+any news?' we asked, reading their faces before they could answer. And
+some shook their heads, and some wept. There was no other reply.
+
+On the last night before our deliverance, suddenly, in the middle of the
+night, there was a great commotion in the house. We all rose out of our
+beds at the sound of the cry, almost believing that some one at the
+window had seen the lifting of the cloud, and rushed together,
+frightened, yet all in an eager expectation to hear what it was. It was
+in the room where the old Mere Julie slept that the disturbance was.
+Mere Julie was one of the market-women of Semur, the one I have
+mentioned who was devout, who never missed the _Salut_ in the afternoon,
+besides all masses which are obligatory. But there were other matters
+in which she had not satisfied my mind, as I have before said. She was
+the mother of Jacques Richard, who was a good-for-nothing, as is well
+known. At La Clairiere Mere Julie had enacted a strange part. She had
+taken no part in anything that was done, but had established herself in
+the chamber allotted to her, and taken the best bed in it, where she
+kept her place night and day, making the others wait upon her. She had
+always expressed a great devotion for St. Jean; and the Sisters of the
+Hospital had been very kind to her, and also to her _vaurien_ of a son,
+who was indeed, in some manner, the occasion of all our troubles--being
+the first who complained of the opening of the chapel into the chief
+ward, which was closed up by the administration, and thus became, as I
+and many others think, the cause of all the calamities that have come
+upon us. It was her bed that was the centre of the great commotion we
+had heard, and a dozen voices immediately began to explain to us as we
+entered. 'Mere Julie has had a dream. She has seen a vision,' they said.
+It was a vision of angels in the most beautiful robes, all shining with
+gold and whiteness.
+
+'The dress of the Holy Mother which she wears on the great _fetes_ was
+nothing to them,' Mere Julie told us, when she had composed herself. For
+all had run here and there at her first cry, and procured for her a
+_tisane_, and a cup of _bouillon_, and all that was good for an attack
+of the nerves, which was what it was at first supposed to be. 'Their
+wings were like the wings of the great peacock on the terrace, but also
+like those of eagles. And each one had a collar of beautiful jewels
+about his neck, and robes whiter than those of any bride.' This was the
+description she gave: and to see the women how they listened, head above
+head, a cloud of eager faces, all full of awe and attention! The angels
+had promised her that they would come again, when we had bound ourselves
+to observe all the functions of the Church, and when all these
+Messieurs had been converted, and made their submission--to lead us back
+gloriously to Semur. There was a great tumult in the chamber, and all
+cried out that they were convinced, that they were ready to promise. All
+except Madame Martin, who stood and looked at them with a look which
+surprised me, which was of pity rather than sympathy. As there was no
+one else to speak, I took the word, being the mother of the present
+Maire, and wife of the last, and in part mistress of the house. Had
+Agnes spoken I would have yielded to her, but as she was silent I took
+my right. 'Mere Julie,' I said, 'and mes bonnes femmes, my friends, know
+you that it is the middle of the night, the hour at which we must rest
+if we are to be able to do the work that is needful, which the _bon
+Dieu_ has laid upon us? It is not from us--my daughter and myself--who,
+it is well known, have followed all the functions of the Church, that
+you will meet with an opposition to your promise. But what I desire is
+that you should calm yourselves, that you should retire and rest till
+the time of work, husbanding your strength, since we know not what claim
+may be made upon it. The holy angels,' I said, 'will comprehend, or if
+not they, then the _bon Dieu_, who understands everything.'
+
+But it was with difficulty that I could induce them to listen to me, to
+do that which was reasonable. When, however, we had quieted the
+agitation, and persuaded the good women to repose themselves, it was no
+longer possible for me to rest. I promised to myself a little moment of
+quiet, for my heart longed to be alone. I stole out as quietly as I
+might, not to disturb any one, and sat down upon the bench outside the
+door. It was still a kind of half-dark, nothing visible, so that if any
+one should gaze and gaze down the valley, it was not possible to see
+what was there: and I was glad that it was not possible, for my very
+soul was tired. I sat down and leant my back upon the wall of our
+house, and opened my lips to draw in the air of the morning. How still
+it was! the very birds not yet begun to rustle and stir in the bushes;
+the night air hushed, and scarcely the first faint tint of blue
+beginning to steal into the darkness. When I had sat there a little,
+closing my eyes, lo, tears began to steal into them like rain when there
+has been a fever of heat. I have wept in my time many tears, but the
+time of weeping is over with me, and through all these miseries I had
+shed none. Now they came without asking, like a benediction refreshing
+my eyes. Just then I felt a soft pressure upon my shoulder, and there
+was Agnes coming close, putting her shoulder to mine, as was her way,
+that we might support each other.
+
+'You weep, ma mere,' she said.
+
+'I think it is one of the angels Mere Julie has seen,' said I. 'It is a
+refreshment--a blessing; my eyes were dry with weariness.'
+
+'Mother,' said Madame Martin, 'do you think it is angels with wings
+like peacocks and jewelled collars that our Father sends to us? Ah, not
+so--one of those whom we love has touched your dear eyes,' and with that
+she kissed me upon my eyes, taking me in her arms. My heart is sometimes
+hard to my son's wife, but not always--not with my will, God knows! Her
+kiss was soft as the touch of any angel could be.
+
+'God bless thee, my child,' I said.
+
+'Thanks, thanks, ma mere!' she cried. 'Now I am resolved; now will I go
+and speak to Martin--of something in my heart.'
+
+'What will you do, my child?' I said, for as the light increased I could
+see the meaning in her face, and that it was wrought up for some great
+thing. 'Beware, Agnes; risk not my son's happiness by risking thyself;
+thou art more to Martin than all the world beside.'
+
+'He loves thee dearly, mother,' she said. My heart was comforted. I was
+able to remember that I too had had my day. 'He loves his mother, thank
+God, but not as he loves thee. Beware, _ma fille_. If you risk my son's
+happiness, neither will I forgive you.' She smiled upon me, and kissed
+my hands.
+
+'I will go and take him his food and some linen, and carry him your love
+and mine.'
+
+'_You_ will go, and carry one of those heavy baskets with the others!'
+
+'Mother,' cried Agnes, 'now you shame me that I have never done it
+before.'
+
+What could I say? Those whose turn it was were preparing their burdens
+to set out. She had her little packet made up, besides, of our cool
+white linen, which I knew would be so grateful to my son. I went with
+her to the turn of the road, helping her with her basket; but my limbs
+trembled, what with the long continuance of the trial, what with the
+agitation of the night. It was but just daylight when they went away,
+disappearing down the long slope of the road that led to Semur. I went
+back to the bench at the door, and there I sat down and thought.
+Assuredly it was wrong to close up the chapel, to deprive the sick of
+the benefit of the holy mass. But yet I could not but reflect that the
+_bon Dieu_ had suffered still more great scandals to take place without
+such a punishment. When, however, I reflected on all that has been done
+by those who have no cares of this world as we have, but are brides of
+Christ, and upon all they resign by their dedication, and the claim they
+have to be furthered, not hindered, in their holy work: and when I
+bethought myself how many and great are the powers of evil, and that,
+save in us poor women who can do so little, the Church has few friends:
+then it came back to me how heinous was the offence that had been
+committed, and that it might well be that the saints out of heaven
+should return to earth to take the part and avenge the cause of the
+weak. My husband would have been the first to do it, had he seen with
+my eyes; but though in the flesh he did not do so, is it to be doubted
+that in heaven their eyes are enlightened--those who have been subjected
+to the cleansing fires and have ascended into final bliss? This all
+became clear to me as I sat and pondered, while the morning light grew
+around me, and the sun rose and shed his first rays, which are as
+precious gold, on the summits of the mountains--for at La Clairiere we
+are nearer the mountains than at Semur.
+
+The house was more still than usual, and all slept to a later hour
+because of the agitation of the past night. I had been seated, like old
+sister Mariette, with my eyes turned rather towards the hills than to
+the valley, being so deep in my thoughts that I did not look, as it was
+our constant wont to look, if any change had happened over Semur. Thus
+blessings come unawares when we are not looking for them. Suddenly I
+lifted my eyes--but not with expectation--languidly, as one looks
+without thought. Then it was that I gave that great cry which brought
+all crowding to the windows, to the gardens, to every spot from whence
+that blessed sight was visible; for there before us, piercing through
+the clouds, were the beautiful towers of Semur, the Cathedral with all
+its pinnacles, that are as if they were carved out of foam, and the
+solid tower of St. Lambert, and the others, every one. They told me
+after that I flew, though I am past running, to the farmyard to call all
+the labourers and servants of the farm, bidding them prepare every
+carriage and waggon, and even the _charrettes_, to carry back the
+children, and those who could not walk to the city.
+
+'The men will be wild with privation and trouble,' I said to myself;
+'they will want the sight of their little children, the comfort of their
+wives.'
+
+I did not wait to reason nor to ask myself if I did well; and my son has
+told me since that he scarcely was more thankful for our great
+deliverance than, just when the crowd of gaunt and weary men returned
+into Semur, and there was a moment when excitement and joy were at their
+highest, and danger possible, to hear the roll of the heavy farm
+waggons, and to see me arrive, with all the little ones and their
+mothers, like a new army, to take possession of their homes once more.
+
+
+M. LE MAIRE CONCLUDES HIS RECORD.
+
+The narratives which I have collected from the different eye-witnesses
+during the time of my own absence, will show how everything passed while
+I, with M. le Cure, was recovering possession of our city. Many have
+reported to me verbally the occurrences of the last half-hour before my
+return; and in their accounts there are naturally discrepancies, owing
+to their different points of view and different ways of regarding the
+subject. But all are agreed that a strange and universal slumber had
+seized upon all. M. de Bois-Sombre even admits that he, too, was
+overcome by this influence. They slept while we were performing our
+dangerous and solemn duty in Semur. But when the Cathedral bells began
+to ring, with one impulse all awoke; and starting from the places where
+they lay, from the shade of the trees and bushes and sheltering hollows,
+saw the cloud and the mist and the darkness which had enveloped Semur
+suddenly rise from the walls. It floated up into the higher air before
+their eyes, then was caught and carried away, and flung about into
+shreds upon the sky by a strong wind, of which down below no influence
+was felt. They all gazed, not able to get their breath, speechless,
+beside themselves with joy, and saw the walls reappear, and the roofs of
+the houses, and our glorious Cathedral against the blue sky. They stood
+for a moment spell-bound. M. de Bois-Sombre informs me that he was
+afraid of a wild rush into the city, and himself hastened to the front
+to lead and restrain it; when suddenly a great cry rang through the air,
+and some one was seen to fall across the high road, straight in front of
+the Porte St. Lambert. M. de Bois-Sombre was at once aware who it was,
+for he himself had watched Lecamus taking his place at the feet of my
+wife, who awaited my return there. This checked the people in their
+first rush towards their homes; and when it was seen that Madame Dupin
+had also sunk down fainting on the ground after her more than human
+exertions for the comfort of all, there was but one impulse of
+tenderness and pity. When I reached the gate on my return, I found my
+wife lying there in all the pallor of death, and for a moment my heart
+stood still with sudden terror. What mattered Semur to me, if it had
+cost me my Agnes? or how could I think of Lecamus or any other, while
+she lay between life and death? I had her carried back to our own house.
+She was the first to re-enter Semur; and after a time, thanks be to God,
+she came back to herself. But Paul Lecamus was a dead man. No need to
+carry him in, to attempt unavailing cares. 'He has gone, that one; he
+has marched with the others,' said the old doctor, who had served in his
+day, and sometimes would use the language of the camp. He cast but one
+glance at him, and laid his hand upon his heart in passing. 'Cover his
+face,' was all he said.
+
+It is possible that this check was good for the restraint of the crowd.
+It moderated the rush with which they returned to their homes. The sight
+of the motionless figures stretched out by the side of the way overawed
+them. Perhaps it may seem strange, to any one who has known what had
+occurred, that the state of the city should have given me great anxiety
+the first night of our return. The withdrawal of the oppression and awe
+which had been on the men, the return of everything to its natural
+state, the sight of their houses unchanged, so that the brain turned
+round of these common people, who seldom reflect upon anything, and they
+already began to ask themselves was it all a delusion--added to the
+exhaustion of their physical condition, and the natural desire for ease
+and pleasure after the long strain upon all their faculties--produced an
+excitement which might have led to very disastrous consequences.
+Fortunately I had foreseen this. I have always been considered to
+possess great knowledge of human nature, and this has been matured by
+recent events. I sent off messengers instantly to bring home the women
+and children, and called around me the men in whom I could most trust.
+Though I need not say that the excitement and suffering of the past
+three days had told not less upon myself than upon others, I abandoned
+all idea of rest. The first thing that I did, aided by my respectable
+fellow-townsmen, was to take possession of all _cabarets_ and
+wine-shops, allowing indeed the proprietors to return, but preventing
+all assemblages within them. We then established a patrol of respectable
+citizens throughout the city, to preserve the public peace. I
+calculated, with great anxiety, how many hours it would be before my
+messengers could react: La Clairiere, to bring back the women--for in
+such a case the wives are the best guardians, and can exercise an
+influence more general and less suspected than that of the magistrates;
+but this was not to be hoped for for three or four hours at least.
+Judge, then, what was my joy and satisfaction when the sound of wheels
+(in itself a pleasant sound, for no wheels had been audible on the
+high-road since these events began) came briskly to us from the
+distance; and looking out from the watch-tower over the Porte St.
+Lambert, I saw the strangest procession. The wine-carts and all the farm
+vehicles of La Clairiere, and every kind of country waggon, were jolting
+along the road, all in a tumult and babble of delicious voices; and from
+under the rude canopies and awnings and roofs of vine branches, made up
+to shield them from the sun, lo! there were the children like birds in a
+nest, one little head peeping over the other. And the cries and songs,
+the laughter, and the shoutings! As they came along the air grew sweet,
+the world was made new. Many of us, who had borne all the terrors and
+sufferings of the past without fainting, now felt their strength fail
+them. Some broke out into tears, interrupted with laughter. Some called
+out aloud the names of their little ones. We went out to meet them,
+every man there present, myself at the head. And I will not deny that a
+sensation of pride came over me when I saw my mother stand up in the
+first waggon, with all those happy ones fluttering around her. 'My son,'
+she said, 'I have discharged the trust that was given me. I bring thee
+back the blessing of God.' 'And God bless thee, my mother!' I cried. The
+other men, who were fathers, like me, came round me, crowding to kiss
+her hand. It is not among the women of my family that you will find
+those who abandon their duties.
+
+And then to lift them down in armfuls, those flowers of paradise, all
+fresh with the air of the fields, all joyous like the birds! We put them
+down by twos and threes, some of us sobbing with joy. And to see them
+dispersing hand in hand, running here and there, each to its home,
+carrying peace, and love, and gladness, through the streets--that was
+enough to make the most serious smile. No fear was in them, or care.
+Every haggard man they met--some of them feverish, restless, beginning
+to think of riot and pleasure after forced abstinence--there was a new
+shout, a rush of little feet, a shower of soft kisses. The women were
+following after, some packed into the carts and waggons, pale and worn,
+yet happy; some walking behind in groups; the more strong, or the more
+eager, in advance, and a long line of stragglers behind. There was
+anxiety in their faces, mingled with their joy. How did they know what
+they might find in the houses from which they had been shut out? And
+many felt, like me, that in the very return, in the relief, there was
+danger. But the children feared nothing; they filled the streets with
+their dear voices, and happiness came back with them. When I felt my
+little Jean's cheek against mine, then for the first time did I know how
+much anguish I had suffered--how terrible was parting, and how sweet was
+life. But strength and prudence melt away when one indulges one's self,
+even in one's dearest affections. I had to call my guardians together,
+to put mastery upon myself, that a just vigilance might not be relaxed.
+M. de Bois-Sombre, though less anxious than myself, and disposed to
+believe (being a soldier) that a little license would do no harm, yet
+stood by me; and, thanks to our precautions, all went well.
+
+Before night three parts of the population had returned to Semur, and
+the houses were all lighted up as for a great festival. The Cathedral
+stood open--even the great west doors, which are only opened on great
+occasions--with a glow of tapers gleaming out on every side. As I stood
+in the twilight watching, and glad at heart to think that all was going
+well, my mother and my wife--still pale, but now recovered from her
+fainting and weakness--came out into the great square, leading my little
+Jean. They were on their way to the Cathedral, to thank God for their
+return. They looked at me, but did not ask me to go with them, those
+dear women; they respected my opinions, as I had always respected
+theirs. But this silence moved me more than words; there came into my
+heart a sudden inspiration. I was still in my scarf of office, which had
+been, I say it without vanity, the standard of authority and protection
+during all our trouble; and thus marked out as representative of all, I
+uncovered myself, after the ladies of my family had passed, and, without
+joining them, silently followed with a slow and solemn step. A
+suggestion, a look, is enough for my countrymen; those who were in the
+Place with me perceived in a moment what I meant. One by one they
+uncovered, they put themselves behind me. Thus we made such a procession
+as had never been seen in Semur. We were gaunt and worn with watching
+and anxiety, which only added to the solemn effect. Those who were
+already in the Cathedral, and especially M. le Cure, informed me
+afterwards that the tramp of our male feet as we came up the great steps
+gave to all a thrill of expectation and awe. It was at the moment of the
+exposition of the Sacrament that we entered. Instinctively, in a moment,
+all understood--a thing which could happen nowhere but in France, where
+intelligence is swift as the breath on our lips. Those who were already
+there yielded their places to us, most of the women rising up, making as
+it were a ring round us, the tears running down their faces. When the
+Sacrament was replaced upon the altar, M. le Cure, perceiving our
+meaning, began at once in his noble voice to intone the _Te Deum_.
+Rejecting all other music, he adopted the plain song in which all could
+join, and with one voice, every man in unison with his brother, we sang
+with him. The great Cathedral walls seemed to throb with the sound that
+rolled upward, _male_ and deep, as no song has ever risen from Semur in
+the memory of man. The women stood up around us, and wept and sobbed
+with pride and joy. When this wonderful moment was over, and all the
+people poured forth out of the Cathedral walls into the soft evening,
+with stars shining above, and all the friendly lights below, there was
+such a tumult of emotion and gladness as I have never seen before. Many
+of the poor women surrounded me, kissed my hand notwithstanding my
+resistance, and called upon God to bless me; while some of the older
+persons made remarks full of justice and feeling.
+
+'The _bon Dieu_ is not used to such singing,' one of them cried, her old
+eyes streaming with tears. 'It must have surprised the saints up in
+heaven!'
+
+'It will bring a blessing,' cried another. 'It is not like our little
+voices, that perhaps only reach half-way.'
+
+This was figurative language, yet it was impossible to doubt there was
+much truth in it. Such a submission of our intellects, as I felt in
+determining to make it, must have been pleasing to heaven. The women,
+they are always praying; but when we thus presented ourselves to give
+thanks, it meant something, a real homage; and with a feeling of
+solemnity we separated, aware that we had contented both earth and
+heaven.
+
+Next morning there was a great function in the Cathedral, at which the
+whole city assisted. Those who could not get admittance crowded upon the
+steps, and knelt half way across the Place. It was an occasion long
+remembered in Semur, though I have heard many say not in itself so
+impressive as the _Te Deum_ on the evening of our return. After this we
+returned to our occupations, and life was resumed under its former
+conditions in our city.
+
+It might be supposed, however, that the place in which events so
+extraordinary had happened would never again be as it was before. Had I
+not been myself so closely involved, it would have appeared to me
+certain, that the streets, trod once by such inhabitants as those who
+for three nights and days abode within Semur, would have always retained
+some trace of their presence; that life there would have been more
+solemn than in other places; and that those families for whose advantage
+the dead had risen out of their graves, would have henceforward carried
+about with them some sign of that interposition. It will seem almost
+incredible when I now add that nothing of this kind has happened at
+Semur. The wonderful manifestation which interrupted our existence has
+passed absolutely as if it had never been. We had not been twelve hours
+in our houses ere we had forgotten, or practically forgotten, our
+expulsion from them. Even myself, to whom everything was so vividly
+brought home, I have to enter my wife's room to put aside the curtain
+from little Marie's picture, and to see and touch the olive branch
+which is there, before I can recall to myself anything that resembles
+the feeling with which I re-entered that sanctuary. My grandfather's
+bureau still stands in the middle of my library, where I found it on my
+return; but I have got used to it, and it no longer affects me.
+Everything is as it was; and I cannot persuade myself that, for a time,
+I and mine were shut out, and our places taken by those who neither eat
+nor drink, and whose life is invisible to our eyes. Everything, I say,
+is as it was--every thing goes on as if it would endure for ever. We
+know this cannot be, yet it does not move us. Why, then, should the
+other move us? A little time, we are aware, and we, too, shall be as
+they are--as shadows, and unseen. But neither has the one changed us,
+and neither does the other. There was, for some time, a greater respect
+shown to religion in Semur, and a more devout attendance at the sacred
+functions; but I regret to say this did not continue. Even in my own
+case--I say it with sorrow--it did not continue. M. le Cure is an
+admirable person. I know no more excellent ecclesiastic. He is
+indefatigable in the performance of his spiritual duties; and he has,
+besides, a noble and upright soul. Since the days when we suffered and
+laboured together, he has been to me as a brother. Still, it is
+undeniable that he makes calls upon our credulity, which a man obeys
+with reluctance. There are ways of surmounting this; as I see in Agnes
+for one, and in M. de Bois-Sombre for another. My wife does not
+question, she believes much; and in respect to that which she cannot
+acquiesce in, she is silent. 'There are many things I hear you talk of,
+Martin, which are strange to me,' she says, 'of myself I cannot believe
+in them; but I do not oppose, since it is possible you may have reason
+to know better than I; and so with some things that we hear from M. le
+Cure.' This is how she explains herself--but she is a woman. It is a
+matter of grace to yield to our better judgment. M. de Bois-Sombre has
+another way. '_Ma foi_,' he says, 'I have not the time for all your
+delicacies, my good people; I have come to see that these things are for
+the advantage of the world, and it is not my business to explain them.
+If M. le Cure attempted to criticise me in military matters, or thee, my
+excellent Martin, in affairs of business, or in the culture of your
+vines, I should think him not a wise man; and in like manner, faith and
+religion, these are his concern.' Felix de Bois Sombre is an excellent
+fellow; but he smells a little of the _mousquetaire_. I, who am neither
+a soldier nor a woman, I have hesitations. Nevertheless, so long as I am
+Maire of Semur, nothing less than the most absolute respect shall ever
+be shown to all truly religious persons, with whom it is my earnest
+desire to remain in sympathy and fraternity, so far as that may be.
+
+It seemed, however, a little while ago as if my tenure of this office
+would not be long, notwithstanding the services which I am acknowledged,
+on every hand, to have done to my fellow-townsmen. It will be remembered
+that when M. le Cure and myself found Semur empty, we heard a voice of
+complaining from the hospital of St. Jean, and found a sick man who had
+been left there, and who grumbled against the Sisters, and accused them
+of neglecting him, but remained altogether unaware, in the meantime, of
+what had happened in the city. Will it be believed that after a time
+this fellow was put faith in as a seer, who had heard and beheld many
+things of which we were all ignorant? It must be said that, in the
+meantime, there had been a little excitement in the town on the subject
+of the chapel in the hospital, to which repeated reference has already
+been made. It was insisted on behalf of these ladies that a promise had
+been given, taking, indeed, the form of a vow, that, as soon as we were
+again in possession of Semur, their full privileges should be restored
+to them. Their advocates even went so far as to send to me a deputation
+of those who had been nursed in the hospital, the leader of which was
+Jacques Richard, who since he has been, as he says, 'converted,' thrusts
+himself to the front of every movement.
+
+'Permit me to speak, M. le Maire,' he said; 'me, who was one of those so
+misguided as to complain, before the great lesson we have all received.
+The mass did not disturb any sick person who was of right dispositions.
+I was then a very bad subject, indeed--as, alas! M. le Maire too well
+knows. It annoyed me only as all pious observances annoyed me. I am now,
+thank heaven, of a very different way of thinking----'
+
+But I would not listen to the fellow. When he was a _mauvais sujet_ he
+was less abhorrent to me than now.
+
+The men were aware that when I pronounced myself so distinctly on any
+subject, there was nothing more to be said, for, though gentle as a
+lamb and open to all reasonable arguments, I am capable of making the
+most obstinate stand for principle; and to yield to popular
+superstition, is that worthy of a man who has been instructed? At the
+same time it raised a great anger in my mind that all that should be
+thought of was a thing so trivial. That they should have given
+themselves, soul and body, for a little money; that they should have
+scoffed at all that was noble and generous, both in religion and in
+earthly things; all that was nothing to them. And now they would insult
+the great God Himself by believing that all He cared for was a little
+mass in a convent chapel. What desecration! What debasement! When I went
+to M. le Cure, he smiled at my vehemence. There was pain in his smile,
+and it might be indignation; but he was not furious like me.
+
+'They will conquer you, my friend,' he said.
+
+'Never,' I cried. 'Before I might have yielded. But to tell me the
+gates of death have been rolled back, and Heaven revealed, and the great
+God stooped down from Heaven, in order that mass should be said
+according to the wishes of the community in the midst of the sick wards!
+They will never make me believe this, if I were to die for it.'
+
+'Nevertheless, they will conquer,' M. le Cure said.
+
+It angered me that he should say so. My heart was sore as if my friend
+had forsaken me. And then it was that the worst step was taken in this
+crusade of false religion. It was from my mother that I heard of it
+first. One day she came home in great excitement, saying that now indeed
+a real light was to be shed upon all that had happened to us.
+
+'It appears,' she said, 'that Pierre Plastron was in the hospital all
+the time, and heard and saw many wonderful things. Sister Genevieve has
+just told me. It is wonderful beyond anything you could believe. He has
+spoken with our holy patron himself, St. Lambert, and has received
+instructions for a pilgrimage--'
+
+'Pierre Plastron!' I cried; 'Pierre Plastron saw nothing, ma mere. He
+was not even aware that anything remarkable had occurred. He complained
+to us of the Sisters that they neglected him; he knew nothing more.'
+
+'My son,' she said, looking upon me with reproving eyes, 'what have the
+good Sisters done to thee? Why is it that you look so unfavourably upon
+everything that comes from the community of St. Jean?'
+
+'What have I to do with the community?' I cried--'when I tell thee,
+Maman, that this Pierre Plastron knows nothing! I heard it from the
+fellow's own lips, and M. le Cure was present and heard him too. He had
+seen nothing, he knew nothing. Inquire of M. le Cure, if you have doubts
+of me.'
+
+'I do not doubt you, Martin,' said my mother, with severity, 'when you
+are not biassed by prejudice. And, as for M. le Cure, it is well known
+that the clergy are often jealous of the good Sisters, when they are not
+under their own control.'
+
+Such was the injustice with which we were treated. And next day nothing
+was talked of but the revelation of Pierre Plastron. What he had seen
+and what he had heard was wonderful. All the saints had come and talked
+with him, and told him what he was to say to his townsmen. They told him
+exactly how everything had happened: how St. Jean himself had interfered
+on behalf of the Sisters, and how, if we were not more attentive to the
+duties of religion, certain among us would be bound hand and foot and
+cast into the jaws of hell. That I was one, nay the chief, of these
+denounced persons, no one could have any doubt. This exasperated me; and
+as soon as I knew that this folly had been printed and was in every
+house, I hastened to M. le Cure, and entreated him in his next Sunday's
+sermon to tell the true story of Pierre Plastron, and reveal the
+imposture. But M. le Cure shook his head. 'It will do no good,' he said.
+
+'But how no good?' said I. 'What good are we looking for? These are
+lies, nothing but lies. Either he has deceived the poor ladies basely,
+or they themselves--but this is what I cannot believe.'
+
+'Dear friend,' he said, 'compose thyself. Have you never discovered yet
+how strong is self-delusion? There will be no lying of which they are
+aware. Figure to yourself what a stimulus to the imagination to know
+that he was here, actually here. Even I--it suggests a hundred things to
+me. The Sisters will have said to him (meaning no evil, nay meaning the
+edification of the people), "But, Pierre, reflect! You must have seen
+this and that. Recall thy recollections a little." And by degrees Pierre
+will have found out that he remembered--more than could have been
+hoped.'
+
+'_Mon Dieu_!' I cried, out of patience, 'and you know all this, yet you
+will not tell them the truth--the very truth.'
+
+'To what good?' he said. Perhaps M. le Cure was right: but, for my part,
+had I stood up in that pulpit, I should have contradicted their lies and
+given no quarter. This, indeed, was what I did both in my private and
+public capacity; but the people, though they loved me, did not believe
+me. They said, 'The best men have their prejudices. M. le Maire is an
+excellent man; but what will you? He is but human after all.'
+
+M. le Cure and I said no more to each other on this subject. He was a
+brave man, yet here perhaps he was not quite brave. And the effect of
+Pierre Plastron's revelations in other quarters was to turn the awe that
+had been in many minds into mockery and laughter. '_Ma foi_,' said Felix
+de Bois-Sombre, 'Monseigneur St. Lambert has bad taste, mon ami Martin,
+to choose Pierre Plastron for his confidant when he might have had
+thee.' 'M. de Bois-Sombre does ill to laugh,' said my mother (even my
+mother! she was not on my side), 'when it is known that the foolish are
+often chosen to confound the wise.' But Agnes, my wife, it was she who
+gave me the best consolation. She turned to me with the tears in her
+beautiful eyes.
+
+'Mon ami,' she said, 'let Monseigneur St. Lambert say what he will. He
+is not God that we should put him above all. There were other saints
+with other thoughts that came for thee and for me!'
+
+All this contradiction was over when Agnes and I together took our
+flowers on the _jour des morts_ to the graves we love. Glimmering among
+the rest was a new cross which I had not seen before. This was the
+inscription upon it:--
+
+
+  A PAUL LECAMUS
+  PARTI
+  LE 20 JUILLET, 1875
+  AVEC LES BIEN-AIMES
+
+
+On it was wrought in the marble a little branch of olive. I turned to
+look at my wife as she laid underneath this cross a handful of violets.
+She gave me her hand still fragrant with the flowers. There was none of
+his family left to put up for him any token of human remembrance. Who
+but she should have done it, who had helped him to join that company and
+army of the beloved? 'This was our brother,' she said; 'he will tell my
+Marie what use I made of her olive leaves.'
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Beleaguered City, by Mrs. Oliphant
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