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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3086-0.txt b/3086-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8b5598 --- /dev/null +++ b/3086-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4263 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Original Short Stories of Maupassant, +Volume 10, by Guy de Maupassant + +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: Original Short Stories, Volume 10 (of 13) + +Author: Guy de Maupassant + +Release Date: August 16, 2006 [EBook #3086] +Last Updated: February 23, 2018 +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAUPASSANT SHORT STORIES *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, VOLUME 10 (of 13) + + +By Guy De Maupassant + + +Translated by: + + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others + + + +VOLUME X. + + THE CHRISTENING + THE FARMER'S WIFE + THE DEVIL + THE SNIPE + THE WILL + WALTER SCHNAFF'S ADVENTURE + AT SEA + MINUET + THE SON + THAT PIG OF A MORIN + SAINT ANTHONY + LASTING LOVE + PIERROT + A NORMANDY JOKE + FATHER MATTHEW + + + + +THE CHRISTENING + +“Well doctor, a little brandy?” + +“With pleasure.” + +The old ship's surgeon, holding out his glass, watched it as it slowly +filled with the golden liquid. Then, holding it in front of his eyes, he +let the light from the lamp stream through it, smelled it, tasted a few +drops and smacked his lips with relish. Then he said: + +“Ah! the charming poison! Or rather the seductive murderer, the +delightful destroyer of peoples! + +“You people do not know it the way I do. You may have read that admirable +book entitled L'Assommoir, but you have not, as I have, seen alcohol +exterminate a whole tribe of savages, a little kingdom of +negroes--alcohol calmly unloaded by the barrel by red-bearded +English seamen. + +“Right near here, in a little village in Brittany near Pont-l'Abbe, I +once witnessed a strange and terrible tragedy caused by alcohol. I was +spending my vacation in a little country house left me by my father. You +know this flat coast where the wind whistles day and night, where one +sees, standing or prone, these giant rocks which in the olden times were +regarded as guardians, and which still retain something majestic and +imposing about them. I always expect to see them come to life and start +to walk across the country with the slow and ponderous tread of giants, +or to unfold enormous granite wings and fly toward the paradise of the +Druids. + +“Everywhere is the sea, always ready on the slightest provocation to rise +in its anger and shake its foamy mane at those bold enough to brave its +wrath. + +“And the men who travel on this terrible sea, which, with one motion of +its green back, can overturn and swallow up their frail barks--they +go out in the little boats, day and night, hardy, weary and drunk. They +are often drunk. They have a saying which says: 'When the bottle is full +you see the reef, but when it is empty you see it no more.' + +“Go into one of their huts; you will never find the father there. If you +ask the woman what has become of her husband, she will stretch her arms +out over the dark ocean which rumbles and roars along the coast. He +remained, there one night, when he had had too much to drink; so did her +oldest son. She has four more big, strong, fair-haired boys. Soon it will +be their time. + +“As I said, I was living in a little house near Pont-l'Abbe. I was there +alone with my servant, an old sailor, and with a native family which took +care of the grounds in my absence. It consisted of three persons, two +sisters and a man, who had married one of them, and who attended to the +garden. + +“A short time before Christmas my gardener's wife presented him with a +boy. The husband asked me to stand as god-father. I could hardly deny the +request, and so he borrowed ten francs from me for the cost of the +christening, as he said. + +“The second day of January was chosen as the date of the ceremony. For a +week the earth had been covered by an enormous white carpet of snow, +which made this flat, low country seem vast and limitless. The ocean +appeared to be black in contrast with this white plain; one could see it +rolling, raging and tossing its waves as though wishing to annihilate its +pale neighbor, which appeared to be dead, it was so calm, quiet and cold. + +“At nine o'clock the father, Kerandec, came to my door with his +sister-in-law, the big Kermagan, and the nurse, who carried the infant +wrapped up in a blanket. We started for the church. The weather was so +cold that it seemed to dry up the skin and crack it open. I was thinking +of the poor little creature who was being carried on ahead of us, and I +said to myself that this Breton race must surely be of iron, if their +children were able, as soon as they were born, to stand such an outing. + +“We came to the church, but the door was closed; the priest was late. + +“Then the nurse sat down on one of the steps and began to undress the +child. At first I thought there must have been some slight accident, but +I saw that they were leaving the poor little fellow naked completely +naked, in the icy air. Furious at such imprudence, I protested: + +“'Why, you are crazy! You will kill the child!' + +“The woman answered quietly: 'Oh, no, sir; he must wait naked before the +Lord.' + +“The father and the aunt looked on undisturbed. It was the custom. If it +were not adhered to misfortune was sure to attend the little one. + +“I scolded, threatened and pleaded. I used force to try to cover the +frail creature. All was in vain. The nurse ran away from me through the +snow, and the body of the little one turned purple. I was about to leave +these brutes when I saw the priest coming across the country, followed. +by the sexton and a young boy. I ran towards him and gave vent to my +indignation. He showed no surprise nor did he quicken his pace in the +least. He answered: + +“'What can you expect, sir? It's the custom. They all do it, and it's of +no use trying to stop them.' + +“'But at least hurry up!' I cried. + +“He answered: 'But I can't go any faster.' + +“He entered the vestry, while we remained outside on the church steps. I +was suffering. But what about the poor little creature who was howling +from the effects of the biting cold. + +“At last the door opened. He went into the church. But the poor child had +to remain naked throughout the ceremony. It was interminable. The priest +stammered over the Latin words and mispronounced them horribly. He walked +slowly and with a ponderous tread. His white surplice chilled my heart. +It seemed as though, in the name of a pitiless and barbarous god, he had +wrapped himself in another kind of snow in order to torture this little +piece of humanity that suffered so from the cold. + +“Finally the christening was finished according to the rites and I saw +the nurse once more take the frozen, moaning child and wrap it up in the +blanket. + +“The priest said to me: 'Do you wish to sign the register?' + +“Turning to my gardener, I said: 'Hurry up and get home quickly so that +you can warm that child.' I gave him some advice so as to ward off, if +not too late, a bad attack of pneumonia. He promised to follow my +instructions and left with his sister-in-law and the nurse. I followed +the priest into the vestry, and when I had signed he demanded five francs +for expenses. + +“As I had already given the father ten francs, I refused to pay twice. +The priest threatened to destroy the paper and to annul the ceremony. I, +in turn, threatened him with the district attorney. The dispute was long, +and I finally paid five francs. + +“As soon as I reached home I went down to Kerandec's to find out whether +everything was all right. Neither father, nor sister-in-law, nor nurse +had yet returned. The mother, who had remained alone, was in bed, +shivering with cold and starving, for she had had nothing to eat since +the day before. + +“'Where the deuce can they have gone?' I asked. She answered without +surprise or anger, 'They're going to drink something to celebrate: It was +the custom. Then I thought, of my ten francs which were to pay the church +and would doubtless pay for the alcohol. + +“I sent some broth to the mother and ordered a good fire to be built in +the room. I was uneasy and furious and promised myself to drive out these +brutes, wondering with terror what was going to happen to the poor +infant. + +“It was already six, and they had not yet returned. I told my servant to +wait for them and I went to bed. I soon fell asleep and slept like a top. +At daybreak I was awakened by my servant, who was bringing me my hot +water. + +“As soon as my eyes were open I asked: 'How about Kerandec?' + +“The man hesitated and then stammered: 'Oh! he came back, all right, +after midnight, and so drunk that he couldn't walk, and so were Kermagan +and the nurse. I guess they must have slept in a ditch, for the little +one died and they never even noticed it.' + +“I jumped up out of bed, crying: + +“'What! The child is dead?' + +“'Yes, sir. They brought it back to Mother Kerandec. When she saw it she +began to cry, and now they are making her drink to console her.' + +“'What's that? They are making her drink!' + +“'Yes, sir. I only found it out this morning. As Kerandec had no more +brandy or money, he took some wood alcohol, which monsieur gave him for +the lamp, and all four of them are now drinking that. The mother is +feeling pretty sick now.' + +“I had hastily put on some clothes, and seizing a stick, with the +intention of applying it to the backs of these human beasts, I hastened +towards the gardener's house. + +“The mother was raving drunk beside the blue body of her dead baby. +Kerandec, the nurse, and the Kermagan woman were snoring on the floor. I +had to take care of the mother, who died towards noon.” + +The old doctor was silent. He took up the brandy-bottle and poured out +another glass. He held it up to the lamp, and the light streaming through +it imparted to the liquid the amber color of molten topaz. With one gulp +he swallowed the treacherous drink. + + + + +THE FARMER'S WIFE + +Said the Baron Rene du Treilles to me: + +“Will you come and open the hunting season with me at my farm at +Marinville? I shall be delighted if you will, my dear boy. In the first +place, I am all alone. It is rather a difficult ground to get at, and the +place I live in is so primitive that I can invite only my most intimate +friends.” + +I accepted his invitation, and on Saturday we set off on the train going +to Normandy. We alighted at a station called Almivare, and Baron Rene, +pointing to a carryall drawn by a timid horse and driven by a big +countryman with white hair, said: + +“Here is our equipage, my dear boy.” + +The driver extended his hand to his landlord, and the baron pressed it +warmly, asking: + +“Well, Maitre Lebrument, how are you?” + +“Always the same, M'sieu le Baron.” + +We jumped into this swinging hencoop perched on two enormous wheels, and +the young horse, after a violent swerve, started into a gallop, pitching +us into the air like balls. Every fall backward on the wooden bench gave +me the most dreadful pain. + +The peasant kept repeating in his calm, monotonous voice: + +“There, there! All right all right, Moutard, all right!” + +But Moutard scarcely heard, and kept capering along like a goat. + +Our two dogs behind us, in the empty part of the hencoop, were standing +up and sniffing the air of the plains, where they scented game. + +The baron gazed with a sad eye into the distance at the vast Norman +landscape, undulating and melancholy, like an immense English park, where +the farmyards, surrounded by two or four rows of trees and full of +dwarfed apple trees which hid the houses, gave a vista as far as the eye +could see of forest trees, copses and shrubbery such as landscape +gardeners look for in laying out the boundaries of princely estates. + +And Rene du Treilles suddenly exclaimed: + +“I love this soil; I have my very roots in it.” + +He was a pure Norman, tall and strong, with a slight paunch, and of the +old race of adventurers who went to found kingdoms on the shores of every +ocean. He was about fifty years of age, ten years less perhaps than the +farmer who was driving us. + +The latter was a lean peasant, all skin and bone, one of those men who +live a hundred years. + +After two hours' travelling over stony roads, across that green and +monotonous plain, the vehicle entered one of those orchard farmyards and +drew up before in old structure falling into decay, where an old +maid-servant stood waiting beside a young fellow, who took charge of the +horse. + +We entered the farmhouse. The smoky kitchen was high and spacious. The +copper utensils and the crockery shone in the reflection of the hearth. A +cat lay asleep on a chair, a dog under the table. One perceived an odor +of milk, apples, smoke, that indescribable smell peculiar to old +farmhouses; the odor of the earth, of the walls, of furniture, the odor +of spilled stale soup, of former wash-days and of former inhabitants, the +smell of animals and of human beings combined, of things and of persons, +the odor of time, and of things that have passed away. + +I went out to have a look at the farmyard. It was very large, full of +apple trees, dwarfed and crooked, and laden with fruit which fell on the +grass around them. In this farmyard the Norman smell of apples was as +strong as that of the bloom of orange trees on the shores of the south of +France. + +Four rows of beeches surrounded this inclosure. They were so tall that +they seemed to touch the clouds at this hour of nightfall, and their +summits, through which the night winds passed, swayed and sang a +mournful, interminable song. + +I reentered the house. + +The baron was warming his feet at the fire, and was listening to the +farmer's talk about country matters. He talked about marriages, births +and deaths, then about the fall in the price of grain and the latest news +about cattle. The “Veularde” (as he called a cow that had been bought at +the fair of Veules) had calved in the middle of June. The cider had not +been first-class last year. Apricots were almost disappearing from the +country. + +Then we had dinner. It was a good rustic meal, simple and abundant, long +and tranquil. And while we were dining I noticed the special kind of +friendly familiarity which had struck me from the start between the baron +and the peasant. + +Outside, the beeches continued sighing in the night wind, and our two +dogs, shut up in a shed, were whining and howling in an uncanny fashion. +The fire was dying out in the big fireplace. The maid-servant had gone to +bed. Maitre Lebrument said in his turn: + +“If you don't mind, M'sieu le Baron, I'm going to bed. I am not used to +staying up late.” + +The baron extended his hand toward him and said: “Go, my friend,” in so +cordial a tone that I said, as soon as the man had disappeared: + +“He is devoted to you, this farmer?” + +“Better than that, my dear fellow! It is a drama, an old drama, simple +and very sad, that attaches him to me. Here is the story: + +“You know that my father was colonel in a cavalry regiment. His orderly +was this young fellow, now an old man, the son of a farmer. When my +father retired from the army he took this former soldier, then about +forty; as his servant. I was at that time about thirty. We were living in +our old chateau of Valrenne, near Caudebec-en-Caux. + +“At this period my mother's chambermaid was one of the prettiest girls +you could see, fair-haired, slender and sprightly in manner, a genuine +soubrette of the old type that no longer exists. To-day these creatures +spring up into hussies before their time. Paris, with the aid of the +railways, attracts them, calls them, takes hold of them, as soon as they +are budding into womanhood, these little sluts who in old times remained +simple maid-servants. Every man passing by, as recruiting sergeants did +formerly, looking for recruits, with conscripts, entices and ruins them +--these foolish lassies--and we have now only the scum of the +female sex for servant maids, all that is dull, nasty, common and +ill-formed, too ugly, even for gallantry. + +“Well, this girl was charming, and I often gave her a kiss in dark +corners; nothing more, I swear to you! She was virtuous, besides; and I +had some respect for my mother's house, which is more than can be said of +the blackguards of the present day. + +“Now, it happened that my man-servant, the ex-soldier, the old farmer you +have just seen, fell madly in love with this girl, perfectly daft. The +first thing we noticed was that he forgot everything, he paid no +attention to anything. + +“My father said incessantly: + +“'See here, Jean, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?' + +“He replied: + +“'No, no, M'sieu le Baron. There's nothing the matter with me.' + +“He grew thin; he broke glasses and let plates fall when waiting on the +table. We thought he must have been attacked by some nervous affection, +and sent for the doctor, who thought he could detect symptoms of spinal +disease. Then my father, full of anxiety about his faithful man-servant, +decided to place him in a private hospital. When the poor fellow heard of +my father's intentions he made a clean breast of it. + +“'M'sieu le Baron' + +“'Well, my boy?' + +“'You see, the thing I want is not physic.' + +“'Ha! what is it, then?' + +“'It's marriage!' + +“My father turned round and stared at him in astonishment. + +“'What's that you say, eh?' + +“'It's marriage.” + +“'Marriage! So, then, you jackass, you're to love.' + +“'That's how it is, M'sieu le Baron.' + +“And my father began to laugh so immoderately that my mother called out +through the wall of the next room: + +“'What in the world is the matter with you, Gontran?' + +“He replied: + +“'Come here, Catherine.' + +“And when she came in he told her, with tears in his eyes from sheer +laughter, that his idiot of a servant-man was lovesick. + +“But my mother, instead of laughing, was deeply affected. + +“'Who is it that you have fallen in love with, my poor fellow?' she +asked. + +“He answered without hesitation: + +“'With Louise, Madame le Baronne.' + +“My mother said with the utmost gravity: 'We must try to arrange this +matter the best way we can.' + +“So Louise was sent for and questioned by my mother; and she said in +reply that she knew all about Jean's liking for her, that in fact Jean +had spoken to her about it several times, but that she did not want him. +She refused to say why. + +“And two months elapsed during which my father and mother never ceased to +urge this girl to marry Jean. As she declared she was not in love with +any other man, she could not give any serious reason for her refusal. My +father at last overcame her resistance by means of a big present of +money, and started the pair of them on a farm--this very farm. I did +not see them for three years, and then I learned that Louise had died of +consumption. But my father and mother died, too, in their turn, and it +was two years more before I found myself face to face with Jean. + +“At last one autumn day about the end of October the idea came into my +head to go hunting on this part of my estate, which my father had told me +was full of game. + +“So one evening, one wet evening, I arrived at this house. I was shocked +to find my father's old servant with perfectly white hair, though he was +not more than forty-five or forty-six years of age. I made him dine with +me, at the very table where we are now sitting. It was raining hard. We +could hear the rain battering at the roof, the walls, and the windows, +flowing in a perfect deluge into the farmyard; and my dog was howling in +the shed where the other dogs are howling to-night. + +“All of a sudden, when the servant-maid had gone to bed, the man said in +a timid voice: + +“'M'sieu le Baron.' + +“'What is it, my dear Jean?' + +“'I have something to tell you.' + +“'Tell it, my dear Jean.' + +“'You remember Louise, my wife.' + +“'Certainly, I remember her.' + +“'Well, she left me a message for you.' + +“'What was it?' + +“'A--a--well, it was what you might call a confession.' + +“'Ha--and what was it about?' + +“'It was--it was--I'd rather, all the same, tell you nothing +about it--but I must--I must. Well, it's this--it wasn't +consumption she died of at all. It was grief--well, that's the long +and short of it. As soon as she came to live here after we were married, +she grew thin; she changed so that you wouldn't know her, M'sieu le +Baron. She was just as I was before I married her, but it was just the +opposite, just the opposite. + +“'I sent for the doctor. He said it was her liver that was affected--he +said it was what he called a “hepatic” complaint--I don't know these +big words, M'sieu le Baron. Then I bought medicine for her, heaps on +heaps of bottles that cost about three hundred francs. But she'd take +none of them; she wouldn't have them; she said: “It's no use, my poor +Jean; it wouldn't do me any good.” I saw well that she had some hidden +trouble; and then I found her one time crying, and I didn't know what to +do, no, I didn't know what to do. I bought her caps, and dresses, and +hair oil, and earrings. Nothing did her any good. And I saw that she was +going to die. And so one night at the end of November, one snowy night, +after she had been in bed the whole day, she told me to send for the +cure. So I went for him. As soon as he came--' + +“'Jean,' she said, 'I am going to make a confession to you. I owe it to +you, Jean. I have never been false to you, never! never, before or after +you married me. M'sieu le Cure is there, and can tell you so; he knows my +soul. Well, listen, Jean. If I am dying, it is because I was not able to +console myself for leaving the chateau, because I was too fond of the +young Baron Monsieur Rene, too fond of him, mind you, Jean, there was no +harm in it! This is the thing that's killing me. When I could see him no +more I felt that I should die. If I could only have seen him, I might +have lived, only seen him, nothing more. I wish you'd tell him some day, +by and by, when I am no longer here. You will tell him, swear you, will, +Jean--swear it--in the presence of M'sieu le Cure! It will console me to +know that he will know it one day, that this was the cause of my death! +Swear it!' + +“'Well, I gave her my promise, M'sieu It Baron, and on the faith of an +honest man I have kept my word.' + +“And then he ceased speaking, his eyes filling with tears. + +“Good God! my dear boy, you can't form any idea of the emotion that +filled me when I heard this poor devil, whose wife I had killed without +suspecting it, telling me this story on that wet night in this very +kitchen. + +“I exclaimed: 'Ah! my poor Jean! my poor Jean!' + +“He murmured: 'Well, that's all, M'sieu le Baron. I could not help it, +one way or the other--and now it's all over!' + +“I caught his hand across the table, and I began to weep. + +“He asked, 'Will you come and see her grave?' I nodded assent, for I +couldn't speak. He rose, lighted a lantern, and we walked through the +blinding rain by the light of the lantern. + +“He opened a gate, and I saw some crosses of black wood. + +“Suddenly he stopped before a marble slab and said: 'There it is,' and he +flashed the lantern close to it so that I could read the inscription: + + “'TO LOUISE HORTENSE MARINET, + “'Wife of Jean-Francois Lebrument, Farmer, + “'SHE WAS A FAITHFUL WIFE. GOD REST HER SOUL.' + +“We fell on our knees in the damp grass, he and I, with the lantern +between us, and I saw the rain beating on the white marble slab. And I +thought of the heart of her sleeping there in her grave. Ah! poor heart! +poor heart! Since then I come here every year. And I don't know why, but +I feel as if I were guilty of some crime in the presence of this man who +always looks as if he forgave me.” + + + + +THE DEVIL + +The peasant and the doctor stood on opposite sides of the bed, beside the +old, dying woman. She was calm and resigned and her mind quite clear as +she looked at them and listened to their conversation. She was going to +die, and she did not rebel at it, for her time was come, as she was +ninety-two. + +The July sun streamed in at the window and the open door and cast its hot +flames on the uneven brown clay floor, which had been stamped down by +four generations of clodhoppers. The smell of the fields came in also, +driven by the sharp wind and parched by the noontide heat. The +grass-hoppers chirped themselves hoarse, and filled the country with +their shrill noise, which was like that of the wooden toys which are sold +to children at fair time. + +The doctor raised his voice and said: “Honore, you cannot leave your +mother in this state; she may die at any moment.” And the peasant, in +great distress, replied: “But I must get in my wheat, for it has been +lying on the ground a long time, and the weather is just right for it; +what do you say about it, mother?” And the dying old woman, still +tormented by her Norman avariciousness, replied yes with her eyes and her +forehead, and thus urged her son to get in his wheat, and to leave her to +die alone. + +But the doctor got angry, and, stamping his foot, he said: “You are no +better than a brute, do you hear, and I will not allow you to do it, do +you understand? And if you must get in your wheat today, go and fetch +Rapet's wife and make her look after your mother; I will have it, do you +understand me? And if you do not obey me, I will let you die like a dog, +when you are ill in your turn; do you hear?” + +The peasant, a tall, thin fellow with slow movements, who was tormented +by indecision, by his fear of the doctor and his fierce love of saving, +hesitated, calculated, and stammered out: “How much does La Rapet charge +for attending sick people?” “How should I know?” the doctor cried. “That +depends upon how long she is needed. Settle it with her, by Heaven! But I +want her to be here within an hour, do you hear?” + +So the man decided. “I will go for her,” he replied; “don't get angry, +doctor.” And the latter left, calling out as he went: “Be careful, be +very careful, you know, for I do not joke when I am angry!” As soon as +they were alone the peasant turned to his mother and said in a resigned +voice: “I will go and fetch La Rapet, as the man will have it. Don't +worry till I get back.” + +And he went out in his turn. + +La Rapet, old was an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of +the neighborhood, and then, as soon as she had sewn her customers into +that linen cloth from which they would emerge no more, she went and took +up her iron to smooth out the linen of the living. Wrinkled like a last +year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious with a phenomenal avarice, +bent double, as if she had been broken in half across the loins by the +constant motion of passing the iron over the linen, one might have said +that she had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a death struggle. She +never spoke of anything but of the people she had seen die, of the +various kinds of deaths at which she had been present, and she related +with the greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just as a +sportsman recounts his luck. + +When Honore Bontemps entered her cottage, he found her preparing the +starch for the collars of the women villagers, and he said: +“Good-evening; I hope you are pretty well, Mother Rapet?” + +She turned her head round to look at him, and said: “As usual, as usual, +and you?” “Oh! as for me, I am as well as I could wish, but my mother is +not well.” “Your mother?” “Yes, my mother!” “What is the matter with +her?” “She is going to turn up her toes, that's what's the matter with +her!” + +The old woman took her hands out of the water and asked with sudden +sympathy: “Is she as bad as all that?” “The doctor says she will not last +till morning.” “Then she certainly is very bad!” Honore hesitated, for he +wanted to make a few preparatory remarks before coming to his +proposition; but as he could hit upon nothing, he made up his mind +suddenly. + +“How much will you ask to stay with her till the end? You know that I am +not rich, and I can not even afford to keep a servant girl. It is just +that which has brought my poor mother to this state--too much worry +and fatigue! She did the work of ten, in spite of her ninety-two years. +You don't find any made of that stuff nowadays!” + +La Rapet answered gravely: “There are two prices: Forty sous by day and +three francs by night for the rich, and twenty sous by day and forty by +night for the others. You shall pay me the twenty and forty.” But the +peasant reflected, for he knew his mother well. He knew how tenacious of +life, how vigorous and unyielding she was, and she might last another +week, in spite of the doctor's opinion; and so he said resolutely: “No, I +would rather you would fix a price for the whole time until the end. I +will take my chance, one way or the other. The doctor says she will die +very soon. If that happens, so much the better for you, and so much the +worse for her, but if she holds out till to-morrow or longer, so much the +better for her and so much the worse for you!” + +The nurse looked at the man in astonishment, for she had never treated a +death as a speculation, and she hesitated, tempted by the idea of the +possible gain, but she suspected that he wanted to play her a trick. “I +can say nothing until I have seen your mother,” she replied. + +“Then come with me and see her.” + +She washed her hands, and went with him immediately. + +They did not speak on the road; she walked with short, hasty steps, while +he strode on with his long legs, as if he were crossing a brook at every +step. + +The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their +heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them +for some green grass. + +When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: “Suppose it is +all over?” And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in +the sound of his voice. + +But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her +wretched bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane, +horribly thin, knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like +crabs, half closed by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a +century which she had accomplished. + +La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her +pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her +questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for +some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided +opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked: +“Well?” And the sick-nurse replied: “Well, she may last two days, perhaps +three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included.” + +“Six francs! six francs!” he shouted. “Are you out of your mind? I tell +you she cannot last more than five or six hours!” And they disputed +angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the +time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its +own accord, he finally agreed to her terms. + +“Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything, +until the corpse is taken out.” + +And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat which was lying on the +ground under the hot sun which ripens the grain, while the sick-nurse +went in again to the house. + +She had brought some work with her, for she worked without ceasing by the +side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for the +family which employed her as seamstress and paid her rather more in that +capacity. Suddenly, she asked: “Have you received the last sacraments, +Mother Bontemps?” + +The old peasant woman shook her head, and La Rapet, who was very devout, +got up quickly: + +“Good heavens, is it possible? I will go and fetch the cure”; and she +rushed off to the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street +thought some accident had happened, when they saw her running. + +The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a choir boy who +rang a bell to announce the passage of the Host through the parched and +quiet country. Some men who were working at a distance took off their +large hats and remained motionless until the white vestment had +disappeared behind some farm buildings; the women who were making up the +sheaves stood up to make the sign of the cross; the frightened black hens +ran away along the ditch until they reached a well-known hole, through +which they suddenly disappeared, while a foal which was tied in a meadow +took fright at the sight of the surplice and began to gallop round and +round, kicking out every now and then. The acolyte, in his red cassock, +walked quickly, and the priest, with his head inclined toward one +shoulder and his square biretta on his head, followed him, muttering some +prayers; while last of all came La Rapet, bent almost double as if she +wished to prostrate herself, as she walked with folded hands as they do +in church. + +Honore saw them pass in the distance, and he asked: “Where is our priest +going?” His man, who was more intelligent, replied: “He is taking the +sacrament to your mother, of course!” + +The peasant was not surprised, and said: “That may be,” and went on with +his work. + +Mother Bontemps confessed, received absolution and communion, and the +priest took his departure, leaving the two women alone in the suffocating +room, while La Rapet began to look at the dying woman, and to ask herself +whether it could last much longer. + +The day was on the wane, and gusts of cooler air began to blow, causing a +view of Epinal, which was fastened to the wall by two pins, to flap up +and down; the scanty window curtains, which had formerly been white, but +were now yellow and covered with fly-specks, looked as if they were going +to fly off, as if they were struggling to get away, like the old woman's +soul. + +Lying motionless, with her eyes open, she seemed to await with +indifference that death which was so near and which yet delayed its +coming. Her short breathing whistled in her constricted throat. It would +stop altogether soon, and there would be one woman less in the world; no +one would regret her. + +At nightfall Honore returned, and when he went up to the bed and saw that +his mother was still alive, he asked: “How is she?” just as he had done +formerly when she had been ailing, and then he sent La Rapet away, saying +to her: “To-morrow morning at five o'clock, without fail.” And she +replied: “To-morrow, at five o'clock.” + +She came at daybreak, and found Honore eating his soup, which he had made +himself before going to work, and the sick-nurse asked him: “Well, is +your mother dead?” “She is rather better, on the contrary,” he replied, +with a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. And he went out. + +La Rapet, seized with anxiety, went up to the dying woman, who remained +in the same state, lethargic and impassive, with her eyes open and her +hands clutching the counterpane. The nurse perceived that this might go +on thus for two days, four days, eight days, and her avaricious mind was +seized with fear, while she was furious at the sly fellow who had tricked +her, and at the woman who would not die. + +Nevertheless, she began to work, and waited, looking intently at the +wrinkled face of Mother Bontemps. When Honore returned to breakfast he +seemed quite satisfied and even in a bantering humor. He was decidedly +getting in his wheat under very favorable circumstances. + +La Rapet was becoming exasperated; every minute now seemed to her so much +time and money stolen from her. She felt a mad inclination to take this +old woman, this, headstrong old fool, this obstinate old wretch, and to +stop that short, rapid breath, which was robbing her of her time and +money, by squeezing her throat a little. But then she reflected on the +danger of doing so, and other thoughts came into her head; so she went up +to the bed and said: “Have you ever seen the Devil?” Mother Bontemps +murmured: “No.” + +Then the sick-nurse began to talk and to tell her tales which were likely +to terrify the weak mind of the dying woman. Some minutes before one dies +the Devil appears, she said, to all who are in the death throes. He has a +broom in his hand, a saucepan on his head, and he utters loud cries. When +anybody sees him, all is over, and that person has only a few moments +longer to live. She then enumerated all those to whom the Devil had +appeared that year: Josephine Loisel, Eulalie Ratier, Sophie Padaknau, +Seraphine Grospied. + +Mother Bontemps, who had at last become disturbed in mind, moved about, +wrung her hands, and tried to turn her head to look toward the end of the +room. Suddenly La Rapet disappeared at the foot of the bed. She took a +sheet out of the cupboard and wrapped herself up in it; she put the iron +saucepan on her head, so that its three short bent feet rose up like +horns, and she took a broom in her right hand and a tin pail in her left, +which she threw up suddenly, so that it might fall to the ground noisily. + +When it came down, it certainly made a terrible noise. Then, climbing +upon a chair, the nurse lifted up the curtain which hung at the bottom of +the bed, and showed herself, gesticulating and uttering shrill cries into +the iron saucepan which covered her face, while she menaced the old +peasant woman, who was nearly dead, with her broom. + +Terrified, with an insane expression on her face, the dying woman made a +superhuman effort to get up and escape; she even got her shoulders and +chest out of bed; then she fell back with a deep sigh. All was over, and +La Rapet calmly put everything back into its place; the broom into the +corner by the cupboard the sheet inside it, the saucepan on the hearth, +the pail on the floor, and the chair against the wall. Then, with +professional movements, she closed the dead woman's large eyes, put a +plate on the bed and poured some holy water into it, placing in it the +twig of boxwood that had been nailed to the chest of drawers, and +kneeling down, she fervently repeated the prayers for the dead, which she +knew by heart, as a matter of business. + +And when Honore returned in the evening he found her praying, and he +calculated immediately that she had made twenty sows out of him, for she +had only spent three days and one night there, which made five francs +altogether, instead of the six which he owed her. + + + + +THE SNIPE + +Old Baron des Ravots had for forty years been the champion sportsman of +his province. But a stroke of paralysis had kept him in his chair for the +last five or six years. He could now only shoot pigeons from the window +of his drawing-room or from the top of his high doorsteps. + +He spent his time in reading. + +He was a good-natured business man, who had much of the literary spirit +of a former century. He worshipped anecdotes, those little risque +anecdotes, and also true stories of events that happened in his +neighborhood. As soon as a friend came to see him he asked: + +“Well, anything new?” + +And he knew how to worm out information like an examining lawyer. + +On sunny days he had his large reclining chair, similar to a bed, wheeled +to the hall door. A man servant behind him held his guns, loaded them and +handed them to his master. Another valet, hidden in the bushes, let fly a +pigeon from time to time at irregular intervals, so that the baron should +be unprepared and be always on the watch. + +And from morning till night he fired at the birds, much annoyed if he +were taken by surprise and laughing till he cried when the animal fell +straight to the earth or, turned over in some comical and unexpected +manner. He would turn to the man who was loading the gun and say, almost +choking with laughter: + +“Did that get him, Joseph? Did you see how he fell?” Joseph invariably +replied: + +“Oh, monsieur le baron never misses them.” + +In autumn, when the shooting season opened, he invited his friends as he +had done formerly, and loved to hear them firing in the distance. He +counted the shots and was pleased when they followed each other rapidly. +And in the evening he made each guest give a faithful account of his day. +They remained three hours at table telling about their sport. + +They were strange and improbable adventures in which the romancing spirit +of the sportsmen delighted. Some of them were memorable stories and were +repeated regularly. The story of a rabbit that little Vicomte de Bourril +had missed in his vestibule convulsed them with laughter each year anew. +Every five minutes a fresh speaker would say: + +“I heard 'birr! birr!' and a magnificent covey rose at ten paces from me. +I aimed. Pif! paf! and I saw a shower, a veritable shower of birds. There +were seven of them!” + +And they all went into raptures, amazed, but reciprocally credulous. + +But there was an old custom in the house called “The Story of the Snipe.” + +Whenever this queen of birds was in season the same ceremony took place +at each dinner. As they worshipped this incomparable bird, each guest ate +one every evening, but the heads were all left in the dish. + +Then the baron, acting the part of a bishop, had a plate brought to him +containing a little fat, and he carefully anointed the precious heads, +holding them by the tip of their slender, needle-like beak. A lighted +candle was placed beside him and everyone was silent in an anxiety of +expectation. + +Then he took one of the heads thus prepared, stuck a pin through it and +stuck the pin on a cork, keeping the whole contrivance steady by means of +little crossed sticks, and carefully placed this object on the neck of a +bottle in the manner of a tourniquet. + +All the guests counted simultaneously in a loud tone-- + +“One-two-three.” + +And the baron with a fillip of the finger made this toy whirl round. + +The guest to whom the long beak pointed when the head stopped became the +possessor of all the heads, a feast fit for a king, which made his +neighbors look askance. + +He took them one by one and toasted them over the candle. The grease +sputtered, the roasting flesh smoked and the lucky winner ate the head, +holding it by the beak and uttering exclamations of enjoyment. + +And at each head the diners, raising their glasses, drank to his health. + +When he had finished the last head he was obliged, at the baron's orders, +to tell an anecdote to compensate the disappointed ones. + +Here are some of the stories. + + + + +THE WILL + +I knew that tall young fellow, Rene de Bourneval. He was an agreeable +man, though rather melancholy and seemed prejudiced against everything, +was very skeptical, and he could with a word tear down social hypocrisy. +He would often say: + +“There are no honorable men, or, at least, they are only relatively so +when compared with those lower than themselves.” + +He had two brothers, whom he never saw, the Messieurs de Courcils. I +always supposed they were by another father, on account of the difference +in the name. I had frequently heard that the family had a strange +history, but did not know the details. As I took a great liking to Rene +we soon became intimate friends, and one evening, when I had been dining +with him alone, I asked him, by chance: “Are you a son of the first or +second marriage?” He grew rather pale, and then flushed, and did not +speak for a few moments; he was visibly embarrassed. Then he smiled in +the melancholy, gentle manner, which was peculiar to him, and said: + +“My dear friend, if it will not weary you, I can give you some very +strange particulars about my life. I know that you are a sensible man, so +I do not fear that our friendship will suffer by my I revelations; and +should it suffer, I should not care about having you for my friend any +longer. + +“My mother, Madame de Courcils, was a poor little, timid woman, whom her +husband had married for the sake of her fortune, and her whole life was +one of martyrdom. Of a loving, timid, sensitive disposition, she was +constantly being ill-treated by the man who ought to have been my father, +one of those boors called country gentlemen. A month after their marriage +he was living a licentious life and carrying on liaisons with the wives +and daughters of his tenants. This did not prevent him from having three +children by his wife, that is, if you count me in. My mother said +nothing, and lived in that noisy house like a little mouse. Set aside, +unnoticed, nervous, she looked at people with her bright, uneasy, +restless eyes, the eyes of some terrified creature which can never shake +off its fear. And yet she was pretty, very pretty and fair, a pale +blonde, as if her hair had lost its color through her constant fear. + +“Among the friends of Monsieur de Courcils who constantly came to her +chateau, there was an ex-cavalry officer, a widower, a man who was +feared, who was at the same time tender and violent, capable of the most +determined resolves, Monsieur de Bourneval, whose name I bear. He was a +tall, thin man, with a heavy black mustache. I am very like him. He was a +man who had read a great deal, and his ideas were not like those of most +of his class. His great-grandmother had been a friend of J. J. +Rousseau's, and one might have said that he had inherited something of +this ancestral connection. He knew the Contrat Social, and the Nouvelle +Heloise by heart, and all those philosophical books which prepared in +advance the overthrow of our old usages, prejudices, superannuated laws +and imbecile morality. + +“It seems that he loved my mother, and she loved him, but their liaison +was carried on so secretly that no one guessed at its existence. The +poor, neglected, unhappy woman must have clung to him in despair, and in +her intimacy with him must have imbibed all his ways of thinking, +theories of free thought, audacious ideas of independent love; but being +so timid she never ventured to speak out, and it was all driven back, +condensed, shut up in her heart. + +“My two brothers were very hard towards her, like their father, and never +gave her a caress, and, accustomed to seeing her count for nothing in the +house, they treated her rather like a servant. I was the only one of her +sons who really loved her and whom she loved. + +“When she died I was seventeen, and I must add, in order that you may +understand what follows, that a lawsuit between my father and mother had +been decided in my mother's favor, giving her the bulk of the property, +and, thanks to the tricks of the law, and the intelligent devotion of a +lawyer to her interests, the right to make her will in favor of whom she +pleased. + +“We were told that there was a will at the lawyer's office and were +invited to be present at the reading of it. I can remember it, as if it +were yesterday. It was an imposing scene, dramatic, burlesque and +surprising, occasioned by the posthumous revolt of that dead woman, by +the cry for liberty, by the demands of that martyred one who had been +crushed by our oppression during her lifetime and who, from her closed +tomb, uttered a despairing appeal for independence. + +“The man who believed he was my father, a stout, ruddy-faced man, who +looked like a butcher, and my brothers, two great fellows of twenty and +twenty-two, were waiting quietly in their chairs. Monsieur de Bourneval, +who had been invited to be present, came in and stood behind me. He was +very pale and bit his mustache, which was turning gray. No doubt he was +prepared for what was going to happen. The lawyer double-locked the door +and began to read the will, after having opened, in our presence, the +envelope, sealed with red wax, of the contents of which he was ignorant.” + +My friend stopped talking abruptly, and rising, took from his +writing-table an old paper, unfolded it, kissed it and then continued: +“This is the will of my beloved mother: + + “'I, the undersigned, Anne Catherine-Genevieve-Mathilde de + Croixluce, the legitimate wife of Leopold-Joseph Gontran de Councils + sound in body and mind, here express my last wishes. + + “I first of all ask God, and then my dear son Rene to pardon me for + the act I am about to commit. I believe that my child's heart is + great enough to understand me, and to forgive me. I have suffered + my whole life long. I was married out of calculation, then + despised, misunderstood, oppressed and constantly deceived by my + husband. + + “'I forgive him, but I owe him nothing. + + “'My elder sons never loved me, never petted me, scarcely treated me + as a mother, but during my whole life I did my duty towards them, + and I owe them nothing more after my death. The ties of blood + cannot exist without daily and constant affection. An ungrateful + son is less than, a stranger; he is a culprit, for he has no right + to be indifferent towards his mother. + + “'I have always trembled before men, before their unjust laws, their + inhuman customs, their shameful prejudices. Before God, I have no + longer any fear. Dead, I fling aside disgraceful hypocrisy; I dare + to speak my thoughts, and to avow and to sign the secret of my + heart. + + “'I therefore leave that part of my fortune of which the law allows + me to dispose, in trust to my dear lover, Pierre-Germer-Simon de + Bourneval, to revert afterwards to our dear son Rene. + + “'(This bequest is specified more precisely in a deed drawn + up by a notary.) + + “'And I declare before the Supreme Judge who hears me, that I should + have cursed heaven and my own existence, if I had not found the + deep, devoted, tender, unshaken affection of my lover; if I had not + felt in his arms that the Creator made His creatures to love, + sustain and console each other, and to weep together in the hours of + sadness. + + “'Monsieur de Courcils is the father of my two eldest sons; Rene, + alone, owes his life to Monsieur de Bourneval. I pray the Master of + men and of their destinies, to place father and son above social + prejudices, to make them love each other until they die, and to love + me also in my coffin. + + “'These are my last thoughts, and my last wish. + + “'MATHILDE DE CROIXLUCE.'” + +“Monsieur de Courcils had risen and he cried: + +“'It is the will of a madwoman.' + +“Then Monsieur de Bourneval stepped forward and said in a loud, +penetrating voice: 'I, Simon de Bourneval, solemnly declare that this +writing contains nothing but the strict truth, and I am ready to prove it +by letters which I possess.' + +“On hearing that, Monsieur de Courcils went up to him, and I 'thought +that they were going to attack each other. There they stood, both of them +tall, one stout and the other thin, both trembling. My mother's husband +stammered out: 'You are a worthless wretch!' And the other replied in a +loud, dry voice: 'We will meet elsewhere, monsieur. I should have already +slapped your ugly face and challenged you long since if I had not, before +everything else, thought of the peace of mind during her lifetime of that +poor woman whom you caused to suffer so greatly.' + +“Then, turning to me, he said: 'You are my son; will you come with me? I +have no right to take you away, but I shall assume it, if you are willing +to come with me: I shook his hand without replying, and we went out +together. I was certainly three parts mad. + +“Two days later Monsieur de Bourneval killed Monsieur de Courcils in a +duel. My brothers, to avoid a terrible scandal, held their tongues. I +offered them and they accepted half the fortune which my mother had left +me. I took my real father's name, renouncing that which the law gave me, +but which was not really mine. Monsieur de Bourneval died three years +later and I am still inconsolable.” + +He rose from his chair, walked up and down the room, and, standing in +front of me, said: + +“Well, I say that my mother's will was one of the most beautiful, the +most loyal, as well as one of the grandest acts that a woman could +perform. Do you not think so?” + +I held out both hands to him, saying: + +“I most certainly do, my friend.” + + + + +WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE + +Ever since he entered France with the invading army Walter Schnaffs had +considered himself the most unfortunate of men. He was large, had +difficulty in walking, was short of breath and suffered frightfully with +his feet, which were very flat and very fat. But he was a peaceful, +benevolent man, not warlike or sanguinary, the father of four children +whom he adored, and married to a little blonde whose little tendernesses, +attentions and kisses he recalled with despair every evening. He liked to +rise late and retire early, to eat good things in a leisurely manner and +to drink beer in the saloon. He reflected, besides, that all that is +sweet in existence vanishes with life, and he maintained in his heart a +fearful hatred, instinctive as well as logical, for cannon, rifles, +revolvers and swords, but especially for bayonets, feeling that he was +unable to dodge this dangerous weapon rapidly enough to protect his big +paunch. + +And when night fell and he lay on the ground, wrapped in his cape beside +his comrades who were snoring, he thought long and deeply about those he +had left behind and of the dangers in his path. “If he were killed what +would become of the little ones? Who would provide for them and bring +them up?” Just at present they were not rich, although he had borrowed +when he left so as to leave them some money. And Walter Schnaffs wept +when he thought of all this. + +At the beginning of a battle his legs became so weak that he would have +fallen if he had not reflected that the entire army would pass over his +body. The whistling of the bullets gave him gooseflesh. + +For months he had lived thus in terror and anguish. + +His company was marching on Normandy, and one day he was sent to +reconnoitre with a small detachment, simply to explore a portion of the +territory and to return at once. All seemed quiet in the country; nothing +indicated an armed resistance. + +But as the Prussians were quietly descending into a little valley +traversed by deep ravines a sharp fusillade made them halt suddenly, +killing twenty of their men, and a company of sharpshooters, suddenly +emerging from a little wood as large as your hand, darted forward with +bayonets at the end of their rifles. + +Walter Schnaffs remained motionless at first, so surprised and bewildered +that he did not even think of making his escape. Then he was seized with +a wild desire to run away, but he remembered at once that he ran like a +tortoise compared with those thin Frenchmen, who came bounding along like +a lot of goats. Perceiving a large ditch full of brushwood covered with +dead leaves about six paces in front of him, he sprang into it with both +feet together, without stopping to think of its depth, just as one jumps +from a bridge into the river. + +He fell like an arrow through a thick layer of vines and thorny brambles +that tore his face and hands and landed heavily in a sitting posture on a +bed of stones. Raising his eyes, he saw the sky through the hole he had +made in falling through. This aperture might betray him, and he crawled +along carefully on hands and knees at the bottom of this ditch beneath +the covering of interlacing branches, going as fast as he could and +getting away from the scene of the skirmish. Presently he stopped and sat +down, crouched like a hare amid the tall dry grass. + +He heard firing and cries and groans going on for some time. Then the +noise of fighting grew fainter and ceased. All was quiet and silent. + +Suddenly something stirred, beside him. He was frightfully startled. It +was a little bird which had perched on a branch and was moving the dead +leaves. For almost an hour Walter Schnaffs' heart beat loud and rapidly. + +Night fell, filling the ravine with its shadows. The soldier began to +think. What was he to do? What was to become of him? Should he rejoin the +army? But how? By what road? And he began over again the horrible life of +anguish, of terror, of fatigue and suffering that he had led since the +commencement of the war. No! He no longer had the courage! He would not +have the energy necessary to endure long marches and to face the dangers +to which one was exposed at every moment. + +But what should he do? He could not stay in this ravine in concealment +until the end of hostilities. No, indeed! If it were not for having to +eat, this prospect would not have daunted him greatly. But he had to eat, +to eat every day. + +And here he was, alone, armed and in uniform, on the enemy's territory, +far from those who would protect him. A shiver ran over him. + +All at once he thought: “If I were only a prisoner!” And his heart +quivered with a longing, an intense desire to be taken prisoner by the +French. A prisoner, he would be saved, fed, housed, sheltered from +bullets and swords, without any apprehension whatever, in a good, +well-kept prison. A prisoner! What a dream: + +His resolution was formed at once. + +“I will constitute myself a prisoner.” + +He rose, determined to put this plan into execution without a moment's +delay. But he stood motionless, suddenly a prey to disturbing reflections +and fresh terrors. + +Where would he make himself a prisoner and how? In What direction? And +frightful pictures, pictures of death came into his mind. + +He would run terrible danger in venturing alone through the country with +his pointed helmet. + +Supposing he should meet some peasants. These peasants seeing a Prussian +who had lost his way, an unprotected Prussian, would kill him as if he +were a stray dog! They would murder him with their forks, their picks, +their scythes and their shovels. They would make a stew of him, a pie, +with the frenzy of exasperated, conquered enemies. + +If he should meet the sharpshooters! These sharpshooters, madmen without +law or discipline, would shoot him just for amusement to pass an hour; it +would make them laugh to see his head. And he fancied he was already +leaning against a wall in-front of four rifles whose little black +apertures seemed to be gazing at him. + +Supposing he should meet the French army itself. The vanguard would take +him for a scout, for some bold and sly trooper who had set off alone to +reconnoitre, and they would fire at him. And he could already hear, in +imagination, the irregular shots of soldiers lying in the brush, while he +himself, standing in the middle of the field, was sinking to the earth, +riddled like a sieve with bullets which he felt piercing his flesh. + +He sat down again in despair. His situation seemed hopeless. + +It was quite a dark, black and silent night. He no longer budged, +trembling at all the slight and unfamiliar sounds that occur at night. +The sound of a rabbit crouching at the edge of his burrow almost made him +run. The cry of an owl caused him positive anguish, giving him a nervous +shock that pained like a wound. He opened his big eyes as wide as +possible to try and see through the darkness, and he imagined every +moment that he heard someone walking close beside him. + +After interminable hours in which he suffered the tortures of the damned, +he noticed through his leafy cover that the sky was becoming bright. He +at once felt an intense relief. His limbs stretched out, suddenly +relaxed, his heart quieted down, his eyes closed; he fell asleep. + +When he awoke the sun appeared to be almost at the meridian. It must be +noon. No sound disturbed the gloomy silence. Walter Schnaffs noticed that +he was exceedingly hungry. + +He yawned, his mouth watering at the thought of sausage, the good sausage +the soldiers have, and he felt a gnawing at his stomach. + +He rose from the ground, walked a few steps, found that his legs were +weak and sat down to reflect. For two or three hours he again considered +the pros and cons, changing his mind every moment, baffled, unhappy, torn +by the most conflicting motives. + +Finally he had an idea that seemed logical and practical. It was to watch +for a villager passing by alone, unarmed and with no dangerous tools of +his trade, and to run to him and give himself up, making him understand +that he was surrendering. + +He took off his helmet, the point of which might betray him, and put his +head out of his hiding place with the utmost caution. + +No solitary pedestrian could be perceived on the horizon. Yonder, to the +right, smoke rose from the chimney of a little village, smoke from +kitchen fires! And yonder, to the left, he saw at the end of an avenue of +trees a large turreted chateau. He waited till evening, suffering +frightfully from hunger, seeing nothing but flights of crows, hearing +nothing but the silent expostulation of his empty stomach. + +And darkness once more fell on him. + +He stretched himself out in his retreat and slept a feverish sleep, +haunted by nightmares, the sleep of a starving man. + +Dawn again broke above his head and he began to make his observations. +But the landscape was deserted as on the previous day, and a new fear +came into Walter Schnaffs' mind--the fear of death by hunger! He +pictured himself lying at full length on his back at the bottom of his +hiding place, with his two eyes closed, and animals, little creatures of +all kinds, approached and began to feed on his dead body, attacking it +all over at once, gliding beneath his clothing to bite his cold flesh, +and a big crow pecked out his eyes with its sharp beak. + +He almost became crazy, thinking he was going to faint and would not be +able to walk. And he was just preparing to rush off to the village, +determined to dare anything, to brave everything, when he perceived three +peasants walking to the fields with their forks across their shoulders, +and he dived back into his hiding place. + +But as soon as it grew dark he slowly emerged from the ditch and started +off, stooping and fearful, with beating heart, towards the distant +chateau, preferring to go there rather than to the village, which seemed +to him as formidable as a den of tigers. + +The lower windows were brilliantly lighted. One of them was open and from +it escaped a strong odor of roast meat, an odor which suddenly penetrated +to the olfactories and to the stomach of Walter Schnaffs, tickling his +nerves, making him breathe quickly, attracting him irresistibly and +inspiring his heart with the boldness of desperation. + +And abruptly, without reflection, he placed himself, helmet on head, in +front of the window. + +Eight servants were at dinner around a large table. But suddenly one of +the maids sat there, her mouth agape, her eyes fixed and letting fall her +glass. They all followed the direction of her gaze. + +They saw the enemy! + +Good God! The Prussians were attacking the chateau! + +There was a shriek, only one shriek made up of eight shrieks uttered in +eight different keys, a terrific screaming of terror, then a tumultuous +rising from their seats, a jostling, a scrimmage and a wild rush to the +door at the farther end. Chairs fell over, the men knocked the women down +and walked over them. In two seconds the room was empty, deserted, and +the table, covered with eatables, stood in front of Walter Schnaffs, lost +in amazement and still standing at the window. + +After some moments of hesitation he climbed in at the window and +approached the table. His fierce hunger caused him to tremble as if he +were in a fever, but fear still held him back, numbed him. He listened. +The entire house seemed to shudder. Doors closed, quick steps ran along +the floor above. The uneasy Prussian listened eagerly to these confused +sounds. Then he heard dull sounds, as though bodies were falling to the +ground at the foot of the walls, human beings jumping from the first +floor. + +Then all motion, all disturbance ceased, and the great chateau became as +silent as the grave. + +Walter Schnaffs sat down before a clean plate and began to eat. He took +great mouthfuls, as if he feared he might be interrupted before he had +swallowed enough. He shovelled the food into his mouth, open like a trap, +with both hands, and chunks of food went into his stomach, swelling out +his throat as it passed down. Now and then he stopped, almost ready to +burst like a stopped-up pipe. Then he would take the cider jug and wash +down his esophagus as one washes out a clogged rain pipe. + +He emptied all the plates, all the dishes and all the bottles. Then, +intoxicated with drink and food, besotted, red in the face, shaken by +hiccoughs, his mind clouded and his speech thick, he unbuttoned his +uniform in order to breathe or he could not have taken a step. His eyes +closed, his mind became torpid; he leaned his heavy forehead on his +folded arms on the table and gradually lost all consciousness of things +and events. + +The last quarter of the moon above the trees in the park shed a faint +light on the landscape. It was the chill hour that precedes the dawn. + +Numerous silent shadows glided among the trees and occasionally a blade +of steel gleamed in the shadow as a ray of moonlight struck it. + +The quiet chateau stood there in dark outline. Only two windows were +still lighted up on the ground floor. + +Suddenly a voice thundered: + +“Forward! nom d'un nom! To the breach, my lads!” + +And in an instant the doors, shutters and window panes fell in beneath a +wave of men who rushed in, breaking, destroying everything, and took the +house by storm. In a moment fifty soldiers, armed to the teeth, bounded +into the kitchen, where Walter Schnaffs was peacefully sleeping, and +placing to his breast fifty loaded rifles, they overturned him, rolled +him on the floor, seized him and tied his head and feet together. + +He gasped in amazement, too besotted to understand, perplexed, bruised +and wild with fear. + +Suddenly a big soldier, covered with gold lace, put his foot on his +stomach, shouting: + +“You are my prisoner. Surrender!” + +The Prussian heard only the one word “prisoner” and he sighed, “Ya, ya, +ya.” + +He was raised from the floor, tied in a chair and examined with lively +curiosity by his victors, who were blowing like whales. Several of them +sat down, done up with excitement and fatigue. + +He smiled, actually smiled, secure now that he was at last a prisoner. + +Another officer came into the room and said: + +“Colonel, the enemy has escaped; several seem to have been wounded. We +are in possession.” + +The big officer, who was wiping his forehead, exclaimed: “Victory!” + +And he wrote in a little business memorandum book which he took from his +pocket: + +“After a desperate encounter the Prussians were obliged to beat a +retreat, carrying with them their dead and wounded, the number of whom is +estimated at fifty men. Several were taken prisoners.” + +The young officer inquired: + +“What steps shall I take, colonel?” + +“We will retire in good order,” replied the colonel, “to avoid having to +return and make another attack with artillery and a larger force of men.” + +And he gave the command to set out. + +The column drew up in line in the darkness beneath the walls of the +chateau and filed out, a guard of six soldiers with revolvers in their +hands surrounding Walter Schnaffs, who was firmly bound. + +Scouts were sent ahead to reconnoitre. They advanced cautiously, halting +from time to time. + +At daybreak they arrived at the district of La Roche-Oysel, whose +national guard had accomplished this feat of arms. + +The uneasy and excited inhabitants were expecting them. When they saw the +prisoner's helmet tremendous shouts arose. The women raised their 10 arms +in wonder, the old people wept. An old grandfather threw his crutch at +the Prussian and struck the nose of one of their own defenders. + +The colonel roared: + +“See that the prisoner is secure!” + +At length they reached the town hall. The prison was opened and Walter +Schnaffs, freed from his bonds, cast into it. Two hundred armed men +mounted guard outside the building. + +Then, in spite of the indigestion that had been troubling him for some +time, the Prussian, wild with joy, began to dance about, to dance +frantically, throwing out his arms and legs and uttering wild shouts +until he fell down exhausted beside the wall. + +He was a prisoner-saved! + +That was how the Chateau de Charnpignet was taken from the enemy after +only six hours of occupation. + +Colonel Ratier, a cloth merchant, who had led the assault at the head of +a body of the national guard of La Roche-Oysel, was decorated with an +order. + + + + +AT SEA + +The following paragraphs recently appeared in the papers: + +“Boulogne-Sur-Mer, January 22.--Our correspondent writes: + +“A fearful accident has thrown our sea-faring population, which has +suffered so much in the last two years, into the greatest consternation. +The fishing smack commanded by Captain Javel, on entering the harbor was +wrecked on the rocks of the harbor breakwater. + +“In spite of the efforts of the life boat and the shooting of life lines +from the shore four sailors and the cabin boy were lost. + +“The rough weather continues. Fresh disasters are anticipated.” + +Who is this Captain Javel? Is he the brother of the one-armed man? + +If the poor man tossed about in the waves and dead, perhaps, beneath his +wrecked boat, is the one I am thinking of, he took part, just eighteen +years ago, in another tragedy, terrible and simple as are all these +fearful tragedies of the sea. + +Javel, senior, was then master of a trawling smack. + +The trawling smack is the ideal fishing boat. So solidly built that it +fears no weather, with a round bottom, tossed about unceasingly on the +waves like a cork, always on top, always thrashed by the harsh salt winds +of the English Channel, it ploughs the sea unweariedly with bellying +sail, dragging along at its side a huge trawling net, which scours the +depths of the ocean, and detaches and gathers in all the animals asleep +in the rocks, the flat fish glued to the sand, the heavy crabs with their +curved claws, and the lobsters with their pointed mustaches. + +When the breeze is fresh and the sea choppy, the boat starts in to trawl. +The net is fastened all along a big log of wood clamped with iron and is +let down by two ropes on pulleys at either end of the boat. And the boat, +driven by the wind and the tide, draws along this apparatus which +ransacks and plunders the depths of the sea. + +Javel had on board his younger brother, four sailors and a cabin boy. He +had set sail from Boulogne on a beautiful day to go trawling. + +But presently a wind sprang up, and a hurricane obliged the smack to run +to shore. She gained the English coast, but the high sea broke against +the rocks and dashed on the beach, making it impossible to go into port, +filling all the harbor entrances with foam and noise and danger. + +The smack started off again, riding on the waves, tossed, shaken, +dripping, buffeted by masses of water, but game in spite of everything; +accustomed to this boisterous weather, which sometimes kept it roving +between the two neighboring countries without its being able to make port +in either. + +At length the hurricane calmed down just as they were in the open, and +although the sea was still high the captain gave orders to cast the net. + +So it was lifted overboard, and two men in the bows and two in the stern +began to unwind the ropes that held it. It suddenly touched bottom, but a +big wave made the boat heel, and Javel, junior, who was in the bows +directing the lowering of the net, staggered, and his arm was caught in +the rope which the shock had slipped from the pulley for an instant. He +made a desperate effort to raise the rope with the other hand, but the +net was down and the taut rope did not give. + +The man cried out in agony. They all ran to his aid. His brother left the +rudder. They all seized the rope, trying to free the arm it was bruising. +But in vain. “We must cut it,” said a sailor, and he took from his pocket +a big knife, which, with two strokes, could save young Javel's arm. + +But if the rope were cut the trawling net would be lost, and this net was +worth money, a great deal of money, fifteen hundred francs. And it +belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. + +“No, do not cut, wait, I will luff,” he cried, in great distress. And he +ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, +being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented +also by the force of the tide and the wind. + +Javel, junior, had sunk on his knees, his teeth clenched, his eyes +haggard. He did not utter a word. His brother came back to him, in dread +of the sailor's knife. + +“Wait, wait,” he said. “We will let down the anchor.” + +They cast anchor, and then began to turn the capstan to loosen the +moorings of the net. They loosened them at length and disengaged the +imprisoned arm, in its bloody woolen sleeve. + +Young Javel seemed like an idiot. They took off his jersey and saw a +horrible sight, a mass of flesh from which the blood spurted as if from a +pump. Then the young man looked at his arm and murmured: “Foutu” (done +for). + +Then, as the blood was making a pool on the deck of the boat, one of the +sailors cried: “He will bleed to death, we must bind the vein.” + +So they took a cord, a thick, brown, tarry cord, and twisting it around +the arm above the wound, tightened it with all their might. The blood +ceased to spurt by slow degrees, and, presently, stopped altogether. + +Young Javel rose, his arm hanging at his side. He took hold of it with +the other hand, raised it, turned it over, shook it. It was all mashed, +the bones broken, the muscles alone holding it together. He looked at it +sadly, reflectively. Then he sat down on a folded sail and his comrades +advised him to keep wetting the arm constantly to prevent it from +mortifying. + +They placed a pail of water beside him, and every few minutes he dipped a +glass into it and bathed the frightful wound, letting the clear water +trickle on to it. + +“You would be better in the cabin,” said his brother. He went down, but +came up again in an hour, not caring to be alone. And, besides, he +preferred the fresh air. He sat down again on his sail and began to bathe +his arm. + +They made a good haul. The broad fish with their white bellies lay beside +him, quivering in the throes of death; he looked at them as he continued +to bathe his crushed flesh. + +As they were about to return to Boulogne the wind sprang up anew, and the +little boat resumed its mad course, bounding and tumbling about, shaking +up the poor wounded man. + +Night came on. The sea ran high until dawn. As the sun rose the English +coast was again visible, but, as the weather had abated a little, they +turned back towards the French coast, tacking as they went. + +Towards evening Javel, junior, called his comrades and showed them some +black spots, all the horrible tokens of mortification in the portion of +the arm below the broken bones. + +The sailors examined it, giving their opinion. + +“That might be the 'Black,'” thought one. + +“He should put salt water on it,” said another. + +They brought some salt water and poured it on the wound. The injured man +became livid, ground his teeth and writhed a little, but did not exclaim. + +Then, as soon as the smarting had abated, he said to his brother: + +“Give me your knife.” + +The brother handed it to him. + +“Hold my arm up, quite straight, and pull it.” + +They did as he asked them. + +Then he began to cut off his arm. He cut gently, carefully, severing al +the tendons with this blade that was sharp as a razor. And, presently, +there was only a stump left. He gave a deep sigh and said: + +“It had to be done. It was done for.” + +He seemed relieved and breathed loud. He then began again to pour water +on the stump of arm that remained. + +The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. + +When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm +and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also +examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it +over, and sniffing at it. + +“You must throw that into the sea at once,” said his brother. + +But Javel, junior, got angry. + +“Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it is +my arm?” + +And he took and placed it between his feet. + +“It will putrefy, just the same,” said the older brother. Then an idea +came to the injured man. In order to preserve the fish when the boat was +long at sea, they packed it in salt, in barrels. He asked: + +“Why can I not put it in pickle?” + +“Why, that's a fact,” exclaimed the others. + +Then they emptied one of the barrels, which was full from the haul of the +last few days; and right at the bottom of the barrel they laid the +detached arm. They covered it with salt, and then put back the fish one +by one. + +One of the sailors said by way of joke: + +“I hope we do not sell it at auction.” + +And everyone laughed, except the two Javels. + +The wind was still boisterous. They tacked within sight of Boulogne until +the following morning at ten o'clock. Young Javel continued to bathe his +wound. From time to time he rose and walked from one end to the other of +the boat. + +His brother, who was at the tiller, followed him with glances, and shook +his head. + +At last they ran into harbor. + +The doctor examined the wound and pronounced it to be in good condition. +He dressed it properly and ordered the patient to rest. But Javel would +not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once +to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross. + +It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved +in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel +he had brought for the purpose and took it home. + +His wife and children looked for a long time at this fragment of their +father, feeling the fingers, and removing the grains of salt that were +under the nails. Then they sent for a carpenter to make a little coffin. + +The next day the entire crew of the trawling smack followed the funeral +of the detached arm. The two brothers, side by side, led the procession; +the parish beadle carried the corpse under his arm. + +Javel, junior, gave up the sea. He obtained a small position on the dock, +and when he subsequently talked about his accident, he would say +confidentially to his auditors: + +“If my brother had been willing to cut away the net, I should still have +my arm, that is sure. But he was thinking only of his property.” + + + + +MINUET + +Great misfortunes do not affect me very much, said John Bridelle, an old +bachelor who passed for a sceptic. I have seen war at quite close +quarters; I walked across corpses without any feeling of pity. The great +brutal facts of nature, or of humanity, may call forth cries of horror or +indignation, but do not cause us that tightening of the heart, that +shudder that goes down your spine at sight of certain little heartrending +episodes. + +The greatest sorrow that anyone can experience is certainly the loss of a +child, to a mother; and the loss of his mother, to a man. It is intense, +terrible, it rends your heart and upsets your mind; but one is healed of +these shocks, just as large bleeding wounds become healed. Certain +meetings, certain things half perceived, or surmised, certain secret +sorrows, certain tricks of fate which awake in us a whole world of +painful thoughts, which suddenly unclose to us the mysterious door of +moral suffering, complicated, incurable; all the deeper because they +appear benign, all the more bitter because they are intangible, all the +more tenacious because they appear almost factitious, leave in our souls +a sort of trail of sadness, a taste of bitterness, a feeling of +disenchantment, from which it takes a long time to free ourselves. + +I have always present to my mind two or three things that others would +surely not have noticed, but which penetrated my being like fine, sharp +incurable stings. + +You might not perhaps understand the emotion that I retained from these +hasty impressions. I will tell you one of them. She was very old, but as +lively as a young girl. It may be that my imagination alone is +responsible for my emotion. + +I am fifty. I was young then and studying law. I was rather sad, somewhat +of a dreamer, full of a pessimistic philosophy and did not care much for +noisy cafes, boisterous companions, or stupid girls. I rose early and one +of my chief enjoyments was to walk alone about eight o'clock in the +morning in the nursery garden of the Luxembourg. + +You people never knew that nursery garden. It was like a forgotten garden +of the last century, as pretty as the gentle smile of an old lady. Thick +hedges divided the narrow regular paths,--peaceful paths between two +walls of carefully trimmed foliage. The gardener's great shears were +pruning unceasingly these leafy partitions, and here and there one came +across beds of flowers, lines of little trees looking like schoolboys out +for a walk, companies of magnificent rose bushes, or regiments of fruit +trees. + +An entire corner of this charming spot was in habited by bees. Their +straw hives skillfully arranged at distances on boards had their +entrances--as large as the opening of a thimble--turned towards +the sun, and all along the paths one encountered these humming and gilded +flies, the true masters of this peaceful spot, the real promenaders of +these quiet paths. + +I came there almost every morning. I sat down on a bench and read. +Sometimes I let my book fall on my knees, to dream, to listen to the life +of Paris around me, and to enjoy the infinite repose of these +old-fashioned hedges. + +But I soon perceived that I was not the only one to frequent this spot as +soon as the gates were opened, and I occasionally met face to face, at a +turn in the path, a strange little old man. + +He wore shoes with silver buckles, knee-breeches, a snuff-colored frock +coat, a lace jabot, and an outlandish gray hat with wide brim and +long-haired surface that might have come out of the ark. + +He was thin, very thin, angular, grimacing and smiling. His bright eyes +were restless beneath his eyelids which blinked continuously. He always +carried in his hand a superb cane with a gold knob, which must have been +for him some glorious souvenir. + +This good man astonished me at first, then caused me the intensest +interest. I watched him through the leafy walls, I followed him at a +distance, stopping at a turn in the hedge so as not to be seen. + +And one morning when he thought he was quite alone, he began to make the +most remarkable motions. First he would give some little springs, then +make a bow; then, with his slim legs, he would give a lively spring in +the air, clapping his feet as he did so, and then turn round cleverly, +skipping and frisking about in a comical manner, smiling as if he had an +audience, twisting his poor little puppet-like body, bowing pathetic and +ridiculous little greetings into the empty air. He was dancing. + +I stood petrified with amazement, asking myself which of us was crazy, he +or I. + +He stopped suddenly, advanced as actors do on the stage, then bowed and +retreated with gracious smiles, and kissing his hand as actors do, his +trembling hand, to the two rows of trimmed bushes. + +Then he continued his walk with a solemn demeanor. + +After that I never lost sight of him, and each morning he began anew his +outlandish exercises. + +I was wildly anxious to speak to him. I decided to risk it, and one day, +after greeting him, I said: + +“It is a beautiful day, monsieur.” + +He bowed. + +“Yes, sir, the weather is just as it used to be.” + +A week later we were friends and I knew his history. He had been a +dancing master at the opera, in the time of Louis XV. His beautiful cane +was a present from the Comte de Clermont. And when we spoke about dancing +he never stopping talking. + +One day he said to me: + +“I married La Castris, monsieur. I will introduce you to her if you wish +it, but she does not get here till later. This garden, you see, is our +delight and our life. It is all that remains of former days. It seems as +though we could not exist if we did not have it. It is old and distingue, +is it not? I seem to breathe an air here that has not changed since I was +young. My wife and I pass all our afternoons here, but I come in the +morning because I get up early.” + +As soon as I had finished luncheon I returned to the Luxembourg, and +presently perceived my friend offering his arm ceremoniously to a very +old little lady dressed in black, to whom he introduced me. It was La +Castris, the great dancer, beloved by princes, beloved by the king, +beloved by all that century of gallantry that seems to have left behind +it in the world an atmosphere of love. + +We sat down on a bench. It was the month of May. An odor of flowers +floated in the neat paths; a hot sun glided its rays between the branches +and covered us with patches of light. The black dress of La Castris +seemed to be saturated with sunlight. + +The garden was empty. We heard the rattling of vehicles in the distance. + +“Tell me,” I said to the old dancer, “what was the minuet?” + +He gave a start. + +“The minuet, monsieur, is the queen of dances, and the dance of queens, +do you understand? Since there is no longer any royalty, there is no +longer any minuet.” + +And he began in a pompous manner a long dithyrambic eulogy which I could +not understand. I wanted to have the steps, the movements, the positions, +explained to me. He became confused, was amazed at his inability to make +me understand, became nervous and worried. + +Then suddenly, turning to his old companion who had remained silent and +serious, he said: + +“Elise, would you like--say--would you like, it would be very +nice of you, would you like to show this gentleman what it was?” + +She turned eyes uneasily in all directions, then rose without saying a +word and took her position opposite him. + +Then I witnessed an unheard-of thing. + +They advanced and retreated with childlike grimaces, smiling, swinging +each other, bowing, skipping about like two automaton dolls moved by some +old mechanical contrivance, somewhat damaged, but made by a clever +workman according to the fashion of his time. + +And I looked at them, my heart filled with extraordinary emotions, my +soul touched with an indescribable melancholy. I seemed to see before me +a pathetic and comical apparition, the out-of-date ghost of a former +century. + +They suddenly stopped. They had finished all the figures of the dance. +For some seconds they stood opposite each other, smiling in an +astonishing manner. Then they fell on each other's necks sobbing. + +I left for the provinces three days later. I never saw them again. When I +returned to Paris, two years later, the nursery had been destroyed. What +became of them, deprived of the dear garden of former days, with its +mazes, its odor of the past, and the graceful windings of its hedges? + +Are they dead? Are they wandering among modern streets like hopeless +exiles? Are they dancing--grotesque spectres--a fantastic +minuet in the moonlight, amid the cypresses of a cemetery, along the +pathways bordered by graves? + +Their memory haunts me, obsesses me, torments me, remains with me like a +wound. Why? I do not know. + +No doubt you think that very absurd? + + + + +THE SON + +The two old friends were walking in the garden in bloom, where spring was +bringing everything to life. + +One was a senator, the other a member of the French Academy, both serious +men, full of very logical but solemn arguments, men of note and +reputation. + +They talked first of politics, exchanging opinions; not on ideas, but on +men, personalities in this regard taking the predominance over ability. +Then they recalled some memories. Then they walked along in silence, +enervated by the warmth of the air. + +A large bed of wallflowers breathed out a delicate sweetness. A mass of +flowers of all species and color flung their fragrance to the breeze, +while a cytisus covered with yellow clusters scattered its fine pollen +abroad, a golden cloud, with an odor of honey that bore its balmy seed +across space, similar to the sachet-powders of perfumers. + +The senator stopped, breathed in the cloud of floating pollen, looked at +the fertile shrub, yellow as the sun, whose seed was floating in the air, +and said: + +“When one considers that these imperceptible fragrant atoms will create +existences at a hundred leagues from here, will send a thrill through the +fibres and sap of female trees and produce beings with roots, growing +from a germ, just as we do, mortal like ourselves, and who will be +replaced by other beings of the same order, like ourselves again!” + +And, standing in front of the brilliant cytisus, whose live pollen was +shaken off by each breath of air, the senator added: + +“Ah, old fellow, if you had to keep count of all your children you would +be mightily embarrassed. Here is one who generates freely, and then lets +them go without a pang and troubles himself no more about them.” + +“We do the same, my friend,” said the academician. + +“Yes, I do not deny it; we let them go sometimes,” resumed the senator, +“but we are aware that we do, and that constitutes our superiority.” + +“No, that is not what I mean,” said the other, shaking his head. “You +see, my friend, that there is scarcely a man who has not some children +that he does not know, children--'father unknown'--whom he has +generated almost unconsciously, just as this tree reproduces. + +“If we had to keep account of our amours, we should be just as +embarrassed as this cytisus which you apostrophized would be in counting +up his descendants, should we not? + +“From eighteen to forty years, in fact, counting in every chance cursory +acquaintanceship, we may well say that we have been intimate with two or +three hundred women. + +“Well, then, my friend, among this number can you be sure that you have +not had children by at least one of them, and that you have not in the +streets, or in the bagnio, some blackguard of a son who steals from and +murders decent people, i.e., ourselves; or else a daughter in some +disreputable place, or, if she has the good fortune to be deserted by her +mother, as cook in some family? + +“Consider, also, that almost all those whom we call 'prostitutes' have +one or two children of whose paternal parentage they are ignorant, +generated by chance at the price of ten or twenty francs. In every +business there is profit and loss. These wildings constitute the 'loss' +in their profession. Who generated them? You--I--we all did, +the men called 'gentlemen'! They are the consequences of our jovial +little dinners, of our gay evenings, of those hours when our comfortable +physical being impels us to chance liaisons. + +“Thieves, marauders, all these wretches, in fact, are our children. And +that is better for us than if we were their children, for those +scoundrels generate also! + +“I have in my mind a very horrible story that I will relate to you. It +has caused me incessant remorse, and, further than that, a continual +doubt, a disquieting uncertainty, that, at times, torments me +frightfully. + +“When I was twenty-five I undertook a walking tour through Brittany with +one of my friends, now a member of the cabinet. + +“After walking steadily for fifteen or twenty days and visiting the +Cotes-du-Nord and part of Finistere we reached Douarnenez. From there we +went without halting to the wild promontory of Raz by the bay of Les +Trepaases, and passed the night in a village whose name ends in 'of.' The +next morning a strange lassitude kept my friend in bed; I say bed from +habit, for our couch consisted simply of two bundles of straw. + +“It would never do to be ill in this place. So I made him get up, and we +reached Andierne about four or five o'clock in the evening. + +“The following day he felt a little better, and we set out again. But on +the road he was seized with intolerable pain, and we could scarcely get +as far as Pont Labbe. + +“Here, at least, there was an inn. My friend went to bed, and the doctor, +who had been sent for from Quimper, announced that he had a high fever, +without being able to determine its nature. + +“Do you know Pont Labbe? No? Well, then, it is the most Breton of all +this Breton Brittany, which extends from the promontory of Raz to the +Morbihan, of this land which contains the essence of the Breton manners, +legends and customs. Even to-day this corner of the country has scarcely +changed. I say 'even to-day,' for I now go there every year, alas! + +“An old chateau laves the walls of its towers in a great melancholy pond, +melancholy and frequented by flights of wild birds. It has an outlet in a +river on which boats can navigate as far as the town. In the narrow +streets with their old-time houses the men wear big hats, embroidered +waistcoats and four coats, one on top of the other; the inside one, as +large as your hand, barely covering the shoulder-blades, and the outside +one coming to just above the seat of the trousers. + +“The girls, tall, handsome and fresh have their bosoms crushed in a cloth +bodice which makes an armor, compresses them, not allowing one even to +guess at their robust and tortured neck. They also wear a strange +headdress. On their temples two bands embroidered in colors frame their +face, inclosing the hair, which falls in a shower at the back of their +heads, and is then turned up and gathered on top of the head under a +singular cap, often woven with gold or silver thread. + +“The servant at our inn was eighteen at most, with very blue eyes, a pale +blue with two tiny black pupils, short teeth close together, which she +showed continually when she laughed, and which seemed strong enough to +grind granite. + +“She did not know a word of French, speaking only Breton, as did most of +her companions. + +“As my friend did not improve much, and although he had no definite +malady, the doctor forbade him to continue his journey yet, ordering +complete rest. I spent my days with him, and the little maid would come +in incessantly, bringing either my dinner or some herb tea. + +“I teased her a little, which seemed to amuse her, but we did not chat, +of course, as we could not understand each other. + +“But one night, after I had stayed quite late with my friend and was +going back to my room, I passed the girl, who was going to her room. It +was just opposite my open door, and, without reflection, and more for fun +than anything else, I abruptly seized her round the waist, and before she +recovered from her astonishment I had thrown her down and locked her in +my room. She looked at me, amazed, excited, terrified, not daring to cry +out for fear of a scandal and of being probably driven out, first by her +employers and then, perhaps, by her father. + +“I did it as a joke at first. She defended herself bravely, and at the +first chance she ran to the door, drew back the bolt and fled. + +“I scarcely saw her for several days. She would not let me come near her. +But when my friend was cured and we were to get out on our travels again +I saw her coming into my room about midnight the night before our +departure, just after I had retired. + +“She threw herself into my arms and embraced me passionately, giving me +all the assurances of tenderness and despair that a woman can give when +she does not know a word of our language. + +“A week later I had forgotten this adventure, so common and frequent when +one is travelling, the inn servants being generally destined to amuse +travellers in this way. + +“I was thirty before I thought of it again, or returned to Pont Labbe. + +“But in 1876 I revisited it by chance during a trip into Brittany, which +I made in order to look up some data for a book and to become permeated +with the atmosphere of the different places. + +“Nothing seemed changed. The chateau still laved its gray wall in the +pond outside the little town; the inn was the same, though it had been +repaired, renovated and looked more modern. As I entered it I was +received by two young Breton girls of eighteen, fresh and pretty, bound +up in their tight cloth bodices, with their silver caps and wide +embroidered bands on their ears. + +“It was about six o'clock in the evening. I sat down to dinner, and as +the host was assiduous in waiting on me himself, fate, no doubt, impelled +me to say: + +“'Did you know the former proprietors of this house? I spent about ten +days here thirty years ago. I am talking old times.' + +“'Those were my parents, monsieur,' he replied. + +“Then I told him why we had stayed over at that time, how my comrade had +been delayed by illness. He did not let me finish. + +“'Oh, I recollect perfectly. I was about fifteen or sixteen. You slept in +the room at the end and your friend in the one I have taken for myself, +overlooking the street.' + +“It was only then that the recollection of the little maid came vividly +to my mind. I asked: 'Do you remember a pretty little servant who was +then in your father's employ, and who had, if my memory does not deceive +me, pretty eyes and fresh-looking teeth?' + +“'Yes, monsieur; she died in childbirth some time after.' + +“And, pointing to the courtyard where a thin, lame man was stirring up +the manure, he added: + +“'That is her son.' + +“I began to laugh: + +“'He is not handsome and does not look much like his mother. No doubt he +looks like his father.' + +“'That is very possible,' replied the innkeeper; 'but we never knew whose +child it was. She died without telling any one, and no one here knew of +her having a beau. Every one was hugely astonished when they heard she +was enceinte, and no one would believe it.' + +“A sort of unpleasant chill came over me, one of those painful surface +wounds that affect us like the shadow of an impending sorrow. And I +looked at the man in the yard. He had just drawn water for the horses and +was carrying two buckets, limping as he walked, with a painful effort of +his shorter leg. His clothes were ragged, he was hideously dirty, with +long yellow hair, so tangled that it looked like strands of rope falling +down at either side of his face. + +“'He is not worth much,' continued the innkeeper; 'we have kept him for +charity's sake. Perhaps he would have turned out better if he had been +brought up like other folks. But what could one do, monsieur? No father, +no mother, no money! My parents took pity on him, but he was not their +child, you understand.' + +“I said nothing. + +“I slept in my old room, and all night long I thought of this frightful +stableman, saying to myself: 'Supposing it is my own son? Could I have +caused that girl's death and procreated this being? It was quite +possible!' + +“I resolved to speak to this man and to find out the exact date of his +birth. A variation of two months would set my doubts at rest. + +“I sent for him the next day. But he could not speak French. He looked as +if he could not understand anything, being absolutely ignorant of his +age, which I had inquired of him through one of the maids. He stood +before me like an idiot, twirling his hat in 'his knotted, disgusting +hands, laughing stupidly, with something of his mother's laugh in the +corners of his mouth and of his eyes. + +“The landlord, appearing on the scene, went to look for the birth +certificate of this wretched being. He was born eight months and +twenty-six days after my stay at Pont Labbe, for I recollect perfectly +that we reached Lorient on the fifteenth of August. The certificate +contained this description: 'Father unknown.' The mother called herself +Jeanne Kerradec. + +“Then my heart began to beat rapidly. I could not utter a word, for I +felt as if I were choking. I looked at this animal whose long yellow hair +reminded me of a straw heap, and the beggar, embarrassed by my gaze, +stopped laughing, turned his head aside, and wanted to get away. + +“All day long I wandered beside the little river, giving way to painful +reflections. But what was the use of reflection? I could be sure of +nothing. For hours and hours I weighed all the pros and cons in favor of +or against the probability of my being the father, growing nervous over +inexplicable suppositions, only to return incessantly to the same +horrible uncertainty, then to the still more atrocious conviction that +this man was my son. + +“I could eat no dinner, and went to my room. + +“I lay awake for a long time, and when I finally fell asleep I was +haunted by horrible visions. I saw this laborer laughing in my face and +calling me 'papa.' Then he changed into a dog and bit the calves of my +legs, and no matter how fast I ran he still followed me, and instead of +barking, talked and reviled me. Then he appeared before my colleagues at +the Academy, who had assembled to decide whether I was really his father; +and one of them cried out: 'There can be no doubt about it! See how he +resembles him.' And, indeed, I could see that this monster looked like +me. And I awoke with this idea fixed in my mind and with an insane desire +to see the man again and assure myself whether or not we had similar +features. + +“I joined him as he was going to mass (it was Sunday) and I gave him five +francs as I gazed at him anxiously. He began to laugh in an idiotic +manner, took the money, and then, embarrassed afresh at my gaze, he ran +off, after stammering an almost inarticulate word that, no doubt, meant +'thank you.' + +“My day passed in the same distress of mind as on the previous night. I +sent for the landlord, and, with the greatest caution, skill and tact, I +told him that I was interested in this poor creature, so abandoned by +every one and deprived of everything, and I wished to do something for +him. + +“But the man replied: 'Oh, do not think of it, monsieur; he is of no +account; you will only cause yourself annoyance. I employ him to clean +out the stable, and that is all he can do. I give him his board and let +him sleep with the horses. He needs nothing more. If you have an old pair +of trousers, you might give them to him, but they will be in rags in a +week.' + +“I did not insist, intending to think it over. + +“The poor wretch came home that evening frightfully drunk, came near +setting fire to the house, killed a horse by hitting it with a pickaxe, +and ended up by lying down to sleep in the mud in the midst of the +pouring rain, thanks to my donation. + +“They begged me next day not to give him any more money. Brandy drove him +crazy, and as soon as he had two sous in his pocket he would spend it in +drink. The landlord added: 'Giving him money is like trying to kill him.' +The man had never, never in his life had more than a few centimes, thrown +to him by travellers, and he knew of no destination for this metal but +the wine shop. + +“I spent several hours in my room with an open book before me which I +pretended to read, but in reality looking at this animal, my son! my son! +trying to discover if he looked anything like me. After careful scrutiny +I seemed to recognize a similarity in the lines of the forehead and the +root of the nose, and I was soon convinced that there was a resemblance, +concealed by the difference in garb and the man's hideous head of hair. + +“I could not stay here any longer without arousing suspicion, and I went +away, my heart crushed, leaving with the innkeeper some money to soften +the existence of his servant. + +“For six years now I have lived with this idea in my mind, this horrible +uncertainty, this abominable suspicion. And each year an irresistible +force takes me back to Pont Labbe. Every year I condemn myself to the +torture of seeing this animal raking the manure, imagining that he +resembles me, and endeavoring, always vainly, to render him some +assistance. And each year I return more uncertain, more tormented, more +worried. + +“I tried to have him taught, but he is a hopeless idiot. I tried to make +his life less hard. He is an irreclaimable drunkard, and spends in drink +all the money one gives him, and knows enough to sell his new clothes in +order to get brandy. + +“I tried to awaken his master's sympathy, so that he should look after +him, offering to pay him for doing so. The innkeeper, finally surprised, +said, very wisely: 'All that you do for him, monsieur, will only help to +destroy him. He must be kept like a prisoner. As soon as he has any spare +time, or any comfort, he becomes wicked. If you wish to do good, there is +no lack of abandoned children, but select one who will appreciate your +attention.' + +“What could I say? + +“If I allowed the slightest suspicion of the doubts that tortured me to +escape, this idiot would assuredly become cunning, in order to blackmail +me, to compromise me and ruin me. He would call out 'papa,' as in my +dream. + +“And I said to myself that I had killed the mother and lost this +atrophied creature, this larva of the stable, born and raised amid the +manure, this man who, if brought up like others, would have been like +others. + +“And you cannot imagine what a strange, embarrassed and intolerable +feeling comes over me when he stands before me and I reflect that he came +from myself, that he belongs to me through the intimate bond that links +father and son, that, thanks to the terrible law of heredity, he is my +own self in a thousand ways, in his blood and his flesh, and that he has +even the same germs of disease, the same leaven of emotions. + +“I have an incessant restless, distressing longing to see him, and the +sight of him causes me intense suffering, as I look down from my window +and watch him for hours removing and carting the horse manure, saying to +myself: 'That is my son.' + +“And I sometimes feel an irresistible longing to embrace him. I have +never even touched his dirty hand.” + +The academician was silent. His companion, a tactful man, murmured: “Yes, +indeed, we ought to take a closer interest in children who have no +father.” + +A gust of wind passing through the tree shook its yellow clusters, +enveloping in a fragrant and delicate mist the two old men, who inhaled +in the fragrance with deep breaths. + +The senator added: “It is good to be twenty-five and even to have +children like that.” + + + + +THAT PIG OF A MORIN + +“Here, my friend,” I said to Labarbe, “you have just repeated those five +words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I never hear Morin's name +mentioned without his being called a pig?” + +Labarbe, who is a deputy, looked at me with his owl-like eyes and said: +“Do you mean to say that you do not know Morin's story and you come from +La Rochelle?” I was obliged to declare that I did not know Morin's story, +so Labarbe rubbed his hands and began his recital. + +“You knew Morin, did you not, and you remember his large linen-draper's +shop on the Quai de la Rochelle?” + +“Yes, perfectly.” + +“Well, then. You must know that in 1862 or '63 Morin went to spend a +fortnight in Paris for pleasure; or for his pleasures, but under the +pretext of renewing his stock, and you also know what a fortnight in +Paris means to a country shopkeeper; it fires his blood. The theatre +every evening, women's dresses rustling up against you and continual +excitement; one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in +tights, actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all +nearly within reach of one's hands, without daring, or being able, to +touch them, and one scarcely tastes food. When one leaves the city one's +heart is still all in a flutter and one's mind still exhilarated by a +sort of longing for kisses which tickles one's lips. + +“Morin was in that condition when he took his ticket for La Rochelle by +the eight-forty night express. As he was walking up and down the +waiting-room at the station he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady +who was kissing an old one. She had her veil up, and Morin murmured with +delight: 'By Jove what a pretty woman!' + +“When she had said 'good-by' to the old lady she went into the +waiting-room, and Morin followed her; then she went on the platform and +Morin still followed her; then she got into an empty carriage, and he +again followed her. There were very few travellers on the express. The +engine whistled and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured +her with his eyes. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty and was +fair, tall, with a bold look. She wrapped a railway rug round her and +stretched herself on the seat to sleep. + +“Morin asked himself: 'I wonder who she is?' And a thousand conjectures, +a thousand projects went through his head. He said to himself: 'So many +adventures are told as happening on railway journeys that this may be one +that is going to present itself to me. Who knows? A piece of good luck +like that happens very suddenly, and perhaps I need only be a little +venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: 'Audacity, more audacity and +always audacity'? If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does not +matter. But then I have no audacity, and that is the difficulty. Oh! If +one only knew, if one could only read people's minds! I will bet that +every day one passes by magnificent opportunities without knowing it, +though a gesture would be enough to let me know her mind.' + +“Then he imagined to himself combinations which conducted him to triumph. +He pictured some chivalrous deed or merely some slight service which he +rendered her, a lively, gallant conversation which ended in a +declaration. + +“But he could find no opening, had no pretext, and he waited for some +fortunate circumstance, with his heart beating and his mind topsy-turvy. +The night passed and the pretty girl still slept, while Morin was +meditating his own fall. The day broke and soon the first ray of sunlight +appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face of the +sleeping girl and woke her. She sat up, looked at the country, then at +Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an engaging and +bright look, and Morin trembled. Certainly that smile was intended for +him; it was discreet invitation, the signal which he was waiting for. +That smile meant to say: 'How stupid, what a ninny, what a dolt, what a +donkey you are, to have sat there on your seat like a post all night! + +“'Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the +whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great +simpleton!' + +“She was still smiling as she looked at him; she even began to laugh; and +he lost his head trying to find something suitable to say, no matter +what. But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a +coward's courage, he said to himself: + +“'So much the worse, I will risk everything,' and suddenly, without the +slightest warning, he went toward her, his arms extended, his lips +protruding, and, seizing her in his arms, he kissed her. + +“She sprang up immediately with a bound, crying out: 'Help! help!' and +screaming with terror; and then she opened the carriage door and waved +her arm out, mad with terror and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was +almost distracted and feeling sure that she would throw herself out, held +her by the skirt and stammered: 'Oh, madame! oh, madame!' + +“The train slackened speed and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the +young woman's frantic signals. She threw herself into their arms, +stammering: 'That man wanted--wanted--to--to--' And then she fainted. + +“They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin. +When the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her +consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it +up. The poor linen draper did not reach home till night, with a +prosecution hanging over him for an outrage to morals in a public place.” + II + +“At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet +Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure. +he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not hide my +opinion from him, but said to him: 'You are no better than a pig. No +decent man behaves like that.' + +“He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade +ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends +scandalized and taking no notice of him. In the end he excited my pity, +and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little +man, to give us his advice. + +“He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine, +and so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate. He told me +that the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle +Henriette Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in +Paris and spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very +respectable tradespeople in Mauze. What made Morin's case all the more +serious was that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public +official had consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were +withdrawn, so we must try and get him to do this. + +“I went back to Morin's and found him in bed, ill with excitement and +distress. His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him +continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me: 'So you +have come to see that pig of a Morin. Well, there he is, the darling!' +And she planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips. +I told him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl's +uncle and aunt. It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the +poor devil never ceased repeating: 'I assure you I did not even kiss her; +no, not even that. I will take my oath to it!' + +“I replied: 'It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.' And I took a +thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I +did not care to venture to her uncle's house alone, I begged Rivet to go +with me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for +he had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon. So two hours +later we rang at the door of a pretty country house. An attractive girl +came and opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and +I said to Rivet in a low voice: 'Confound it! I begin to understand +Morin!' + +“The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent +political coreligionist of ours. He received us with open arms and +congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two +editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me: 'I think we shall be +able to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.' + +“The niece had left the room and I introduced the delicate subject. I +waved the spectre of scandal before his eyes; I accentuated the +inevitable depreciation which the young lady would suffer if such an +affair became known, for nobody would believe in a simple kiss, and the +good man seemed undecided, but he could not make up his mind about +anything without his wife, who would not be in until late that evening. +But suddenly he uttered an exclamation of triumph: 'Look here, I have an +excellent idea; I will keep you here to dine and sleep, and when my wife +comes home I hope we shall be able to arrange matters: + +“Rivet resisted at first, but the wish to extricate that pig of a Morin +decided him, and we accepted the invitation, and the uncle got up +radiant, called his niece and proposed that we should take a stroll in +his grounds, saying: 'We will leave serious matters until the morning.' +Rivet and he began to talk politics, while I soon found myself lagging a +little behind with 'the girl who was really charming--charming--and with +the greatest precaution I began to speak to her about her adventure and +try to make her my ally. She did not, however, appear the least confused, +and listened to me like a person who was enjoying the whole thing very +much. + +“I said to her: 'Just think, mademoiselle, how unpleasant it will be for +you. You will have to appear in court, to encounter malicious looks, to +speak before everybody and to recount that unfortunate occurrence in the +railway carriage in public. Do you not think, between ourselves, that it +would have been much better for you to have put that dirty scoundrel back +in his place without calling for assistance, and merely to change your +carriage?' She began to laugh and replied: 'What you say is quite true, +but what could I do? I was frightened, and when one is frightened one +does not stop to reason with one's self. As soon as I realized the +situation I was very sorry, that I had called out, but then it was too +late. You must also remember that the idiot threw himself upon me like a +madman, without saying a word and looking like a lunatic. I did not even +know what he wanted of me.' + +“She looked me full in the face without being nervous or intimidated and +I said to myself: 'She is a queer sort of girl, that: I can quite see how +that pig Morin came to make a mistake,' and I went on jokingly: 'Come, +mademoiselle, confess that he was excusable, for, after all, a man cannot +find himself opposite such a pretty girl as you are without feeling a +natural desire to kiss her.' + +“She laughed more than ever and showed her teeth and said: 'Between the +desire and the act, monsieur, there is room for respect.' It was an odd +expression to use, although it was not very clear, and I asked abruptly: +'Well, now, suppose I were to kiss you, what would you do?' She stopped +to look at me from head to foot and then said calmly: 'Oh, you? That is +quite another matter.' + +“I knew perfectly well, by Jove, that it was not the same thing at all, +as everybody in the neighborhood called me 'Handsome Labarbe'--I was +thirty years old in those days--but I asked her: 'And why, pray?' +She shrugged her shoulders and replied: 'Well! because you are not so +stupid as he is.' And then she added, looking at me slyly: 'Nor so ugly, +either: And before she could make a movement to avoid me I had implanted +a hearty kiss on her cheek. She sprang aside, but it was too late, and +then she said: 'Well, you are not very bashful, either! But don't do that +sort of thing again.' + +“I put on a humble look and said in a low voice: 'Oh, mademoiselle! as +for me, if I long for one thing more than another it is to be summoned +before a magistrate for the same reason as Morin.' + +“'Why?' she asked. And, looking steadily at her, I replied: 'Because you +are one of the most beautiful creatures living; because it would be an +honor and a glory for me to have wished to offer you violence, and +because people would have said, after seeing you: “Well, Labarbe has +richly deserved what he has got, but he is a lucky fellow, all the +same.”' + +“She began to laugh heartily again and said: 'How funny you are!' And she +had not finished the word 'funny' before I had her in my arms and was +kissing her ardently wherever I could find a place, on her forehead, on +her eyes, on her lips occasionally, on her cheeks, all over her head, +some part of which she was obliged to leave exposed, in spite of herself, +to defend the others; but at last she managed to release herself, +blushing and angry. 'You are very unmannerly, monsieur,' she said, 'and I +am sorry I listened to you.' + +“I took her hand in some confusion and stammered out: 'I beg your pardon. +I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I have offended you; I have acted like a +brute! Do not be angry with me for what I have done. If you knew--' +I vainly sought for some excuse, and in a few moments she said: 'There is +nothing for me to know, monsieur.' But I had found something to say, and +I cried: 'Mademoiselle, I love you!' + +“She was really surprised and raised her eyes to look at me, and I went +on: 'Yes, mademoiselle, and pray listen to me. I do not know Morin, and I +do not care anything about him. It does not matter to me the least if he +is committed for trial and locked up meanwhile. I saw you here last year, +and I was so taken with you that the thought of you has never left me +since, and it does not matter to me whether you believe me or not. I +thought you adorable, and the remembrance of you took such a hold on me +that I longed to see you again, and so I made use of that fool Morin as a +pretext, and here I am. Circumstances have made me exceed the due limits +of respect, and I can only beg you to pardon me.' + +“She looked at me to see if I was in earnest and was ready to smile +again. Then she murmured: 'You humbug!' But I raised my hand and said in +a sincere voice (and I really believe that I was sincere): 'I swear to +you that I am speaking the truth,' and she replied quite simply: 'Don't +talk nonsense!' + +“We were alone, quite alone, as Rivet and her uncle had disappeared down +a sidewalk, and I made her a real declaration of love, while I squeezed +and kissed her hands, and she listened to it as to something new and +agreeable, without exactly knowing how much of it she was to believe, +while in the end I felt agitated, and at last really myself believed what +I said. I was pale, anxious and trembling, and I gently put my arm round +her waist and spoke to her softly, whispering into the little curls over +her ears. She seemed in a trance, so absorbed in thought was she. + +“Then her hand touched mine, and she pressed it, and I gently squeezed +her waist with a trembling, and gradually firmer, grasp. She did not move +now, and I touched her cheek with my lips, and suddenly without seeking +them my lips met hers. It was a long, long kiss, and it would have lasted +longer still if I had not heard a hm! hm! just behind me, at which she +made her escape through the bushes, and turning round I saw Rivet coming +toward me, and, standing in the middle of the path, he said without even +smiling: 'So that is the way you settle the affair of that pig of a +Morin.' And I replied conceitedly: 'One does what one can, my dear +fellow. But what about the uncle? How have you got on with him? I will +answer for the niece.' 'I have not been so fortunate with him,' he +replied. + +“Whereupon I took his arm and we went indoors.” + III + +“Dinner made me lose my head altogether. I sat beside her, and my hand +continually met hers under the tablecloth, my foot touched hers and our +glances met. + +“After dinner we took a walk by moonlight, and I whispered all the tender +things I could think of to her. I held her close to me, kissed her every +moment, while her uncle and Rivet were arguing as they walked in front of +us. They went in, and soon a messenger brought a telegram from her aunt, +saying that she would not return until the next morning at seven o'clock +by the first train. + +“'Very well, Henriette,' her uncle said, 'go and show the gentlemen their +rooms.' She showed Rivet his first, and he whispered to me: 'There was no +danger of her taking us into yours first.' Then she took me to my room, +and as soon as she was alone with me I took her in my arms again and +tried to arouse her emotion, but when she saw the danger she escaped out +of the room, and I retired very much put out and excited and feeling +rather foolish, for I knew that I should not sleep much, and I was +wondering how I could have committed such a mistake, when there was a +gentle knock at my door, and on my asking who was there a low voice +replied: 'I.' + +“I dressed myself quickly and opened the door, and she came in. 'I forgot +to ask you what you take in the morning,' she said; 'chocolate, tea or +coffee?' I put my arms round her impetuously and said, devouring her with +kisses: 'I will take--I will take--' + +“But she freed herself from my arms, blew out my candle and disappeared +and left me alone in the dark, furious, trying to find some matches, and +not able to do so. At last I got some and I went into the passage, +feeling half mad, with my candlestick in my hand. + +“What was I about to do? I did not stop to reason, I only wanted to find +her, and I would. I went a few steps without reflecting, but then I +suddenly thought: 'Suppose I should walk into the uncle's room what +should I say?' And I stood still, with my head a void and my heart +beating. But in a few moments I thought of an answer: 'Of course, I shall +say that I was looking for Rivet's room to speak to him about an +important matter,' and I began to inspect all the doors, trying to find +hers, and at last I took hold of a handle at a venture, turned it and +went in. There was Henriette, sitting on her bed and looking at me in +tears. So I gently turned the key, and going up to her on tiptoe I said: +'I forgot to ask you for something to read, mademoiselle.' + +“I was stealthily returning to my room when a rough hand seized me and a +voice--it was Rivet's--whispered in my ear: 'So you have not +yet quite settled that affair of Morin's?' + +“At seven o'clock the next morning Henriette herself brought me a cup of +chocolate. I never have drunk anything like it, soft, velvety, perfumed, +delicious. I could hardly take away my lips from the cup, and she had +hardly left the room when Rivet came in. He seemed nervous and irritable, +like a man who had not slept, and he said to me crossly: + +“'If you go on like this you will end by spoiling the affair of that pig +of a Morin!' + +“At eight o'clock the aunt arrived. Our discussion was very short, for +they withdrew their complaint, and I left five hundred francs for the +poor of the town. They wanted to keep us for the day, and they arranged +an excursion to go and see some ruins. Henriette made signs to me to +stay, behind her parents' back, and I accepted, but Rivet was determined +to go, and though I took him aside and begged and prayed him to do this +for me, he appeared quite exasperated and kept saying to me: 'I have had +enough of that pig of a Morin's affair, do you hear?' + +“Of course I was obliged to leave also, and it was one of the hardest +moments of my life. I could have gone on arranging that business as long +as I lived, and when we were in the railway carriage, after shaking hands +with her in silence, I said to Rivet: 'You are a mere brute!' And he +replied: 'My dear fellow, you were beginning to annoy me confoundedly.' + +“On getting to the Fanal office, I saw a crowd waiting for us, and as +soon as they saw us they all exclaimed: 'Well, have you settled the +affair of that pig of a Morin?' All La Rochelle was excited about it, and +Rivet, who had got over his ill-humor on the journey, had great +difficulty in keeping himself from laughing as he said: 'Yes, we have +managed it, thanks to Labarbe: And we went to Morin's. + +“He was sitting in an easy-chair with mustard plasters on his legs and +cold bandages on his head, nearly dead with misery. He was coughing with +the short cough of a dying man, without any one knowing how he had caught +it, and his wife looked at him like a tigress ready to eat him, and as +soon as he saw us he trembled so violently as to make his hands and knees +shake, so I said to him immediately: 'It is all settled, you dirty scamp, +but don't do such a thing again.' + +“He got up, choking, took my hands and kissed them as if they had +belonged to a prince, cried, nearly fainted, embraced Rivet and even +kissed Madame Morin, who gave him such a push as to send him staggering +back into his chair; but he never got over the blow; his mind had been +too much upset. In all the country round, moreover, he was called nothing +but 'that pig of a Morin,' and that epithet went through him like a +sword-thrust every time he heard it. When a street boy called after him +'Pig!' he turned his head instinctively. His friends also overwhelmed him +with horrible jokes and used to ask him, whenever they were eating ham, +'Is it a bit of yourself?' He died two years later. + +“As for myself, when I was a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies in +1875, I called on the new notary at Fousserre, Monsieur Belloncle, to +solicit his vote, and a tall, handsome and evidently wealthy lady +received me. 'You do not know me again?' she said. And I stammered out: +'Why--no--madame.' 'Henriette Bonnel.' 'Ah!' And I felt myself +turning pale, while she seemed perfectly at her ease and looked at me +with a smile. + +“As soon as she had left me alone with her husband he took both my hands, +and, squeezing them as if he meant to crush them, he said: 'I have been +intending to go and see you for a long time, my dear sir, for my wife has +very often talked to me about you. I know--yes, I know under what +painful circumstances you made her acquaintance, and I know also how +perfectly you behaved, how full of delicacy, tact and devotion you showed +yourself in the affair--' He hesitated and then said in a lower +tone, as if he had been saying something low and coarse, 'in the affair +of that pig of a Morin.'” + + + + +SAINT ANTHONY + +They called him Saint Anthony, because his name was Anthony, and also, +perhaps, because he was a good fellow, jovial, a lover of practical +jokes, a tremendous eater and a heavy drinker and a gay fellow, although +he was sixty years old. + +He was a big peasant of the district of Caux, with a red face, large +chest and stomach, and perched on two legs that seemed too slight for the +bulk of his body. + +He was a widower and lived alone with his two men servants and a maid on +his farm, which he conducted with shrewd economy. He was careful of his +own interests, understood business and the raising of cattle, and +farming. His two sons and his three daughters, who had married well, were +living in the neighborhood and came to dine with their father once a +month. His vigor of body was famous in all the countryside. “He is as +strong as Saint Anthony,” had become a kind of proverb. + +At the time of the Prussian invasion Saint Anthony, at the wine shop, +promised to eat an army, for he was a braggart, like a true Norman, a bit +of a coward and a blusterer. He banged his fist on the wooden table, +making the cups and the brandy glasses dance, and cried with the assumed +wrath of a good fellow, with a flushed face and a sly look in his eye: “I +shall have to eat some of them, nom de Dieu!” He reckoned that the +Prussians would not come as far as Tanneville, but when he heard they +were at Rautot he never went out of the house, and constantly watched the +road from the little window of his kitchen, expecting at any moment to +see the bayonets go by. + +One morning as he was eating his luncheon with the servants the door +opened and the mayor of the commune, Maitre Chicot, appeared, followed by +a soldier wearing a black copper-pointed helmet. Saint Anthony bounded to +his feet and his servants all looked at him, expecting to see him slash +the Prussian. But he merely shook hands with the mayor, who said: + +“Here is one for you, Saint Anthony. They came last night. Don't do +anything foolish, above all things, for they talked of shooting and +burning everything if there is the slightest unpleasantness, I have given +you warning. Give him something to eat; he looks like a good fellow. +Good-day. I am going to call on the rest. There are enough for all.” And +he went out. + +Father Anthony, who had turned pale, looked at the Prussian. He was a +big, young fellow with plump, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair, unshaven +to his cheek bones, who looked stupid, timid and good. The shrewd Norman +read him at once, and, reassured, he made him a sign to sit down. Then he +said: “Will you take some soup?” + +The stranger did not understand. Anthony then became bolder, and pushing +a plateful of soup right under his nose, he said: “Here, swallow that, +big pig!” + +The soldier answered “Ya,” and began to eat greedily, while the farmer, +triumphant, feeling he had regained his reputation, winked his eye at the +servants, who were making strange grimaces, what with their terror and +their desire to laugh. + +When the Prussian had devoured his soup, Saint Anthony gave him another +plateful, which disappeared in like manner; but he flinched at the third +which the farmer tried to insist on his eating, saying: “Come, put that +into your stomach; 'twill fatten you or it is your own fault, eh, pig!” + +The soldier, understanding only that they wanted to make him eat all his +soup, laughed in a contented manner, making a sign to show that he could +not hold any more. + +Then Saint Anthony, become quite familiar, tapped him on the stomach, +saying: “My, there is plenty in my pig's belly!” But suddenly he began to +writhe with laughter, unable to speak. An idea had struck him which made +him choke with mirth. “That's it, that's it, Saint Anthony and his pig. +There's my pig!” And the three servants burst out laughing in their turn. + +The old fellow was so pleased that he had the brandy brought in, good +stuff, 'fil en dix', and treated every one. They clinked glasses with the +Prussian, who clacked his tongue by way of flattery to show that he +enjoyed it. And Saint Anthony exclaimed in his face: “Eh, is not that +superfine? You don't get anything like that in your home, pig!” + +From that time Father Anthony never went out without his Prussian. He had +got what he wanted. This was his vengeance, the vengeance of an old +rogue. And the whole countryside, which was in terror, laughed to split +its sides at Saint Anthony's joke. Truly, there was no one like him when +it came to humor. No one but he would have thought of a thing like that. +He was a born joker! + +He went to see his neighbors every day, arm in arm with his German, whom +he introduced in a jovial manner, tapping him on the shoulder: “See, here +is my pig; look and see if he is not growing fat, the animal!” + +And the peasants would beam with smiles. “He is so comical, that reckless +fellow, Antoine!” + +“I will sell him to you, Cesaire, for three pistoles” (thirty francs). + +“I will take him, Antoine, and I invite you to eat some black pudding.” + +“What I want is his feet.” + +“Feel his belly; you will see that it is all fat.” + +And they all winked at each other, but dared not laugh too loud, for fear +the Prussian might finally suspect they were laughing at him. Anthony, +alone growing bolder every day, pinched his thighs, exclaiming, “Nothing +but fat”; tapped him on the back, shouting, “That is all bacon”; lifted +him up in his arms as an old Colossus that could have lifted an anvil, +declaring, “He weighs six hundred and no waste.” + +He had got into the habit of making people offer his “pig” something to +eat wherever they went together. This was the chief pleasure, the great +diversion every day. “Give him whatever you please, he will swallow +everything.” And they offered the man bread and butter, potatoes, cold +meat, chitterlings, which caused the remark, “Some of your own, and +choice ones.” + +The soldier, stupid and gentle, ate from politeness, charmed at these +attentions, making himself ill rather than refuse, and he was actually +growing fat and his uniform becoming tight for him. This delighted Saint +Anthony, who said: “You know, my pig, that we shall have to have another +cage made for you.” + +They had, however, become the best friends in the world, and when the old +fellow went to attend to his business in the neighborhood the Prussian +accompanied him for the simple pleasure of being with him. + +The weather was severe; it was freezing hard. The terrible winter of 1870 +seemed to bring all the scourges on France at one time. + +Father Antoine, who made provision beforehand, and took advantage of +every opportunity, foreseeing that manure would be scarce for the spring +farming, bought from a neighbor who happened to be in need of money all +that he had, and it was agreed that he should go every evening with his +cart to get a load. + +So every day at twilight he set out for the farm of Haules, half a league +distant, always accompanied by his “pig.” And each time it was a +festival, feeding the animal. All the neighbors ran over there as they +would go to high mass on Sunday. + +But the soldier began to suspect something, be mistrustful, and when they +laughed too loud he would roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they +lighted up with anger. + +One evening when he had eaten his fill he refused to swallow another +morsel, and attempted to rise to leave the table. But Saint Anthony +stopped him by a turn of the wrist and, placing his two powerful hands on +his shoulders, he sat him down again so roughly that the chair smashed +under him. + +A wild burst of laughter broke forth, and Anthony, beaming, picked up his +pig, acted as though he were dressing his wounds, and exclaimed: “Since +you will not eat, you shall drink, nom de Dieu!” And they went to the +wine shop to get some brandy. + +The soldier rolled his eyes, which had a wicked expression, but he drank, +nevertheless; he drank as long as they wanted him, and Saint Anthony held +his head to the great delight of his companions. + +The Norman, red as a tomato, his eyes ablaze, filled up the glasses and +clinked, saying: “Here's to you!”. And the Prussian, without speaking a +word, poured down one after another glassfuls of cognac. + +It was a contest, a battle, a revenge! Who would drink the most, nom d'un +nom! They could neither of them stand any more when the liter was +emptied. But neither was conquered. They were tied, that was all. They +would have to begin again the next day. + +They went out staggering and started for home, walking beside the dung +cart which was drawn along slowly by two horses. + +Snow began to fall and the moonless night was sadly lighted by this dead +whiteness on the plain. The men began to feel the cold, and this +aggravated their intoxication. Saint Anthony, annoyed at not being the +victor, amused himself by shoving his companion so as to make him fall +over into the ditch. The other would dodge backwards, and each time he +did he uttered some German expression in an angry tone, which made the +peasant roar with laughter. Finally the Prussian lost his temper, and +just as Anthony was rolling towards him he responded with such a terrific +blow with his fist that the Colossus staggered. + +Then, excited by the brandy, the old man seized the pugilist round the +waist, shook him for a few moments as he would have done with a little +child, and pitched him at random to the other side of the road. Then, +satisfied with this piece of work, he crossed his arms and began to laugh +afresh. + +But the soldier picked himself up in a hurry, his head bare, his helmet +having rolled off, and drawing his sword he rushed over to Father +Anthony. + +When he saw him coming the peasant seized his whip by the top of the +handle, his big holly wood whip, straight, strong and supple as the sinew +of an ox. + +The Prussian approached, his head down, making a lunge with his sword, +sure of killing his adversary. But the old fellow, squarely hitting the +blade, the point of which would have pierced his stomach, turned it +aside, and with the butt end of the whip struck the soldier a sharp blow +on the temple and he fell to the ground. + +Then he, gazed aghast, stupefied with amazement, at the body, twitching +convulsively at first and then lying prone and motionless. He bent over +it, turned it on its back, and gazed at it for some time. The man's eyes +were closed, and blood trickled from a wound at the side of his forehead. +Although it was dark, Father Anthony could distinguish the bloodstain on +the white snow. + +He remained there, at his wit's end, while his cart continued slowly on +its way. + +What was he to do? He would be shot! They would burn his farm, ruin his +district! What should he do? What should he do? How could he hide the +body, conceal the fact of his death, deceive the Prussians? He heard +voices in the distance, amid the utter stillness of the snow. All at once +he roused himself, and picking up the helmet he placed it on his victim's +head. Then, seizing him round the body, he lifted him up in his arms, and +thus running with him, he overtook his team, and threw the body on top of +the manure. Once in his own house he would think up some plan. + +He walked slowly, racking his brain, but without result. He saw, he felt, +that he was lost. He entered his courtyard. A light was shining in one of +the attic windows; his maid was not asleep. He hastily backed his wagon +to the edge of the manure hollow. He thought that by overturning the +manure the body lying on top of it would fall into the ditch and be +buried beneath it, and he dumped the cart. + +As he had foreseen, the man was buried beneath the manure. Anthony evened +it down with his fork, which he stuck in the ground beside it. He called +his stableman, told him to put up the horses, and went to his room. + +He went to bed, still thinking of what he had best do, but no ideas came +to him. His apprehension increased in the quiet of his room. They would +shoot him! He was bathed in perspiration from fear, his teeth chattered, +he rose shivering, not being able to stay in bed. + +He went downstairs to the kitchen, took the bottle of brandy from the +sideboard and carried it upstairs. He drank two large glasses, one after +another, adding a fresh intoxication to the late one, without quieting +his mental anguish. He had done a pretty stroke of work, nom de Dieu, +idiot! + +He paced up and down, trying to think of some stratagem, some +explanations, some cunning trick, and from time to time he rinsed his +mouth with a swallow of “fil en dix” to give him courage. + +But no ideas came to him, not one. + +Towards midnight his watch dog, a kind of cross wolf called “Devorant,” + began to howl frantically. Father Anthony shuddered to the marrow of his +bones, and each time the beast began his long and lugubrious wail the old +man's skin turned to goose flesh. + +He had sunk into a chair, his legs weak, stupefied, done up, waiting +anxiously for “Devorant” to set up another howl, and starting +convulsively from nervousness caused by terror. + +The clock downstairs struck five. The dog was still howling. The peasant +was almost insane. He rose to go and let the dog loose, so that he should +not hear him. He went downstairs, opened the hall door, and stepped out +into the darkness. The snow was still falling. The earth was all white, +the farm buildings standing out like black patches. He approached the +kennel. The dog was dragging at his chain. He unfastened it. “Devorant” + gave a bound, then stopped short, his hair bristling, his legs rigid, his +muzzle in the air, his nose pointed towards the manure heap. + +Saint Anthony, trembling from head to foot, faltered: + +“What's the matter with you, you dirty hound?” and he walked a few steps +forward, gazing at the indistinct outlines, the sombre shadow of the +courtyard. + +Then he saw a form, the form of a man sitting on the manure heap! + +He gazed at it, paralyzed by fear, and breathing hard. But all at once he +saw, close by, the handle of the manure fork which was sticking in the +ground. He snatched it up and in one of those transports of fear that +will make the greatest coward brave he rushed forward to see what it was. + +It was he, his Prussian, come to life, covered with filth from his bed of +manure which had kept him warm. He had sat down mechanically, and +remained there in the snow which sprinkled down, all covered with dirt +and blood as he was, and still stupid from drinking, dazed by the blow +and exhausted from his wound. + +He perceived Anthony, and too sodden to understand anything, he made an +attempt to rise. But the moment the old man recognized him, he foamed +with rage like a wild animal. + +“Ah, pig! pig!” he sputtered. “You are not dead! You are going to +denounce me now--wait--wait!” + +And rushing on the German with all the strength of leis arms he flung the +raised fork like a lance and buried the four prongs full length in his +breast. + +The soldier fell over on his back, uttering a long death moan, while the +old peasant, drawing the fork out of his breast, plunged it over and over +again into his abdomen, his stomach, his throat, like a madman, piercing +the body from head to foot, as it still quivered, and the blood gushed +out in streams. + +Finally he stopped, exhausted by his arduous work, swallowing great +mouthfuls of air, calmed down at the completion of the murder. + +As the cocks were beginning to crow in the poultry yard and it was near +daybreak, he set to work to bury the man. + +He dug a hole in the manure till he reached the earth, dug down further, +working wildly, in a frenzy of strength with frantic motions of his arms +and body. + +When the pit was deep enough he rolled the corpse into it with the fork, +covered it with earth, which he stamped down for some time, and then put +back the manure, and he smiled as he saw the thick snow finishing his +work and covering up its traces with a white sheet. + +He then stuck the fork in the manure and went into the house. His bottle, +still half full of brandy stood on the table. He emptied it at a draught, +threw himself on his bed and slept heavily. + +He woke up sober, his mind calm and clear, capable of judgment and +thought. + +At the end of an hour he was going about the country making inquiries +everywhere for his soldier. He went to see the Prussian officer to find +out why they had taken away his man. + +As everyone knew what good friends they were, no one suspected him. He +even directed the research, declaring that the Prussian went to see the +girls every evening. + +An old retired gendarme who had an inn in the next village, and a pretty +daughter, was arrested and shot. + + + + +LASTING LOVE + +It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis +de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered +with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately +there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to +whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of +persons who had loved once; these were offset by those who had loved +violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may +attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This +conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based +their opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained +that love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles +lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes +forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other strong +sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had +indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. + +“I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and +soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, +to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had +not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a +second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, +and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once +indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament.” + +They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had +said, a thing of temperament. + +“As for me,” he said, “I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five +years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death.” The +wife of the marquis clasped her hands. + +“That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What +bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering +affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so +adored!” + +The doctor smiled. + +“You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You +even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you +also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau.” + The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with +“Pouah!” for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor +continued: “Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old +chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the +executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she +told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her +father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a +house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, +hungry. They visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just +outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her +parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom +spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!' + +“When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by +the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of +affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken +chairs. Then it was she made friends with the children in the street, but +their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking to +the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind +woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. + +“One day--she was then eleven years old--as she was walking through +a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping +bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards +(mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied +mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She +approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she +put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and +dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his +money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw +her arms round him and gave him a hug--then she ran away. + +“What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had +sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, +or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is +alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed +of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou +here and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was +sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two +francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father's drug +store, she caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between +a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite +carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished +the recollection of it forever in her heart. The following year she met +him near the school playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her +arms round him, and kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. +To quiet him, she gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty +centimes! A real gold mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. + +“After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the +next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed +conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, +at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with +grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The +next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her +laugh with joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he +watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This +made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to +boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. Then she +used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their route and +pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of scheming she +succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely recognized +him, he was so changed, had grown taller, better looking and was imposing +in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and +passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from that time +loved and suffered unceasingly. + +“Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. +He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, +hopelessly. She said to me: + +“'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another +exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work. + +“One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she +saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his +arm. She was his wife. That night the chair-mender threw herself into the +river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the +drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. +Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed her; then +he said to her, in a harsh voice: + +“'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice +brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long +time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted. + +“All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She +began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to +him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to give him +money. + +“As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic +story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had +worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after +her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The +next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, +sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied. +They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I +began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, +even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by +'that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!' he swore with +indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of +decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to +him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! +That beggar!' + +“Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and +began striding about. He muttered: 'Can you understand anything so +horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I +should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have +escaped.' + +“I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to +finish my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her +savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I +have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would +prefer to give this money to the poor.' + +“They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. I +took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking +money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. +Then I asked: + +“'What is your decision?' + +“Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, +it seems to me impossible to refuse it.' + +“Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for +our children with it.' + +“I answered dryly: 'As you wish.' + +“He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to +do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.' + +“I gave them the money, bowed and left. + +“The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely: + +“'That woman left her wagon here--what have you done with it?' + +“'Nothing; take it if you wish.' + +“'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back +and said: + +“'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?' + +“He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with +them?' + +“'Dispose of them as you like.' + +“He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The +doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. I +have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to +Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the +only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life.” + +The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed +and said: + +“There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love.” + + + + +PIERROT + +Mme. Lefevre was a country dame, a widow, one of these half peasants, +with ribbons and bonnets with trimming on them, one of those persons who +clipped her words and put on great airs in public, concealing the soul of +a pretentious animal beneath a comical and bedizened exterior, just as +the country-folks hide their coarse red hands in ecru silk gloves. + +She had a servant, a good simple peasant, called Rose. + +The two women lived in a little house with green shutters by the side of +the high road in Normandy, in the centre of the country of Caux. As they +had a narrow strip of garden in front of the house, they grew some +vegetables. + +One night someone stole twelve onions. As soon as Rose became aware of +the theft, she ran to tell madame, who came downstairs in her woolen +petticoat. It was a shame and a disgrace! They had robbed her, Mme. +Lefevre! As there were thieves in the country, they might come back. + +And the two frightened women examined the foot tracks, talking, and +supposing all sorts of things. + +“See, they went that way! They stepped on the wall, they jumped into the +garden!” + +And they became apprehensive for the future. How could they sleep in +peace now! + +The news of the theft spread. The neighbor came, making examinations and +discussing the matter in their turn, while the two women explained to +each newcomer what they had observed and their opinion. + +A farmer who lived near said to them: + +“You ought to have a dog.” + +That is true, they ought to have a dog, if it were only to give the +alarm. Not a big dog. Heavens! what would they do with a big dog? He +would eat their heads off. But a little dog (in Normandy they say +“quin”), a little puppy who would bark. + +As soon as everyone had left, Mme. Lefevre discussed this idea of a dog +for some time. On reflection she made a thousand objections, terrified at +the idea of a bowl full of soup, for she belonged to that race of +parsimonious country women who always carry centimes in their pocket to +give alms in public to beggars on the road and to put in the Sunday +collection plate. + +Rose, who loved animals, gave her opinion and defended it shrewdly. So it +was decided that they should have a dog, a very small dog. + +They began to look for one, but could find nothing but big dogs, who +would devour enough soup to make one shudder. The grocer of Rolleville +had one, a tiny one, but he demanded two francs to cover the cost of +sending it. Mme. Lefevre declared that she would feed a “quin,” but would +not buy one. + +The baker, who knew all that occurred, brought in his wagon one morning a +strange little yellow animal, almost without paws, with the body of a +crocodile, the head of a fox, and a curly tail--a true cockade, as +big as all the rest of him. Mme. Lefevre thought this common cur that +cost nothing was very handsome. Rose hugged it and asked what its name +was. + +“Pierrot,” replied the baker. + +The dog was installed in an old soap box and they gave it some water +which it drank. They then offered it a piece of bread. He ate it. Mme. +Lefevre, uneasy, had an idea. + +“When he is thoroughly accustomed to the house we can let him run. He can +find something to eat, roaming about the country.” + +They let him run, in fact, which did not prevent him from being famished. +Also he never barked except to beg for food, and then he barked +furiously. + +Anyone might come into the garden, and Pierrot would run up and fawn on +each one in turn and not utter a bark. + +Mme. Lefevre, however, had become accustomed to the animal. She even went +so far as to like it and to give it from time to time pieces of bread +soaked in the gravy on her plate. + +But she had not once thought of the dog tax, and when they came to +collect eight francs--eight francs, madame--for this puppy who +never even barked, she almost fainted from the shock. + +It was immediately decided that they must get rid of Pierrot. No one +wanted him. Every one declined to take him for ten leagues around. Then +they resolved, not knowing what else to do, to make him “piquer du mas.” + +“Piquer du mas” means to eat chalk. When one wants to get rid of a dog +they make him “Piquer du mas.” + +In the midst of an immense plain one sees a kind of hut, or rather a very +small roof standing above the ground. This is the entrance to the clay +pit. A big perpendicular hole is sunk for twenty metres underground and +ends in a series of long subterranean tunnels. + +Once a year they go down into the quarry at the time they fertilize the +ground. The rest of the year it serves as a cemetery for condemned dogs, +and as one passed by this hole plaintive howls, furious or despairing +barks and lamentable appeals reach one's ear. + +Sportsmen's dogs and sheep dogs flee in terror from this mournful place, +and when one leans over it one perceives a disgusting odor of +putrefaction. + +Frightful dramas are enacted in the darkness. + +When an animal has suffered down there for ten or twelve days, nourished +on the foul remains of his predecessors, another animal, larger and more +vigorous, is thrown into the hole. There they are, alone, starving, with +glittering eyes. They watch each other, follow each other, hesitate in +doubt. But hunger impels them; they attack each other, fight desperately +for some time, and the stronger eats the weaker, devours him alive. + +When it was decided to make Pierrot “piquer du mas” they looked round for +an executioner. The laborer who mended the road demanded six sous to take +the dog there. That seemed wildly exorbitant to Mme. Lefevre. The +neighbor's hired boy wanted five sous; that was still too much. So Rose +having observed that they had better carry it there themselves, as in +that way it would not be brutally treated on the way and made to suspect +its fate, they resolved to go together at twilight. + +They offered the dog that evening a good dish of soup with a piece of +butter in it. He swallowed every morsel of it, and as he wagged his tail +with delight Rose put him in her apron. + +They walked quickly, like thieves, across the plain. They soon perceived +the chalk pit and walked up to it. Mme. Lefevre leaned over to hear if +any animal was moaning. No, there were none there; Pierrot would be +alone. Then Rose, who was crying, kissed the dog and threw him into the +chalk pit, and they both leaned over, listening. + +First they heard a dull sound, then the sharp, bitter, distracting cry of +an animal in pain, then a succession of little mournful cries, then +despairing appeals, the cries of a dog who is entreating, his head raised +toward the opening of the pit. + +He yelped, oh, how he yelped! + +They were filled with remorse, with terror, with a wild inexplicable +fear, and ran away from the spot. As Rose went faster Mme. Lefevre cried: +“Wait for me, Rose, wait for me!” + +At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares. + +Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but +when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it. He jumped out and bit +her nose. + +She awoke and thought she heard him yelping still. She listened, but she +was mistaken. + +She fell asleep again and found herself on a high road, an endless road, +which she followed. Suddenly in the middle of the road she perceived a +basket, a large farmer's basket, lying there, and this basket frightened +her. + +She ended by opening it, and Pierrot, concealed in it, seized her hand +and would not let go. She ran away in terror with the dog hanging to the +end of her arm, which he held between his teeth. + +At daybreak she arose, almost beside herself, and ran to the chalk pit. + +He was yelping, yelping still; he had yelped all night. She began to sob +and called him by all sorts of endearing names. He answered her with all +the tender inflections of his dog's voice. + +Then she wanted to see him again, promising herself that she would give +him a good home till he died. + +She ran to the chalk digger, whose business it was to excavate for chalk, +and told him the situation. The man listened, but said nothing. When she +had finished he said: + +“You want your dog? That will cost four francs.” She gave a jump. All her +grief was at an end at once. + +“Four francs!” she said. “You would die of it! Four francs!” + +“Do you suppose I am going to bring my ropes, my windlass, and set it up, +and go down there with my boy and let myself be bitten, perhaps, by your +cursed dog for the pleasure of giving it back to you? You should not have +thrown it down there.” + +She walked away, indignant. Four francs! + +As soon as she entered the house she called Rose and told her of the +quarryman's charges. Rose, always resigned, repeated: + +“Four francs! That is a good deal of money, madame.” Then she added: “If +we could throw him something to eat, the poor dog, so he will not die of +hunger.” + +Mme. Lefevre approved of this and was quite delighted. So they set out +again with a big piece of bread and butter. + +They cut it in mouthfuls, which they threw down one after the other, +speaking by turns to Pierrot. As soon as the dog finished one piece he +yelped for the next. + +They returned that evening and the next day and every day. But they made +only one trip. + +One morning as they were just letting fall the first mouthful they +suddenly heard a tremendous barking in the pit. There were two dogs +there. Another had been thrown in, a large dog. + +“Pierrot!” cried Rose. And Pierrot yelped and yelped. Then they began to +throw down some food. But each time they noticed distinctly a terrible +struggle going on, then plaintive cries from Pierrot, who had been bitten +by his companion, who ate up everything as he was the stronger. + +It was in vain that they specified, saying: + +“That is for you, Pierrot.” Pierrot evidently got nothing. + +The two women, dumfounded, looked at each other and Mme. Lefevre said in +a sour tone: + +“I could not feed all the dogs they throw in there! We must give it up.” + +And, suffocating at the thought of all the dogs living at her expense, +she went away, even carrying back what remained of the bread, which she +ate as she walked along. + +Rose followed her, wiping her eyes on the corner of her blue apron. + + + + +A NORMANDY JOKE + +It was a wedding procession that was coming along the road between the +tall trees that bounded the farms and cast their shadow on the road. At +the head were the bride and groom, then the family, then the invited +guests, and last of all the poor of the neighborhood. The village urchins +who hovered about the narrow road like flies ran in and out of the ranks +or climbed up the trees to see it better. + +The bridegroom was a good-looking young fellow, Jean Patu, the richest +farmer in the neighborhood, but he was above all things, an ardent +sportsman who seemed to take leave of his senses in order to satisfy that +passion, and who spent large sums on his dogs, his keepers, his ferrets +and his guns. The bride, Rosalie Roussel, had been courted by all the +likely young fellows in the district, for they all thought her handsome +and they knew that she would have a good dowry. But she had chosen Patu; +partly, perhaps, because she liked him better than she did the others, +but still more, like a careful Normandy girl, because he had more crown +pieces. + +As they entered the white gateway of the husband's farm, forty shots +resounded without their seeing those who fired, as they were hidden in +the ditches. The noise seemed to please the men, who were slouching along +heavily in their best clothes, and Patu left his wife, and running up to +a farm servant whom he perceived behind a tree, took his gun and fired a +shot himself, as frisky as a young colt. Then they went on, beneath the +apple trees which were heavy with fruit, through the high grass and +through the midst of the calves, who looked at them with their great +eyes, got up slowly and remained standing, with their muzzles turned +toward the wedding party. + +The men became serious when they came within measurable distance of the +wedding dinner. Some of them, the rich ones, had on tall, shining silk +hats, which seemed altogether out of place there; others had old +head-coverings with a long nap, which might have been taken for moleskin, +while the humblest among them wore caps. All the women had on shawls, +which they wore loosely on their back, holding the tips ceremoniously +under their arms. They were red, parti-colored, flaming shawls, and their +brightness seemed to astonish the black fowls on the dung-heap, the ducks +on the side of the pond and the pigeons on the thatched roofs. + +The extensive farm buildings seemed to be waiting there at the end of +that archway of apple trees, and a sort of vapor came out of open door +and windows and an almost overpowering odor of eatables was exhaled from +the vast building, from all its openings and from its very walls. The +string of guests extended through the yard; but when the foremost of them +reached the house, they broke the chain and dispersed, while those behind +were still coming in at the open gate. The ditches were now lined with +urchins and curious poor people, and the firing did not cease, but came +from every side at once, and a cloud of smoke, and that odor which has +the same intoxicating effect as absinthe, blended with the atmosphere. +The women were shaking their dresses outside the door, to get rid of the +dust, were undoing their cap-strings and pulling their shawls over their +arms, and then they went into the house to lay them aside altogether for +the time. The table was laid in the great kitchen that would hold a +hundred persons; they sat down to dinner at two o'clock; and at eight +o'clock they were still eating, and the men, in their shirt-sleeves, with +their waistcoats unbuttoned and with red faces, were swallowing down the +food and drink as if they had been whirlpools. The cider sparkled +merrily, clear and golden in the large glasses, by the side of the dark, +blood-colored wine, and between every dish they made a “hole,” the +Normandy hole, with a glass of brandy which inflamed the body and put +foolish notions into the head. Low jokes were exchanged across the table +until the whole arsenal of peasant wit was exhausted. For the last +hundred years the same broad stories had served for similar occasions, +and, although every one knew them, they still hit the mark and made both +rows of guests roar with laughter. + +At one end of the table four young fellows, who were neighbors, were +preparing some practical jokes for the newly married couple, and they +seemed to have got hold of a good one by the way they whispered and +laughed, and suddenly one of them, profiting by a moment of silence, +exclaimed: “The poachers will have a good time to-night, with this moon! +I say, Jean, you will not be looking at the moon, will you?” The +bridegroom turned to him quickly and replied: “Only let them come, that's +all!” But the other young fellow began to laugh, and said: “I do not +think you will pay much attention to them!” + +The whole table was convulsed with laughter, so that the glasses shook, +but the bridegroom became furious at the thought that anybody would +profit by his wedding to come and poach on his land, and repeated: “I +only say-just let them come!” + +Then there was a flood of talk with a double meaning which made the bride +blush somewhat, although she was trembling with expectation; and when +they had emptied the kegs of brandy they all went to bed. The young +couple went into their own room, which was on the ground floor, as most +rooms in farmhouses are. As it was very warm, they opened the window and +closed the shutters. A small lamp in bad taste, a present from the +bride's father, was burning on the chest of drawers, and the bed stood +ready to receive the young people. + +The young woman had already taken off her wreath and her dress, and she +was in her petticoat, unlacing her boots, while Jean was finishing his +cigar and looking at her out of the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, with a +brusque movement, like a man who is about to set to work, he took off his +coat. She had already taken off her boots, and was now pulling off her +stockings, and then she said to him: “Go and hide yourself behind the +curtains while I get into bed.” + +He seemed as if he were about to refuse; but at last he did as she asked +him, and in a moment she unfastened her petticoat, which slipped down, +fell at her feet and lay on the ground. She left it there, stepped over +it in her loose chemise and slipped into the bed, whose springs creaked +beneath her weight. He immediately went up to the bed, and, stooping over +his wife, he sought her lips, which she hid beneath the pillow, when a +shot was heard in the distance, in the direction of the forest of Rapees, +as he thought. + +He raised himself anxiously, with his heart beating, and running to the +window, he opened the shutters. The full moon flooded the yard with +yellow light, and the reflection of the apple trees made black shadows at +their feet, while in the distance the fields gleamed, covered with the +ripe corn. But as he was leaning out, listening to every sound in the +still night, two bare arms were put round his neck, and his wife +whispered, trying to pull him back: “Do leave them alone; it has nothing +to do with you. Come to bed.” + +He turned round, put his arms round her, and drew her toward him, but +just as he was laying her on the 'bed, which yielded beneath her weight, +they heard another report, considerably nearer this time, and Jean, +giving way to his tumultuous rage, swore aloud: “Damn it! They will think +I do not go out and see what it is because of you! Wait, wait a few +minutes!” He put on his shoes again, took down his gun, which was always +hanging within reach against the wall, and, as his wife threw herself on +her knees in her terror, imploring him not to go, he hastily freed +himself, ran to the window and jumped into the yard. + +She waited one hour, two hours, until daybreak, but her husband did not +return. Then she lost her head, aroused the house, related how angry Jean +was, and said that he had gone after the poachers, and immediately all +the male farm-servants, even the boys, went in search of their master. +They found him two leagues from the farm, tied hand and foot, half dead +with rage, his gun broken, his trousers turned inside out, and with three +dead hares hanging round his neck, and a placard on his chest with these +words: “Who goes on the chase loses his place.” + +In later years, when he used to tell this story of his wedding night, he +usually added: “Ah! as far as a joke went it was a good joke. They caught +me in a snare, as if I had been a rabbit, the dirty brutes, and they +shoved my head into a bag. But if I can only catch them some day they had +better look out for themselves!” + +That is how they amuse themselves in Normandy on a wedding day. + + + + +FATHER MATTHEW + +We had just left Rouen and were galloping along the road to Jumieges. The +light carriage flew along across the level country. Presently the horse +slackened his pace to walk up the hill of Cantelen. + +One sees there one of the most magnificent views in the world. Behind us +lay Rouen, the city of churches, with its Gothic belfries, sculptured +like ivory trinkets; before us Saint Sever, the manufacturing suburb, +whose thousands of smoking chimneys rise amid the expanse of sky, +opposite the thousand sacred steeples of the old city. + +On the one hand the spire of the cathedral, the highest of human +monuments, on the other the engine of the power-house, its rival, and +almost as high, and a metre higher than the tallest pyramid in Egypt. + +Before us wound the Seine, with its scattered islands and bordered by +white banks, covered with a forest on the right and on the left immense +meadows, bounded by another forest yonder in the distance. + +Here and there large ships lay at anchor along the banks of the wide +river. Three enormous steam boats were starting out, one behind the +other, for Havre, and a chain of boats, a bark, two schooners and a brig, +were going upstream to Rouen, drawn by a little tug that emitted a cloud +of black smoke. + +My companion, a native of the country, did not glance at this wonderful +landscape, but he smiled continually; he seemed to be amused at his +thoughts. Suddenly he cried: + +“Ah, you will soon see something comical--Father Matthew's chapel. +That is a sweet morsel, my boy.” + +I looked at him in surprise. He continued: + +“I will give you a whiff of Normandy that will stay by you. Father +Matthew is the handsomest Norman in the province and his chapel is one of +the wonders of the world, nothing more nor less. But I will first give +you a few words of explanation. + +“Father Matthew, who is also called Father 'La Boisson,' is an old +sergeant-major who has come back to his native land. He combines in +admirable proportions, making a perfect whole, the humbug of the old +soldier and the sly roguery of the Norman. On his return to Normandy, +thanks to influence and incredible cleverness, he was made doorkeeper of +a votive chapel, a chapel dedicated to the Virgin and frequented chiefly +by young women who have gone astray.... He composed and had painted a +special prayer to his 'Good Virgin.' This prayer is a masterpiece of +unintentional irony, of Norman wit, in which jest is blended with fear of +the saint and with the superstitious fear of the secret influence of +something. He has not much faith in his protectress, but he believes in +her a little through prudence, and he is considerate of her through +policy. + +“This is how this wonderful prayer begins: + +“'Our good Madame Virgin Mary, natural protectress of girl mothers in +this land and all over the world, protect your servant who erred in a +moment of forgetfulness...' + +“It ends thus: + +“'Do not forget me, especially when you are with your holy spouse, and +intercede with God the Father that he may grant me a good husband, like +your own.' + +“This prayer, which was suppressed by the clergy of the district, is sold +by him privately, and is said to be very efficacious for those who recite +it with unction. + +“In fact he talks of the good Virgin as the valet de chambre of a +redoubted prince might talk of his master who confided in him all his +little private secrets. He knows a number of amusing anecdotes at his +expense which he tells confidentially among friends as they sit over +their glasses. + +“But you will see for yourself. + +“As the fees coming from the Virgin did not appear sufficient to him, he +added to the main figure a little business in saints. He has them all, or +nearly all. There was not room enough in the chapel, so he stored them in +the wood-shed and brings them forth as soon as the faithful ask for them. +He carved these little wooden statues himself--they are comical in +the extreme--and painted them all bright green one year when they +were painting his house. You know that saints cure diseases, but each +saint has his specialty, and you must not confound them or make any +blunders. They are as jealous of each other as mountebanks. + +“In order that they may make no mistake, the old women come and consult +Matthew. + +“'For diseases of the ear which saint is the best?' + +“'Why, Saint Osyme is good and Saint Pamphilius is not bad.' But that is +not all. + +“As Matthew has some time to spare, he drinks; but he drinks like a +professional, with conviction, so much so that he is intoxicated +regularly every evening. He is drunk, but he is aware of it. He is so +well aware of it that he notices each day his exact degree of +intoxication. That is his chief occupation; the chapel is a secondary +matter. + +“And he has invented--listen and catch on--he has invented the +'Saoulometre.' + +“There is no such instrument, but Matthew's observations are as precise +as those of a mathematician. You may hear him repeating incessantly: +'Since Monday I have had more than forty-five,' or else 'I was between +fifty-two and fifty-eight,' or else 'I had at least sixty-six to +seventy,' or 'Hullo, cheat, I thought I was in the fifties and here I +find I had had seventy-five!' + +“He never makes a mistake. + +“He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that +his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot +depend absolutely on the truth of that statement. + +“When Matthew acknowledges that he has passed ninety, you may rest +assured that he is blind drunk. + +“On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury. +She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at +him: + +“'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot!' + +“Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite +her and says in a severe tone: + +“'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow.' + +“If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky +voice: + +“'Don't bawl any more. I have had about ninety; I am not counting any +more. Look out, I am going to hit you!' + +“Then Melie beats a retreat. + +“If, on the following day, she reverts to the subject, he laughs in her +face and says: + +“'Come, come! We have said enough. It is past. As long as I have not +reached my limit there is no harm done. But if I go, past that I will +allow you to correct me, my word on it!'” + +We had reached the top of the hill. The road entered the delightful +forest of Roumare. + +Autumn, marvellous autumn, blended its gold and purple with the remaining +traces of verdure. We passed through Duclair. Then, instead of going on +to Jumieges, my friend turned to the left and, taking a crosscut, drove +in among the trees. + +And presently from the top of a high hill we saw again the magnificent +valley of the Seine and the winding river beneath us. + +At our right a very small slate-covered building, with a bell tower as +large as a sunshade, adjoined a pretty house with green Venetian blinds, +and all covered with honeysuckle and roses. + +“Here are some friends!” cried a big voice, and Matthew appeared on the +threshold. He was a man about sixty, thin and with a goatee and long, +white mustache. + +My friend shook him by the hand and introduced me, and Matthew took us +into a clean kitchen, which served also as a dining-room. He said: + +“I have no elegant apartment, monsieur. I do not like to get too far away +from the food. The saucepans, you see, keep me company.” Then, turning to +my friend: + +“Why did you come on Thursday? You know quite well that this is the day I +consult my Guardian Saint. I cannot go out this afternoon.” + +And running to the door, he uttered a terrific roar: “Melie!” which must +have startled the sailors in the ships along the stream in the valley +below. + +Melie did not reply. + +Then Matthew winked his eye knowingly. + +“She is not pleased with me, you see, because yesterday I was in the +nineties.” + +My friend began to laugh. “In the nineties, Matthew! How did you manage +it?” + +“I will tell you,” said Matthew. “Last year I found only twenty rasieres +(an old dry measure) of apricots. There are no more, but those are the +only things to make cider of. So I made some, and yesterday I tapped the +barrel. Talk of nectar! That was nectar. You shall tell me what you think +of it. Polyte was here, and we sat down and drank a glass and another +without being satisfied (one could go on drinking it until to-morrow), +and at last, with glass after glass, I felt a chill at my stomach. I said +to Polyte: 'Supposing we drink a glass of cognac to warm ourselves?' He +agreed. But this cognac, it sets you on fire, so that we had to go back +to the cider. But by going from chills to heat and heat to chills, I saw +that I was in the nineties. Polyte was not far from his limit.” + +The door opened and Melie appeared. At once, before bidding us good-day, +she cried: + +“Great hog, you have both of you reached your limit!” + +“Don't say that, Melie; don't say that,” said Matthew, getting angry. “I +have never reached my limit.” + +They gave us a delicious luncheon outside beneath two lime trees, beside +the little chapel and overlooking the vast landscape. And Matthew told +us, with a mixture of humor and unexpected credulity, incredible stories +of miracles. + +We had drunk a good deal of delicious cider, sparkling and sweet, fresh +and intoxicating, which he preferred to all other drinks, and were +smoking our pipes astride our chairs when two women appeared. + +They were old, dried up and bent. After greeting us they asked for Saint +Blanc. Matthew winked at us as he replied: + +“I will get him for you.” And he disappeared in his wood shed. He +remained there fully five minutes. Then he came back with an expression +of consternation. He raised his hands. + +“I don't know where he is. I cannot find him. I am quite sure that I had +him.” Then making a speaking trumpet of his hands, he roared once more: + +“Meli-e-a!” + +“What's the matter?” replied his wife from the end of the garden. + +“Where's Saint Blanc? I cannot find him in the wood shed.” + +Then Melie explained it this way: + +“Was not that the one you took last week to stop up a hole in the rabbit +hutch?” + +Matthew gave a start. + +“By thunder, that may be!” Then turning to the women, he said: + +“Follow me.” + +They followed him. We did the same, almost choking with suppressed +laughter. + +Saint Blanc was indeed stuck into the earth like an ordinary stake, +covered with mud and dirt, and forming a corner for the rabbit hutch. + +As soon as they perceived him, the two women fell on their knees, crossed +themselves and began to murmur an “Oremus.” But Matthew darted toward +them. + +“Wait,” he said, “you are in the mud; I will get you a bundle of straw.” + +He went to fetch the straw and made them a priedieu. Then, looking at his +muddy saint and doubtless afraid of bringing discredit on his business, +he added: + +“I will clean him off a little for you.” + +He took a pail of water and a brush and began to scrub the wooden image +vigorously, while the two old women kept on praying. + +When he had finished he said: + +“Now he is all right.” And he took us back to the house to drink another +glass. + +As he was carrying the glass to his lips he stopped and said in a rather +confused manner: + +“All the same, when I put Saint Blanc out with the rabbits I thought he +would not make any more money. For two years no one had asked for him. +But the saints, you see, they are never out of date.” + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Original Short Stories of Maupassant, +Volume 10, by Guy de Maupassant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAUPASSANT SHORT STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 3086-0.txt or 3086-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/8/3086/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Original Short Stories, Volume 10 (of 13) + +Author: Guy de Maupassant + +Release Date: August 16, 2006 [EBook #3086] +Last Updated: February 23, 2018 +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAUPASSANT SHORT STORIES *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h1> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES<br /> VOLUME 10 (of 13) + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Guy De Maupassant + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + Translated by:<br /><br /> ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A.<br /> A. E. HENDERSON, + B.A.<br /> MME. QUESADA and Others + </h4> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td> + <a + href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/28076/28076-h/28076-h.htm"><b>INDEX + TO ALL VOLUMES</b> </a> + </td> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE CHRISTENING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE FARMER'S WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE DEVIL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE SNIPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE WILL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> AT SEA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> MINUET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THAT PIG OF A MORIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> SAINT ANTHONY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> LASTING LOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> PIERROT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> A NORMANDY JOKE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> FATHER MATTHEW </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE CHRISTENING + </h2> + <p> + “Well doctor, a little brandy?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + The old ship's surgeon, holding out his glass, watched it as it slowly + filled with the golden liquid. Then, holding it in front of his eyes, he + let the light from the lamp stream through it, smelled it, tasted a few + drops and smacked his lips with relish. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! the charming poison! Or rather the seductive murderer, the delightful + destroyer of peoples! + </p> + <p> + “You people do not know it the way I do. You may have read that admirable + book entitled L'Assommoir, but you have not, as I have, seen alcohol + exterminate a whole tribe of savages, a little kingdom of negroes—alcohol + calmly unloaded by the barrel by red-bearded English seamen. + </p> + <p> + “Right near here, in a little village in Brittany near Pont-l'Abbe, I once + witnessed a strange and terrible tragedy caused by alcohol. I was spending + my vacation in a little country house left me by my father. You know this + flat coast where the wind whistles day and night, where one sees, standing + or prone, these giant rocks which in the olden times were regarded as + guardians, and which still retain something majestic and imposing about + them. I always expect to see them come to life and start to walk across + the country with the slow and ponderous tread of giants, or to unfold + enormous granite wings and fly toward the paradise of the Druids. + </p> + <p> + “Everywhere is the sea, always ready on the slightest provocation to rise + in its anger and shake its foamy mane at those bold enough to brave its + wrath. + </p> + <p> + “And the men who travel on this terrible sea, which, with one motion of + its green back, can overturn and swallow up their frail barks—they + go out in the little boats, day and night, hardy, weary and drunk. They + are often drunk. They have a saying which says: 'When the bottle is full + you see the reef, but when it is empty you see it no more.' + </p> + <p> + “Go into one of their huts; you will never find the father there. If you + ask the woman what has become of her husband, she will stretch her arms + out over the dark ocean which rumbles and roars along the coast. He + remained, there one night, when he had had too much to drink; so did her + oldest son. She has four more big, strong, fair-haired boys. Soon it will + be their time. + </p> + <p> + “As I said, I was living in a little house near Pont-l'Abbe. I was there + alone with my servant, an old sailor, and with a native family which took + care of the grounds in my absence. It consisted of three persons, two + sisters and a man, who had married one of them, and who attended to the + garden. + </p> + <p> + “A short time before Christmas my gardener's wife presented him with a + boy. The husband asked me to stand as god-father. I could hardly deny the + request, and so he borrowed ten francs from me for the cost of the + christening, as he said. + </p> + <p> + “The second day of January was chosen as the date of the ceremony. For a + week the earth had been covered by an enormous white carpet of snow, which + made this flat, low country seem vast and limitless. The ocean appeared to + be black in contrast with this white plain; one could see it rolling, + raging and tossing its waves as though wishing to annihilate its pale + neighbor, which appeared to be dead, it was so calm, quiet and cold. + </p> + <p> + “At nine o'clock the father, Kerandec, came to my door with his + sister-in-law, the big Kermagan, and the nurse, who carried the infant + wrapped up in a blanket. We started for the church. The weather was so + cold that it seemed to dry up the skin and crack it open. I was thinking + of the poor little creature who was being carried on ahead of us, and I + said to myself that this Breton race must surely be of iron, if their + children were able, as soon as they were born, to stand such an outing. + </p> + <p> + “We came to the church, but the door was closed; the priest was late. + </p> + <p> + “Then the nurse sat down on one of the steps and began to undress the + child. At first I thought there must have been some slight accident, but I + saw that they were leaving the poor little fellow naked completely naked, + in the icy air. Furious at such imprudence, I protested: + </p> + <p> + “'Why, you are crazy! You will kill the child!' + </p> + <p> + “The woman answered quietly: 'Oh, no, sir; he must wait naked before the + Lord.' + </p> + <p> + “The father and the aunt looked on undisturbed. It was the custom. If it + were not adhered to misfortune was sure to attend the little one. + </p> + <p> + “I scolded, threatened and pleaded. I used force to try to cover the frail + creature. All was in vain. The nurse ran away from me through the snow, + and the body of the little one turned purple. I was about to leave these + brutes when I saw the priest coming across the country, followed. by the + sexton and a young boy. I ran towards him and gave vent to my indignation. + He showed no surprise nor did he quicken his pace in the least. He + answered: + </p> + <p> + “'What can you expect, sir? It's the custom. They all do it, and it's of + no use trying to stop them.' + </p> + <p> + “'But at least hurry up!' I cried. + </p> + <p> + “He answered: 'But I can't go any faster.' + </p> + <p> + “He entered the vestry, while we remained outside on the church steps. I + was suffering. But what about the poor little creature who was howling + from the effects of the biting cold. + </p> + <p> + “At last the door opened. He went into the church. But the poor child had + to remain naked throughout the ceremony. It was interminable. The priest + stammered over the Latin words and mispronounced them horribly. He walked + slowly and with a ponderous tread. His white surplice chilled my heart. It + seemed as though, in the name of a pitiless and barbarous god, he had + wrapped himself in another kind of snow in order to torture this little + piece of humanity that suffered so from the cold. + </p> + <p> + “Finally the christening was finished according to the rites and I saw the + nurse once more take the frozen, moaning child and wrap it up in the + blanket. + </p> + <p> + “The priest said to me: 'Do you wish to sign the register?' + </p> + <p> + “Turning to my gardener, I said: 'Hurry up and get home quickly so that + you can warm that child.' I gave him some advice so as to ward off, if not + too late, a bad attack of pneumonia. He promised to follow my instructions + and left with his sister-in-law and the nurse. I followed the priest into + the vestry, and when I had signed he demanded five francs for expenses. + </p> + <p> + “As I had already given the father ten francs, I refused to pay twice. The + priest threatened to destroy the paper and to annul the ceremony. I, in + turn, threatened him with the district attorney. The dispute was long, and + I finally paid five francs. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I reached home I went down to Kerandec's to find out whether + everything was all right. Neither father, nor sister-in-law, nor nurse had + yet returned. The mother, who had remained alone, was in bed, shivering + with cold and starving, for she had had nothing to eat since the day + before. + </p> + <p> + “'Where the deuce can they have gone?' I asked. She answered without + surprise or anger, 'They're going to drink something to celebrate: It was + the custom. Then I thought, of my ten francs which were to pay the church + and would doubtless pay for the alcohol. + </p> + <p> + “I sent some broth to the mother and ordered a good fire to be built in + the room. I was uneasy and furious and promised myself to drive out these + brutes, wondering with terror what was going to happen to the poor infant. + </p> + <p> + “It was already six, and they had not yet returned. I told my servant to + wait for them and I went to bed. I soon fell asleep and slept like a top. + At daybreak I was awakened by my servant, who was bringing me my hot + water. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as my eyes were open I asked: 'How about Kerandec?' + </p> + <p> + “The man hesitated and then stammered: 'Oh! he came back, all right, after + midnight, and so drunk that he couldn't walk, and so were Kermagan and the + nurse. I guess they must have slept in a ditch, for the little one died + and they never even noticed it.' + </p> + <p> + “I jumped up out of bed, crying: + </p> + <p> + “'What! The child is dead?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir. They brought it back to Mother Kerandec. When she saw it she + began to cry, and now they are making her drink to console her.' + </p> + <p> + “'What's that? They are making her drink!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir. I only found it out this morning. As Kerandec had no more + brandy or money, he took some wood alcohol, which monsieur gave him for + the lamp, and all four of them are now drinking that. The mother is + feeling pretty sick now.' + </p> + <p> + “I had hastily put on some clothes, and seizing a stick, with the + intention of applying it to the backs of these human beasts, I hastened + towards the gardener's house. + </p> + <p> + “The mother was raving drunk beside the blue body of her dead baby. + Kerandec, the nurse, and the Kermagan woman were snoring on the floor. I + had to take care of the mother, who died towards noon.” + </p> + <p> + The old doctor was silent. He took up the brandy-bottle and poured out + another glass. He held it up to the lamp, and the light streaming through + it imparted to the liquid the amber color of molten topaz. With one gulp + he swallowed the treacherous drink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FARMER'S WIFE + </h2> + <h3> + Said the Baron Rene du Treilles to me: + </h3> + <p> + “Will you come and open the hunting season with me at my farm at + Marinville? I shall be delighted if you will, my dear boy. In the first + place, I am all alone. It is rather a difficult ground to get at, and the + place I live in is so primitive that I can invite only my most intimate + friends.” + </p> + <p> + I accepted his invitation, and on Saturday we set off on the train going + to Normandy. We alighted at a station called Almivare, and Baron Rene, + pointing to a carryall drawn by a timid horse and driven by a big + countryman with white hair, said: + </p> + <p> + “Here is our equipage, my dear boy.” + </p> + <p> + The driver extended his hand to his landlord, and the baron pressed it + warmly, asking: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Maitre Lebrument, how are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Always the same, M'sieu le Baron.” + </p> + <p> + We jumped into this swinging hencoop perched on two enormous wheels, and + the young horse, after a violent swerve, started into a gallop, pitching + us into the air like balls. Every fall backward on the wooden bench gave + me the most dreadful pain. + </p> + <p> + The peasant kept repeating in his calm, monotonous voice: + </p> + <p> + “There, there! All right all right, Moutard, all right!” + </p> + <p> + But Moutard scarcely heard, and kept capering along like a goat. + </p> + <p> + Our two dogs behind us, in the empty part of the hencoop, were standing up + and sniffing the air of the plains, where they scented game. + </p> + <p> + The baron gazed with a sad eye into the distance at the vast Norman + landscape, undulating and melancholy, like an immense English park, where + the farmyards, surrounded by two or four rows of trees and full of dwarfed + apple trees which hid the houses, gave a vista as far as the eye could see + of forest trees, copses and shrubbery such as landscape gardeners look for + in laying out the boundaries of princely estates. + </p> + <p> + And Rene du Treilles suddenly exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I love this soil; I have my very roots in it.” + </p> + <p> + He was a pure Norman, tall and strong, with a slight paunch, and of the + old race of adventurers who went to found kingdoms on the shores of every + ocean. He was about fifty years of age, ten years less perhaps than the + farmer who was driving us. + </p> + <p> + The latter was a lean peasant, all skin and bone, one of those men who + live a hundred years. + </p> + <p> + After two hours' travelling over stony roads, across that green and + monotonous plain, the vehicle entered one of those orchard farmyards and + drew up before in old structure falling into decay, where an old + maid-servant stood waiting beside a young fellow, who took charge of the + horse. + </p> + <p> + We entered the farmhouse. The smoky kitchen was high and spacious. The + copper utensils and the crockery shone in the reflection of the hearth. A + cat lay asleep on a chair, a dog under the table. One perceived an odor of + milk, apples, smoke, that indescribable smell peculiar to old farmhouses; + the odor of the earth, of the walls, of furniture, the odor of spilled + stale soup, of former wash-days and of former inhabitants, the smell of + animals and of human beings combined, of things and of persons, the odor + of time, and of things that have passed away. + </p> + <p> + I went out to have a look at the farmyard. It was very large, full of + apple trees, dwarfed and crooked, and laden with fruit which fell on the + grass around them. In this farmyard the Norman smell of apples was as + strong as that of the bloom of orange trees on the shores of the south of + France. + </p> + <p> + Four rows of beeches surrounded this inclosure. They were so tall that + they seemed to touch the clouds at this hour of nightfall, and their + summits, through which the night winds passed, swayed and sang a mournful, + interminable song. + </p> + <p> + I reentered the house. + </p> + <p> + The baron was warming his feet at the fire, and was listening to the + farmer's talk about country matters. He talked about marriages, births and + deaths, then about the fall in the price of grain and the latest news + about cattle. The “Veularde” (as he called a cow that had been bought at + the fair of Veules) had calved in the middle of June. The cider had not + been first-class last year. Apricots were almost disappearing from the + country. + </p> + <p> + Then we had dinner. It was a good rustic meal, simple and abundant, long + and tranquil. And while we were dining I noticed the special kind of + friendly familiarity which had struck me from the start between the baron + and the peasant. + </p> + <p> + Outside, the beeches continued sighing in the night wind, and our two + dogs, shut up in a shed, were whining and howling in an uncanny fashion. + The fire was dying out in the big fireplace. The maid-servant had gone to + bed. Maitre Lebrument said in his turn: + </p> + <p> + “If you don't mind, M'sieu le Baron, I'm going to bed. I am not used to + staying up late.” + </p> + <p> + The baron extended his hand toward him and said: “Go, my friend,” in so + cordial a tone that I said, as soon as the man had disappeared: + </p> + <p> + “He is devoted to you, this farmer?” + </p> + <p> + “Better than that, my dear fellow! It is a drama, an old drama, simple and + very sad, that attaches him to me. Here is the story: + </p> + <p> + “You know that my father was colonel in a cavalry regiment. His orderly + was this young fellow, now an old man, the son of a farmer. When my father + retired from the army he took this former soldier, then about forty; as + his servant. I was at that time about thirty. We were living in our old + chateau of Valrenne, near Caudebec-en-Caux. + </p> + <p> + “At this period my mother's chambermaid was one of the prettiest girls you + could see, fair-haired, slender and sprightly in manner, a genuine + soubrette of the old type that no longer exists. To-day these creatures + spring up into hussies before their time. Paris, with the aid of the + railways, attracts them, calls them, takes hold of them, as soon as they + are budding into womanhood, these little sluts who in old times remained + simple maid-servants. Every man passing by, as recruiting sergeants did + formerly, looking for recruits, with conscripts, entices and ruins them + —these foolish lassies—and we have now only the scum of the + female sex for servant maids, all that is dull, nasty, common and + ill-formed, too ugly, even for gallantry. + </p> + <p> + “Well, this girl was charming, and I often gave her a kiss in dark + corners; nothing more, I swear to you! She was virtuous, besides; and I + had some respect for my mother's house, which is more than can be said of + the blackguards of the present day. + </p> + <p> + “Now, it happened that my man-servant, the ex-soldier, the old farmer you + have just seen, fell madly in love with this girl, perfectly daft. The + first thing we noticed was that he forgot everything, he paid no attention + to anything. + </p> + <p> + “My father said incessantly: + </p> + <p> + “'See here, Jean, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?' + </p> + <p> + “He replied: + </p> + <p> + “'No, no, M'sieu le Baron. There's nothing the matter with me.' + </p> + <p> + “He grew thin; he broke glasses and let plates fall when waiting on the + table. We thought he must have been attacked by some nervous affection, + and sent for the doctor, who thought he could detect symptoms of spinal + disease. Then my father, full of anxiety about his faithful man-servant, + decided to place him in a private hospital. When the poor fellow heard of + my father's intentions he made a clean breast of it. + </p> + <p> + “'M'sieu le Baron' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, my boy?' + </p> + <p> + “'You see, the thing I want is not physic.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ha! what is it, then?' + </p> + <p> + “'It's marriage!' + </p> + <p> + “My father turned round and stared at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “'What's that you say, eh?' + </p> + <p> + “'It's marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “'Marriage! So, then, you jackass, you're to love.' + </p> + <p> + “'That's how it is, M'sieu le Baron.' + </p> + <p> + “And my father began to laugh so immoderately that my mother called out + through the wall of the next room: + </p> + <p> + “'What in the world is the matter with you, Gontran?' + </p> + <p> + “He replied: + </p> + <p> + “'Come here, Catherine.' + </p> + <p> + “And when she came in he told her, with tears in his eyes from sheer + laughter, that his idiot of a servant-man was lovesick. + </p> + <p> + “But my mother, instead of laughing, was deeply affected. + </p> + <p> + “'Who is it that you have fallen in love with, my poor fellow?' she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He answered without hesitation: + </p> + <p> + “'With Louise, Madame le Baronne.' + </p> + <p> + “My mother said with the utmost gravity: 'We must try to arrange this + matter the best way we can.' + </p> + <p> + “So Louise was sent for and questioned by my mother; and she said in reply + that she knew all about Jean's liking for her, that in fact Jean had + spoken to her about it several times, but that she did not want him. She + refused to say why. + </p> + <p> + “And two months elapsed during which my father and mother never ceased to + urge this girl to marry Jean. As she declared she was not in love with any + other man, she could not give any serious reason for her refusal. My + father at last overcame her resistance by means of a big present of money, + and started the pair of them on a farm—this very farm. I did not see + them for three years, and then I learned that Louise had died of + consumption. But my father and mother died, too, in their turn, and it was + two years more before I found myself face to face with Jean. + </p> + <p> + “At last one autumn day about the end of October the idea came into my + head to go hunting on this part of my estate, which my father had told me + was full of game. + </p> + <p> + “So one evening, one wet evening, I arrived at this house. I was shocked + to find my father's old servant with perfectly white hair, though he was + not more than forty-five or forty-six years of age. I made him dine with + me, at the very table where we are now sitting. It was raining hard. We + could hear the rain battering at the roof, the walls, and the windows, + flowing in a perfect deluge into the farmyard; and my dog was howling in + the shed where the other dogs are howling to-night. + </p> + <p> + “All of a sudden, when the servant-maid had gone to bed, the man said in a + timid voice: + </p> + <p> + “'M'sieu le Baron.' + </p> + <p> + “'What is it, my dear Jean?' + </p> + <p> + “'I have something to tell you.' + </p> + <p> + “'Tell it, my dear Jean.' + </p> + <p> + “'You remember Louise, my wife.' + </p> + <p> + “'Certainly, I remember her.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, she left me a message for you.' + </p> + <p> + “'What was it?' + </p> + <p> + “'A—a—well, it was what you might call a confession.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ha—and what was it about?' + </p> + <p> + “'It was—it was—I'd rather, all the same, tell you nothing + about it—but I must—I must. Well, it's this—it wasn't + consumption she died of at all. It was grief—well, that's the long + and short of it. As soon as she came to live here after we were married, + she grew thin; she changed so that you wouldn't know her, M'sieu le Baron. + She was just as I was before I married her, but it was just the opposite, + just the opposite. + </p> + <p> + “'I sent for the doctor. He said it was her liver that was affected—he + said it was what he called a “hepatic” complaint—I don't know these + big words, M'sieu le Baron. Then I bought medicine for her, heaps on heaps + of bottles that cost about three hundred francs. But she'd take none of + them; she wouldn't have them; she said: “It's no use, my poor Jean; it + wouldn't do me any good.” I saw well that she had some hidden trouble; and + then I found her one time crying, and I didn't know what to do, no, I + didn't know what to do. I bought her caps, and dresses, and hair oil, and + earrings. Nothing did her any good. And I saw that she was going to die. + And so one night at the end of November, one snowy night, after she had + been in bed the whole day, she told me to send for the cure. So I went for + him. As soon as he came—' + </p> + <p> + “'Jean,' she said, 'I am going to make a confession to you. I owe it to + you, Jean. I have never been false to you, never! never, before or after + you married me. M'sieu le Cure is there, and can tell you so; he knows my + soul. Well, listen, Jean. If I am dying, it is because I was not able to + console myself for leaving the chateau, because I was too fond of the + young Baron Monsieur Rene, too fond of him, mind you, Jean, there was no + harm in it! This is the thing that's killing me. When I could see him no + more I felt that I should die. If I could only have seen him, I might have + lived, only seen him, nothing more. I wish you'd tell him some day, by and + by, when I am no longer here. You will tell him, swear you, will, Jean—swear + it—in the presence of M'sieu le Cure! It will console me to know + that he will know it one day, that this was the cause of my death! Swear + it!' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, I gave her my promise, M'sieu le Baron, and on the faith of an + honest man I have kept my word.' + </p> + <p> + “And then he ceased speaking, his eyes filling with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Good God! my dear boy, you can't form any idea of the emotion that filled + me when I heard this poor devil, whose wife I had killed without + suspecting it, telling me this story on that wet night in this very + kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “I exclaimed: 'Ah! my poor Jean! my poor Jean!' + </p> + <p> + “He murmured: 'Well, that's all, M'sieu le Baron. I could not help it, one + way or the other—and now it's all over!' + </p> + <p> + “I caught his hand across the table, and I began to weep. + </p> + <p> + “He asked, 'Will you come and see her grave?' I nodded assent, for I + couldn't speak. He rose, lighted a lantern, and we walked through the + blinding rain by the light of the lantern. + </p> + <p> + “He opened a gate, and I saw some crosses of black wood. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly he stopped before a marble slab and said: 'There it is,' and he + flashed the lantern close to it so that I could read the inscription: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'TO LOUISE HORTENSE MARINET, + “'Wife of Jean-Francois Lebrument, Farmer, + “'SHE WAS A FAITHFUL WIFE. GOD REST HER SOUL.' +</pre> + <p> + “We fell on our knees in the damp grass, he and I, with the lantern + between us, and I saw the rain beating on the white marble slab. And I + thought of the heart of her sleeping there in her grave. Ah! poor heart! + poor heart! Since then I come here every year. And I don't know why, but I + feel as if I were guilty of some crime in the presence of this man who + always looks as if he forgave me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DEVIL + </h2> + <p> + The peasant and the doctor stood on opposite sides of the bed, beside the + old, dying woman. She was calm and resigned and her mind quite clear as + she looked at them and listened to their conversation. She was going to + die, and she did not rebel at it, for her time was come, as she was + ninety-two. + </p> + <p> + The July sun streamed in at the window and the open door and cast its hot + flames on the uneven brown clay floor, which had been stamped down by four + generations of clodhoppers. The smell of the fields came in also, driven + by the sharp wind and parched by the noontide heat. The grass-hoppers + chirped themselves hoarse, and filled the country with their shrill noise, + which was like that of the wooden toys which are sold to children at fair + time. + </p> + <p> + The doctor raised his voice and said: “Honore, you cannot leave your + mother in this state; she may die at any moment.” And the peasant, in + great distress, replied: “But I must get in my wheat, for it has been + lying on the ground a long time, and the weather is just right for it; + what do you say about it, mother?” And the dying old woman, still + tormented by her Norman avariciousness, replied yes with her eyes and her + forehead, and thus urged her son to get in his wheat, and to leave her to + die alone. + </p> + <p> + But the doctor got angry, and, stamping his foot, he said: “You are no + better than a brute, do you hear, and I will not allow you to do it, do + you understand? And if you must get in your wheat today, go and fetch + Rapet's wife and make her look after your mother; I will have it, do you + understand me? And if you do not obey me, I will let you die like a dog, + when you are ill in your turn; do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + The peasant, a tall, thin fellow with slow movements, who was tormented by + indecision, by his fear of the doctor and his fierce love of saving, + hesitated, calculated, and stammered out: “How much does La Rapet charge + for attending sick people?” “How should I know?” the doctor cried. “That + depends upon how long she is needed. Settle it with her, by Heaven! But I + want her to be here within an hour, do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + So the man decided. “I will go for her,” he replied; “don't get angry, + doctor.” And the latter left, calling out as he went: “Be careful, be very + careful, you know, for I do not joke when I am angry!” As soon as they + were alone the peasant turned to his mother and said in a resigned voice: + “I will go and fetch La Rapet, as the man will have it. Don't worry till I + get back.” + </p> + <p> + And he went out in his turn. + </p> + <p> + La Rapet, who was an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of + the neighborhood, and then, as soon as she had sewn her customers into + that linen cloth from which they would emerge no more, she went and took + up her iron to smooth out the linen of the living. Wrinkled like a last + year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious with a phenomenal avarice, + bent double, as if she had been broken in half across the loins by the + constant motion of passing the iron over the linen, one might have said + that she had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a death struggle. She + never spoke of anything but of the people she had seen die, of the various + kinds of deaths at which she had been present, and she related with the + greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just as a sportsman + recounts his luck. + </p> + <p> + When Honore Bontemps entered her cottage, he found her preparing the + starch for the collars of the women villagers, and he said: “Good-evening; + I hope you are pretty well, Mother Rapet?” + </p> + <p> + She turned her head round to look at him, and said: “As usual, as usual, + and you?” “Oh! as for me, I am as well as I could wish, but my mother is + not well.” “Your mother?” “Yes, my mother!” “What is the matter with her?” + “She is going to turn up her toes, that's what's the matter with her!” + </p> + <p> + The old woman took her hands out of the water and asked with sudden + sympathy: “Is she as bad as all that?” “The doctor says she will not last + till morning.” “Then she certainly is very bad!” Honore hesitated, for he + wanted to make a few preparatory remarks before coming to his proposition; + but as he could hit upon nothing, he made up his mind suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “How much will you ask to stay with her till the end? You know that I am + not rich, and I can not even afford to keep a servant girl. It is just + that which has brought my poor mother to this state—too much worry + and fatigue! She did the work of ten, in spite of her ninety-two years. + You don't find any made of that stuff nowadays!” + </p> + <p> + La Rapet answered gravely: “There are two prices: Forty sous by day and + three francs by night for the rich, and twenty sous by day and forty by + night for the others. You shall pay me the twenty and forty.” But the + peasant reflected, for he knew his mother well. He knew how tenacious of + life, how vigorous and unyielding she was, and she might last another + week, in spite of the doctor's opinion; and so he said resolutely: “No, I + would rather you would fix a price for the whole time until the end. I + will take my chance, one way or the other. The doctor says she will die + very soon. If that happens, so much the better for you, and so much the + worse for her, but if she holds out till to-morrow or longer, so much the + better for her and so much the worse for you!” + </p> + <p> + The nurse looked at the man in astonishment, for she had never treated a + death as a speculation, and she hesitated, tempted by the idea of the + possible gain, but she suspected that he wanted to play her a trick. “I + can say nothing until I have seen your mother,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then come with me and see her.” + </p> + <p> + She washed her hands, and went with him immediately. + </p> + <p> + They did not speak on the road; she walked with short, hasty steps, while + he strode on with his long legs, as if he were crossing a brook at every + step. + </p> + <p> + The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their + heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them + for some green grass. + </p> + <p> + When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: “Suppose it is all + over?” And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in the + sound of his voice. + </p> + <p> + But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her wretched + bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane, horribly thin, + knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like crabs, half closed + by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a century which she had + accomplished. + </p> + <p> + La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her pulse, + tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her + questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for + some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided + opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked: + “Well?” And the sick-nurse replied: “Well, she may last two days, perhaps + three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included.” + </p> + <p> + “Six francs! six francs!” he shouted. “Are you out of your mind? I tell + you she cannot last more than five or six hours!” And they disputed + angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the time + was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its own + accord, he finally agreed to her terms. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything, until + the corpse is taken out.” + </p> + <p> + And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat which was lying on the + ground under the hot sun which ripens the grain, while the sick-nurse went + in again to the house. + </p> + <p> + She had brought some work with her, for she worked without ceasing by the + side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for the + family which employed her as seamstress and paid her rather more in that + capacity. Suddenly, she asked: “Have you received the last sacraments, + Mother Bontemps?” + </p> + <p> + The old peasant woman shook her head, and La Rapet, who was very devout, + got up quickly: + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, is it possible? I will go and fetch the cure”; and she + rushed off to the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street + thought some accident had happened, when they saw her running. + </p> + <p> + The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a choir boy who + rang a bell to announce the passage of the Host through the parched and + quiet country. Some men who were working at a distance took off their + large hats and remained motionless until the white vestment had + disappeared behind some farm buildings; the women who were making up the + sheaves stood up to make the sign of the cross; the frightened black hens + ran away along the ditch until they reached a well-known hole, through + which they suddenly disappeared, while a foal which was tied in a meadow + took fright at the sight of the surplice and began to gallop round and + round, kicking out every now and then. The acolyte, in his red cassock, + walked quickly, and the priest, with his head inclined toward one shoulder + and his square biretta on his head, followed him, muttering some prayers; + while last of all came La Rapet, bent almost double as if she wished to + prostrate herself, as she walked with folded hands as they do in church. + </p> + <p> + Honore saw them pass in the distance, and he asked: “Where is our priest + going?” His man, who was more intelligent, replied: “He is taking the + sacrament to your mother, of course!” + </p> + <p> + The peasant was not surprised, and said: “That may be,” and went on with + his work. + </p> + <p> + Mother Bontemps confessed, received absolution and communion, and the + priest took his departure, leaving the two women alone in the suffocating + room, while La Rapet began to look at the dying woman, and to ask herself + whether it could last much longer. + </p> + <p> + The day was on the wane, and gusts of cooler air began to blow, causing a + view of Epinal, which was fastened to the wall by two pins, to flap up and + down; the scanty window curtains, which had formerly been white, but were + now yellow and covered with fly-specks, looked as if they were going to + fly off, as if they were struggling to get away, like the old woman's + soul. + </p> + <p> + Lying motionless, with her eyes open, she seemed to await with + indifference that death which was so near and which yet delayed its + coming. Her short breathing whistled in her constricted throat. It would + stop altogether soon, and there would be one woman less in the world; no + one would regret her. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall Honore returned, and when he went up to the bed and saw that + his mother was still alive, he asked: “How is she?” just as he had done + formerly when she had been ailing, and then he sent La Rapet away, saying + to her: “To-morrow morning at five o'clock, without fail.” And she + replied: “To-morrow, at five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + She came at daybreak, and found Honore eating his soup, which he had made + himself before going to work, and the sick-nurse asked him: “Well, is your + mother dead?” “She is rather better, on the contrary,” he replied, with a + sly look out of the corner of his eyes. And he went out. + </p> + <p> + La Rapet, seized with anxiety, went up to the dying woman, who remained in + the same state, lethargic and impassive, with her eyes open and her hands + clutching the counterpane. The nurse perceived that this might go on thus + for two days, four days, eight days, and her avaricious mind was seized + with fear, while she was furious at the sly fellow who had tricked her, + and at the woman who would not die. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, she began to work, and waited, looking intently at the + wrinkled face of Mother Bontemps. When Honore returned to breakfast he + seemed quite satisfied and even in a bantering humor. He was decidedly + getting in his wheat under very favorable circumstances. + </p> + <p> + La Rapet was becoming exasperated; every minute now seemed to her so much + time and money stolen from her. She felt a mad inclination to take this + old woman, this, headstrong old fool, this obstinate old wretch, and to + stop that short, rapid breath, which was robbing her of her time and + money, by squeezing her throat a little. But then she reflected on the + danger of doing so, and other thoughts came into her head; so she went up + to the bed and said: “Have you ever seen the Devil?” Mother Bontemps + murmured: “No.” + </p> + <p> + Then the sick-nurse began to talk and to tell her tales which were likely + to terrify the weak mind of the dying woman. Some minutes before one dies + the Devil appears, she said, to all who are in the death throes. He has a + broom in his hand, a saucepan on his head, and he utters loud cries. When + anybody sees him, all is over, and that person has only a few moments + longer to live. She then enumerated all those to whom the Devil had + appeared that year: Josephine Loisel, Eulalie Ratier, Sophie Padaknau, + Seraphine Grospied. + </p> + <p> + Mother Bontemps, who had at last become disturbed in mind, moved about, + wrung her hands, and tried to turn her head to look toward the end of the + room. Suddenly La Rapet disappeared at the foot of the bed. She took a + sheet out of the cupboard and wrapped herself up in it; she put the iron + saucepan on her head, so that its three short bent feet rose up like + horns, and she took a broom in her right hand and a tin pail in her left, + which she threw up suddenly, so that it might fall to the ground noisily. + </p> + <p> + When it came down, it certainly made a terrible noise. Then, climbing upon + a chair, the nurse lifted up the curtain which hung at the bottom of the + bed, and showed herself, gesticulating and uttering shrill cries into the + iron saucepan which covered her face, while she menaced the old peasant + woman, who was nearly dead, with her broom. + </p> + <p> + Terrified, with an insane expression on her face, the dying woman made a + superhuman effort to get up and escape; she even got her shoulders and + chest out of bed; then she fell back with a deep sigh. All was over, and + La Rapet calmly put everything back into its place; the broom into the + corner by the cupboard the sheet inside it, the saucepan on the hearth, + the pail on the floor, and the chair against the wall. Then, with + professional movements, she closed the dead woman's large eyes, put a + plate on the bed and poured some holy water into it, placing in it the + twig of boxwood that had been nailed to the chest of drawers, and kneeling + down, she fervently repeated the prayers for the dead, which she knew by + heart, as a matter of business. + </p> + <p> + And when Honore returned in the evening he found her praying, and he + calculated immediately that she had made twenty sows out of him, for she + had only spent three days and one night there, which made five francs + altogether, instead of the six which he owed her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SNIPE + </h2> + <p> + Old Baron des Ravots had for forty years been the champion sportsman of + his province. But a stroke of paralysis had kept him in his chair for the + last five or six years. He could now only shoot pigeons from the window of + his drawing-room or from the top of his high doorsteps. + </p> + <p> + He spent his time in reading. + </p> + <p> + He was a good-natured business man, who had much of the literary spirit of + a former century. He worshipped anecdotes, those little risque anecdotes, + and also true stories of events that happened in his neighborhood. As soon + as a friend came to see him he asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, anything new?” + </p> + <p> + And he knew how to worm out information like an examining lawyer. + </p> + <p> + On sunny days he had his large reclining chair, similar to a bed, wheeled + to the hall door. A man servant behind him held his guns, loaded them and + handed them to his master. Another valet, hidden in the bushes, let fly a + pigeon from time to time at irregular intervals, so that the baron should + be unprepared and be always on the watch. + </p> + <p> + And from morning till night he fired at the birds, much annoyed if he were + taken by surprise and laughing till he cried when the animal fell straight + to the earth or, turned over in some comical and unexpected manner. He + would turn to the man who was loading the gun and say, almost choking with + laughter: + </p> + <p> + “Did that get him, Joseph? Did you see how he fell?” Joseph invariably + replied: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur le baron never misses them.” + </p> + <p> + In autumn, when the shooting season opened, he invited his friends as he + had done formerly, and loved to hear them firing in the distance. He + counted the shots and was pleased when they followed each other rapidly. + And in the evening he made each guest give a faithful account of his day. + They remained three hours at table telling about their sport. + </p> + <p> + They were strange and improbable adventures in which the romancing spirit + of the sportsmen delighted. Some of them were memorable stories and were + repeated regularly. The story of a rabbit that little Vicomte de Bourril + had missed in his vestibule convulsed them with laughter each year anew. + Every five minutes a fresh speaker would say: + </p> + <p> + “I heard 'birr! birr!' and a magnificent covey rose at ten paces from me. + I aimed. Pif! paf! and I saw a shower, a veritable shower of birds. There + were seven of them!” + </p> + <p> + And they all went into raptures, amazed, but reciprocally credulous. + </p> + <p> + But there was an old custom in the house called “The Story of the Snipe.” + </p> + <p> + Whenever this queen of birds was in season the same ceremony took place at + each dinner. As they worshipped this incomparable bird, each guest ate one + every evening, but the heads were all left in the dish. + </p> + <p> + Then the baron, acting the part of a bishop, had a plate brought to him + containing a little fat, and he carefully anointed the precious heads, + holding them by the tip of their slender, needle-like beak. A lighted + candle was placed beside him and everyone was silent in an anxiety of + expectation. + </p> + <p> + Then he took one of the heads thus prepared, stuck a pin through it and + stuck the pin on a cork, keeping the whole contrivance steady by means of + little crossed sticks, and carefully placed this object on the neck of a + bottle in the manner of a tourniquet. + </p> + <p> + All the guests counted simultaneously in a loud tone— + </p> + <p> + “One-two-three.” + </p> + <p> + And the baron with a fillip of the finger made this toy whirl round. + </p> + <p> + The guest to whom the long beak pointed when the head stopped became the + possessor of all the heads, a feast fit for a king, which made his + neighbors look askance. + </p> + <p> + He took them one by one and toasted them over the candle. The grease + sputtered, the roasting flesh smoked and the lucky winner ate the head, + holding it by the beak and uttering exclamations of enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + And at each head the diners, raising their glasses, drank to his health. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished the last head he was obliged, at the baron's orders, + to tell an anecdote to compensate the disappointed ones. + </p> + <p> + Here are some of the stories. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WILL + </h2> + <p> + I knew that tall young fellow, Rene de Bourneval. He was an agreeable man, + though rather melancholy and seemed prejudiced against everything, was + very skeptical, and he could with a word tear down social hypocrisy. He + would often say: + </p> + <p> + “There are no honorable men, or, at least, they are only relatively so + when compared with those lower than themselves.” + </p> + <p> + He had two brothers, whom he never saw, the Messieurs de Courcils. I + always supposed they were by another father, on account of the difference + in the name. I had frequently heard that the family had a strange history, + but did not know the details. As I took a great liking to Rene we soon + became intimate friends, and one evening, when I had been dining with him + alone, I asked him, by chance: “Are you a son of the first or second + marriage?” He grew rather pale, and then flushed, and did not speak for a + few moments; he was visibly embarrassed. Then he smiled in the melancholy, + gentle manner, which was peculiar to him, and said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, if it will not weary you, I can give you some very + strange particulars about my life. I know that you are a sensible man, so + I do not fear that our friendship will suffer by my revelations; and + should it suffer, I should not care about having you for my friend any + longer. + </p> + <p> + “My mother, Madame de Courcils, was a poor little, timid woman, whom her + husband had married for the sake of her fortune, and her whole life was + one of martyrdom. Of a loving, timid, sensitive disposition, she was + constantly being ill-treated by the man who ought to have been my father, + one of those boors called country gentlemen. A month after their marriage + he was living a licentious life and carrying on liaisons with the wives + and daughters of his tenants. This did not prevent him from having three + children by his wife, that is, if you count me in. My mother said nothing, + and lived in that noisy house like a little mouse. Set aside, unnoticed, + nervous, she looked at people with her bright, uneasy, restless eyes, the + eyes of some terrified creature which can never shake off its fear. And + yet she was pretty, very pretty and fair, a pale blonde, as if her hair + had lost its color through her constant fear. + </p> + <p> + “Among the friends of Monsieur de Courcils who constantly came to her + chateau, there was an ex-cavalry officer, a widower, a man who was feared, + who was at the same time tender and violent, capable of the most + determined resolves, Monsieur de Bourneval, whose name I bear. He was a + tall, thin man, with a heavy black mustache. I am very like him. He was a + man who had read a great deal, and his ideas were not like those of most + of his class. His great-grandmother had been a friend of J. J. Rousseau's, + and one might have said that he had inherited something of this ancestral + connection. He knew the Contrat Social, and the Nouvelle Heloise by heart, + and all those philosophical books which prepared in advance the overthrow + of our old usages, prejudices, superannuated laws and imbecile morality. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that he loved my mother, and she loved him, but their liaison + was carried on so secretly that no one guessed at its existence. The poor, + neglected, unhappy woman must have clung to him in despair, and in her + intimacy with him must have imbibed all his ways of thinking, theories of + free thought, audacious ideas of independent love; but being so timid she + never ventured to speak out, and it was all driven back, condensed, shut + up in her heart. + </p> + <p> + “My two brothers were very hard towards her, like their father, and never + gave her a caress, and, accustomed to seeing her count for nothing in the + house, they treated her rather like a servant. I was the only one of her + sons who really loved her and whom she loved. + </p> + <p> + “When she died I was seventeen, and I must add, in order that you may + understand what follows, that a lawsuit between my father and mother had + been decided in my mother's favor, giving her the bulk of the property, + and, thanks to the tricks of the law, and the intelligent devotion of a + lawyer to her interests, the right to make her will in favor of whom she + pleased. + </p> + <p> + “We were told that there was a will at the lawyer's office and were + invited to be present at the reading of it. I can remember it, as if it + were yesterday. It was an imposing scene, dramatic, burlesque and + surprising, occasioned by the posthumous revolt of that dead woman, by the + cry for liberty, by the demands of that martyred one who had been crushed + by our oppression during her lifetime and who, from her closed tomb, + uttered a despairing appeal for independence. + </p> + <p> + “The man who believed he was my father, a stout, ruddy-faced man, who + looked like a butcher, and my brothers, two great fellows of twenty and + twenty-two, were waiting quietly in their chairs. Monsieur de Bourneval, + who had been invited to be present, came in and stood behind me. He was + very pale and bit his mustache, which was turning gray. No doubt he was + prepared for what was going to happen. The lawyer double-locked the door + and began to read the will, after having opened, in our presence, the + envelope, sealed with red wax, of the contents of which he was ignorant.” + </p> + <p> + My friend stopped talking abruptly, and rising, took from his + writing-table an old paper, unfolded it, kissed it and then continued: + “This is the will of my beloved mother: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'I, the undersigned, Anne Catherine-Genevieve-Mathilde de + Croixluce, the legitimate wife of Leopold-Joseph Gontran de Councils + sound in body and mind, here express my last wishes. + + “I first of all ask God, and then my dear son Rene to pardon me for + the act I am about to commit. I believe that my child's heart is + great enough to understand me, and to forgive me. I have suffered + my whole life long. I was married out of calculation, then + despised, misunderstood, oppressed and constantly deceived by my + husband. + + “'I forgive him, but I owe him nothing. + + “'My elder sons never loved me, never petted me, scarcely treated me + as a mother, but during my whole life I did my duty towards them, + and I owe them nothing more after my death. The ties of blood + cannot exist without daily and constant affection. An ungrateful + son is less than a stranger; he is a culprit, for he has no right + to be indifferent towards his mother. + + “'I have always trembled before men, before their unjust laws, their + inhuman customs, their shameful prejudices. Before God, I have no + longer any fear. Dead, I fling aside disgraceful hypocrisy; I dare + to speak my thoughts, and to avow and to sign the secret of my + heart. + + “'I therefore leave that part of my fortune of which the law allows + me to dispose, in trust to my dear lover, Pierre-Germer-Simon de + Bourneval, to revert afterwards to our dear son Rene. + + “'(This bequest is specified more precisely in a deed drawn + up by a notary.) + + “'And I declare before the Supreme Judge who hears me, that I should + have cursed heaven and my own existence, if I had not found the + deep, devoted, tender, unshaken affection of my lover; if I had not + felt in his arms that the Creator made His creatures to love, + sustain and console each other, and to weep together in the hours of + sadness. + + “'Monsieur de Courcils is the father of my two eldest sons; Rene, + alone, owes his life to Monsieur de Bourneval. I pray the Master of + men and of their destinies, to place father and son above social + prejudices, to make them love each other until they die, and to love + me also in my coffin. + + “'These are my last thoughts, and my last wish. + + “'MATHILDE DE CROIXLUCE.'” + </pre> + <p> + “Monsieur de Courcils had risen and he cried: + </p> + <p> + “'It is the will of a madwoman.' + </p> + <p> + “Then Monsieur de Bourneval stepped forward and said in a loud, + penetrating voice: 'I, Simon de Bourneval, solemnly declare that this + writing contains nothing but the strict truth, and I am ready to prove it + by letters which I possess.' + </p> + <p> + “On hearing that, Monsieur de Courcils went up to him, and I thought that they were going to attack each other. There they stood, both of them tall, + one stout and the other thin, both trembling. My mother's husband + stammered out: 'You are a worthless wretch!' And the other replied in a + loud, dry voice: 'We will meet elsewhere, monsieur. I should have already + slapped your ugly face and challenged you long since if I had not, before + everything else, thought of the peace of mind during her lifetime of that + poor woman whom you caused to suffer so greatly.' + </p> + <p> + “Then, turning to me, he said: 'You are my son; will you come with me? I + have no right to take you away, but I shall assume it, if you are willing + to come with me: I shook his hand without replying, and we went out + together. I was certainly three parts mad. + </p> + <p> + “Two days later Monsieur de Bourneval killed Monsieur de Courcils in a + duel. My brothers, to avoid a terrible scandal, held their tongues. I + offered them and they accepted half the fortune which my mother had left + me. I took my real father's name, renouncing that which the law gave me, + but which was not really mine. Monsieur de Bourneval died three years + later and I am still inconsolable.” + </p> + <p> + He rose from his chair, walked up and down the room, and, standing in + front of me, said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I say that my mother's will was one of the most beautiful, the most + loyal, as well as one of the grandest acts that a woman could perform. Do + you not think so?” + </p> + <p> + I held out both hands to him, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I most certainly do, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE + </h2> + <p> + Ever since he entered France with the invading army Walter Schnaffs had + considered himself the most unfortunate of men. He was large, had + difficulty in walking, was short of breath and suffered frightfully with + his feet, which were very flat and very fat. But he was a peaceful, + benevolent man, not warlike or sanguinary, the father of four children + whom he adored, and married to a little blonde whose little tendernesses, + attentions and kisses he recalled with despair every evening. He liked to + rise late and retire early, to eat good things in a leisurely manner and + to drink beer in the saloon. He reflected, besides, that all that is sweet + in existence vanishes with life, and he maintained in his heart a fearful + hatred, instinctive as well as logical, for cannon, rifles, revolvers and + swords, but especially for bayonets, feeling that he was unable to dodge + this dangerous weapon rapidly enough to protect his big paunch. + </p> + <p> + And when night fell and he lay on the ground, wrapped in his cape beside + his comrades who were snoring, he thought long and deeply about those he + had left behind and of the dangers in his path. “If he were killed what + would become of the little ones? Who would provide for them and bring them + up?” Just at present they were not rich, although he had borrowed when he + left so as to leave them some money. And Walter Schnaffs wept when he + thought of all this. + </p> + <p> + At the beginning of a battle his legs became so weak that he would have + fallen if he had not reflected that the entire army would pass over his + body. The whistling of the bullets gave him gooseflesh. + </p> + <p> + For months he had lived thus in terror and anguish. + </p> + <p> + His company was marching on Normandy, and one day he was sent to + reconnoitre with a small detachment, simply to explore a portion of the + territory and to return at once. All seemed quiet in the country; nothing + indicated an armed resistance. + </p> + <p> + But as the Prussians were quietly descending into a little valley + traversed by deep ravines a sharp fusillade made them halt suddenly, + killing twenty of their men, and a company of sharpshooters, suddenly + emerging from a little wood as large as your hand, darted forward with + bayonets at the end of their rifles. + </p> + <p> + Walter Schnaffs remained motionless at first, so surprised and bewildered + that he did not even think of making his escape. Then he was seized with a + wild desire to run away, but he remembered at once that he ran like a + tortoise compared with those thin Frenchmen, who came bounding along like + a lot of goats. Perceiving a large ditch full of brushwood covered with + dead leaves about six paces in front of him, he sprang into it with both + feet together, without stopping to think of its depth, just as one jumps + from a bridge into the river. + </p> + <p> + He fell like an arrow through a thick layer of vines and thorny brambles + that tore his face and hands and landed heavily in a sitting posture on a + bed of stones. Raising his eyes, he saw the sky through the hole he had + made in falling through. This aperture might betray him, and he crawled + along carefully on hands and knees at the bottom of this ditch beneath the + covering of interlacing branches, going as fast as he could and getting + away from the scene of the skirmish. Presently he stopped and sat down, + crouched like a hare amid the tall dry grass. + </p> + <p> + He heard firing and cries and groans going on for some time. Then the + noise of fighting grew fainter and ceased. All was quiet and silent. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly something stirred, beside him. He was frightfully startled. It + was a little bird which had perched on a branch and was moving the dead + leaves. For almost an hour Walter Schnaffs' heart beat loud and rapidly. + </p> + <p> + Night fell, filling the ravine with its shadows. The soldier began to + think. What was he to do? What was to become of him? Should he rejoin the + army? But how? By what road? And he began over again the horrible life of + anguish, of terror, of fatigue and suffering that he had led since the + commencement of the war. No! He no longer had the courage! He would not + have the energy necessary to endure long marches and to face the dangers + to which one was exposed at every moment. + </p> + <p> + But what should he do? He could not stay in this ravine in concealment + until the end of hostilities. No, indeed! If it were not for having to + eat, this prospect would not have daunted him greatly. But he had to eat, + to eat every day. + </p> + <p> + And here he was, alone, armed and in uniform, on the enemy's territory, + far from those who would protect him. A shiver ran over him. + </p> + <p> + All at once he thought: “If I were only a prisoner!” And his heart + quivered with a longing, an intense desire to be taken prisoner by the + French. A prisoner, he would be saved, fed, housed, sheltered from bullets + and swords, without any apprehension whatever, in a good, well-kept + prison. A prisoner! What a dream: + </p> + <p> + His resolution was formed at once. + </p> + <p> + “I will constitute myself a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + He rose, determined to put this plan into execution without a moment's + delay. But he stood motionless, suddenly a prey to disturbing reflections + and fresh terrors. + </p> + <p> + Where would he make himself a prisoner and how? In What direction? And + frightful pictures, pictures of death came into his mind. + </p> + <p> + He would run terrible danger in venturing alone through the country with + his pointed helmet. + </p> + <p> + Supposing he should meet some peasants. These peasants seeing a Prussian + who had lost his way, an unprotected Prussian, would kill him as if he + were a stray dog! They would murder him with their forks, their picks, + their scythes and their shovels. They would make a stew of him, a pie, + with the frenzy of exasperated, conquered enemies. + </p> + <p> + If he should meet the sharpshooters! These sharpshooters, madmen without + law or discipline, would shoot him just for amusement to pass an hour; it + would make them laugh to see his head. And he fancied he was already + leaning against a wall in-front of four rifles whose little black + apertures seemed to be gazing at him. + </p> + <p> + Supposing he should meet the French army itself. The vanguard would take + him for a scout, for some bold and sly trooper who had set off alone to + reconnoitre, and they would fire at him. And he could already hear, in + imagination, the irregular shots of soldiers lying in the brush, while he + himself, standing in the middle of the field, was sinking to the earth, + riddled like a sieve with bullets which he felt piercing his flesh. + </p> + <p> + He sat down again in despair. His situation seemed hopeless. + </p> + <p> + It was quite a dark, black and silent night. He no longer budged, + trembling at all the slight and unfamiliar sounds that occur at night. The + sound of a rabbit crouching at the edge of his burrow almost made him run. + The cry of an owl caused him positive anguish, giving him a nervous shock + that pained like a wound. He opened his big eyes as wide as possible to + try and see through the darkness, and he imagined every moment that he + heard someone walking close beside him. + </p> + <p> + After interminable hours in which he suffered the tortures of the damned, + he noticed through his leafy cover that the sky was becoming bright. He at + once felt an intense relief. His limbs stretched out, suddenly relaxed, + his heart quieted down, his eyes closed; he fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke the sun appeared to be almost at the meridian. It must be + noon. No sound disturbed the gloomy silence. Walter Schnaffs noticed that + he was exceedingly hungry. + </p> + <p> + He yawned, his mouth watering at the thought of sausage, the good sausage + the soldiers have, and he felt a gnawing at his stomach. + </p> + <p> + He rose from the ground, walked a few steps, found that his legs were weak + and sat down to reflect. For two or three hours he again considered the + pros and cons, changing his mind every moment, baffled, unhappy, torn by + the most conflicting motives. + </p> + <p> + Finally he had an idea that seemed logical and practical. It was to watch + for a villager passing by alone, unarmed and with no dangerous tools of + his trade, and to run to him and give himself up, making him understand + that he was surrendering. + </p> + <p> + He took off his helmet, the point of which might betray him, and put his + head out of his hiding place with the utmost caution. + </p> + <p> + No solitary pedestrian could be perceived on the horizon. Yonder, to the + right, smoke rose from the chimney of a little village, smoke from kitchen + fires! And yonder, to the left, he saw at the end of an avenue of trees a + large turreted chateau. He waited till evening, suffering frightfully from + hunger, seeing nothing but flights of crows, hearing nothing but the + silent expostulation of his empty stomach. + </p> + <p> + And darkness once more fell on him. + </p> + <p> + He stretched himself out in his retreat and slept a feverish sleep, + haunted by nightmares, the sleep of a starving man. + </p> + <p> + Dawn again broke above his head and he began to make his observations. But + the landscape was deserted as on the previous day, and a new fear came + into Walter Schnaffs' mind—the fear of death by hunger! He pictured + himself lying at full length on his back at the bottom of his hiding + place, with his two eyes closed, and animals, little creatures of all + kinds, approached and began to feed on his dead body, attacking it all + over at once, gliding beneath his clothing to bite his cold flesh, and a + big crow pecked out his eyes with its sharp beak. + </p> + <p> + He almost became crazy, thinking he was going to faint and would not be + able to walk. And he was just preparing to rush off to the village, + determined to dare anything, to brave everything, when he perceived three + peasants walking to the fields with their forks across their shoulders, + and he dived back into his hiding place. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as it grew dark he slowly emerged from the ditch and started + off, stooping and fearful, with beating heart, towards the distant + chateau, preferring to go there rather than to the village, which seemed + to him as formidable as a den of tigers. + </p> + <p> + The lower windows were brilliantly lighted. One of them was open and from + it escaped a strong odor of roast meat, an odor which suddenly penetrated + to the olfactories and to the stomach of Walter Schnaffs, tickling his + nerves, making him breathe quickly, attracting him irresistibly and + inspiring his heart with the boldness of desperation. + </p> + <p> + And abruptly, without reflection, he placed himself, helmet on head, in + front of the window. + </p> + <p> + Eight servants were at dinner around a large table. But suddenly one of + the maids sat there, her mouth agape, her eyes fixed and letting fall her + glass. They all followed the direction of her gaze. + </p> + <p> + They saw the enemy! + </p> + <p> + Good God! The Prussians were attacking the chateau! + </p> + <p> + There was a shriek, only one shriek made up of eight shrieks uttered in + eight different keys, a terrific screaming of terror, then a tumultuous + rising from their seats, a jostling, a scrimmage and a wild rush to the + door at the farther end. Chairs fell over, the men knocked the women down + and walked over them. In two seconds the room was empty, deserted, and the + table, covered with eatables, stood in front of Walter Schnaffs, lost in + amazement and still standing at the window. + </p> + <p> + After some moments of hesitation he climbed in at the window and + approached the table. His fierce hunger caused him to tremble as if he + were in a fever, but fear still held him back, numbed him. He listened. + The entire house seemed to shudder. Doors closed, quick steps ran along + the floor above. The uneasy Prussian listened eagerly to these confused + sounds. Then he heard dull sounds, as though bodies were falling to the + ground at the foot of the walls, human beings jumping from the first + floor. + </p> + <p> + Then all motion, all disturbance ceased, and the great chateau became as + silent as the grave. + </p> + <p> + Walter Schnaffs sat down before a clean plate and began to eat. He took + great mouthfuls, as if he feared he might be interrupted before he had + swallowed enough. He shovelled the food into his mouth, open like a trap, + with both hands, and chunks of food went into his stomach, swelling out + his throat as it passed down. Now and then he stopped, almost ready to + burst like a stopped-up pipe. Then he would take the cider jug and wash + down his esophagus as one washes out a clogged rain pipe. + </p> + <p> + He emptied all the plates, all the dishes and all the bottles. Then, + intoxicated with drink and food, besotted, red in the face, shaken by + hiccoughs, his mind clouded and his speech thick, he unbuttoned his + uniform in order to breathe or he could not have taken a step. His eyes + closed, his mind became torpid; he leaned his heavy forehead on his folded + arms on the table and gradually lost all consciousness of things and + events. + </p> + <p> + The last quarter of the moon above the trees in the park shed a faint + light on the landscape. It was the chill hour that precedes the dawn. + </p> + <p> + Numerous silent shadows glided among the trees and occasionally a blade of + steel gleamed in the shadow as a ray of moonlight struck it. + </p> + <p> + The quiet chateau stood there in dark outline. Only two windows were still + lighted up on the ground floor. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a voice thundered: + </p> + <p> + “Forward! nom d'un nom! To the breach, my lads!” + </p> + <p> + And in an instant the doors, shutters and window panes fell in beneath a + wave of men who rushed in, breaking, destroying everything, and took the + house by storm. In a moment fifty soldiers, armed to the teeth, bounded + into the kitchen, where Walter Schnaffs was peacefully sleeping, and + placing to his breast fifty loaded rifles, they overturned him, rolled him + on the floor, seized him and tied his head and feet together. + </p> + <p> + He gasped in amazement, too besotted to understand, perplexed, bruised and + wild with fear. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a big soldier, covered with gold lace, put his foot on his + stomach, shouting: + </p> + <p> + “You are my prisoner. Surrender!” + </p> + <p> + The Prussian heard only the one word “prisoner” and he sighed, “Ya, ya, + ya.” + </p> + <p> + He was raised from the floor, tied in a chair and examined with lively + curiosity by his victors, who were blowing like whales. Several of them + sat down, done up with excitement and fatigue. + </p> + <p> + He smiled, actually smiled, secure now that he was at last a prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Another officer came into the room and said: + </p> + <p> + “Colonel, the enemy has escaped; several seem to have been wounded. We are + in possession.” + </p> + <p> + The big officer, who was wiping his forehead, exclaimed: “Victory!” + </p> + <p> + And he wrote in a little business memorandum book which he took from his + pocket: + </p> + <p> + “After a desperate encounter the Prussians were obliged to beat a retreat, + carrying with them their dead and wounded, the number of whom is estimated + at fifty men. Several were taken prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + The young officer inquired: + </p> + <p> + “What steps shall I take, colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “We will retire in good order,” replied the colonel, “to avoid having to + return and make another attack with artillery and a larger force of men.” + </p> + <p> + And he gave the command to set out. + </p> + <p> + The column drew up in line in the darkness beneath the walls of the + chateau and filed out, a guard of six soldiers with revolvers in their + hands surrounding Walter Schnaffs, who was firmly bound. + </p> + <p> + Scouts were sent ahead to reconnoitre. They advanced cautiously, halting + from time to time. + </p> + <p> + At daybreak they arrived at the district of La Roche-Oysel, whose national + guard had accomplished this feat of arms. + </p> + <p> + The uneasy and excited inhabitants were expecting them. When they saw the + prisoner's helmet tremendous shouts arose. The women raised their arms + in wonder, the old people wept. An old grandfather threw his crutch at the + Prussian and struck the nose of one of their own defenders. + </p> + <p> + The colonel roared: + </p> + <p> + “See that the prisoner is secure!” + </p> + <p> + At length they reached the town hall. The prison was opened and Walter + Schnaffs, freed from his bonds, cast into it. Two hundred armed men + mounted guard outside the building. + </p> + <p> + Then, in spite of the indigestion that had been troubling him for some + time, the Prussian, wild with joy, began to dance about, to dance + frantically, throwing out his arms and legs and uttering wild shouts until + he fell down exhausted beside the wall. + </p> + <p> + He was a prisoner-saved! + </p> + <p> + That was how the Chateau de Charnpignet was taken from the enemy after + only six hours of occupation. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Ratier, a cloth merchant, who had led the assault at the head of a + body of the national guard of La Roche-Oysel, was decorated with an order. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AT SEA + </h2> + <h3> + The following paragraphs recently appeared in the papers: + </h3> + <p> + “Boulogne-Sur-Mer, January 22.—Our correspondent writes: + </p> + <p> + “A fearful accident has thrown our sea-faring population, which has + suffered so much in the last two years, into the greatest consternation. + The fishing smack commanded by Captain Javel, on entering the harbor was + wrecked on the rocks of the harbor breakwater. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of the efforts of the life boat and the shooting of life lines + from the shore four sailors and the cabin boy were lost. + </p> + <p> + “The rough weather continues. Fresh disasters are anticipated.” + </p> + <p> + Who is this Captain Javel? Is he the brother of the one-armed man? + </p> + <p> + If the poor man tossed about in the waves and dead, perhaps, beneath his + wrecked boat, is the one I am thinking of, he took part, just eighteen + years ago, in another tragedy, terrible and simple as are all these + fearful tragedies of the sea. + </p> + <p> + Javel, senior, was then master of a trawling smack. + </p> + <p> + The trawling smack is the ideal fishing boat. So solidly built that it + fears no weather, with a round bottom, tossed about unceasingly on the + waves like a cork, always on top, always thrashed by the harsh salt winds + of the English Channel, it ploughs the sea unweariedly with bellying sail, + dragging along at its side a huge trawling net, which scours the depths of + the ocean, and detaches and gathers in all the animals asleep in the + rocks, the flat fish glued to the sand, the heavy crabs with their curved + claws, and the lobsters with their pointed mustaches. + </p> + <p> + When the breeze is fresh and the sea choppy, the boat starts in to trawl. + The net is fastened all along a big log of wood clamped with iron and is + let down by two ropes on pulleys at either end of the boat. And the boat, + driven by the wind and the tide, draws along this apparatus which ransacks + and plunders the depths of the sea. + </p> + <p> + Javel had on board his younger brother, four sailors and a cabin boy. He + had set sail from Boulogne on a beautiful day to go trawling. + </p> + <p> + But presently a wind sprang up, and a hurricane obliged the smack to run + to shore. She gained the English coast, but the high sea broke against the + rocks and dashed on the beach, making it impossible to go into port, + filling all the harbor entrances with foam and noise and danger. + </p> + <p> + The smack started off again, riding on the waves, tossed, shaken, + dripping, buffeted by masses of water, but game in spite of everything; + accustomed to this boisterous weather, which sometimes kept it roving + between the two neighboring countries without its being able to make port + in either. + </p> + <p> + At length the hurricane calmed down just as they were in the open, and + although the sea was still high the captain gave orders to cast the net. + </p> + <p> + So it was lifted overboard, and two men in the bows and two in the stern + began to unwind the ropes that held it. It suddenly touched bottom, but a + big wave made the boat heel, and Javel, junior, who was in the bows + directing the lowering of the net, staggered, and his arm was caught in + the rope which the shock had slipped from the pulley for an instant. He + made a desperate effort to raise the rope with the other hand, but the net + was down and the taut rope did not give. + </p> + <p> + The man cried out in agony. They all ran to his aid. His brother left the + rudder. They all seized the rope, trying to free the arm it was bruising. + But in vain. “We must cut it,” said a sailor, and he took from his pocket + a big knife, which, with two strokes, could save young Javel's arm. + </p> + <p> + But if the rope were cut the trawling net would be lost, and this net was + worth money, a great deal of money, fifteen hundred francs. And it + belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. + </p> + <p> + “No, do not cut, wait, I will luff,” he cried, in great distress. And he + ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, + being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented + also by the force of the tide and the wind. + </p> + <p> + Javel, junior, had sunk on his knees, his teeth clenched, his eyes + haggard. He did not utter a word. His brother came back to him, in dread + of the sailor's knife. + </p> + <p> + “Wait, wait,” he said. “We will let down the anchor.” + </p> + <p> + They cast anchor, and then began to turn the capstan to loosen the + moorings of the net. They loosened them at length and disengaged the + imprisoned arm, in its bloody woolen sleeve. + </p> + <p> + Young Javel seemed like an idiot. They took off his jersey and saw a + horrible sight, a mass of flesh from which the blood spurted as if from a + pump. Then the young man looked at his arm and murmured: “Foutu” (done + for). + </p> + <p> + Then, as the blood was making a pool on the deck of the boat, one of the + sailors cried: “He will bleed to death, we must bind the vein.” + </p> + <p> + So they took a cord, a thick, brown, tarry cord, and twisting it around + the arm above the wound, tightened it with all their might. The blood + ceased to spurt by slow degrees, and, presently, stopped altogether. + </p> + <p> + Young Javel rose, his arm hanging at his side. He took hold of it with the + other hand, raised it, turned it over, shook it. It was all mashed, the + bones broken, the muscles alone holding it together. He looked at it + sadly, reflectively. Then he sat down on a folded sail and his comrades + advised him to keep wetting the arm constantly to prevent it from + mortifying. + </p> + <p> + They placed a pail of water beside him, and every few minutes he dipped a + glass into it and bathed the frightful wound, letting the clear water + trickle on to it. + </p> + <p> + “You would be better in the cabin,” said his brother. He went down, but + came up again in an hour, not caring to be alone. And, besides, he + preferred the fresh air. He sat down again on his sail and began to bathe + his arm. + </p> + <p> + They made a good haul. The broad fish with their white bellies lay beside + him, quivering in the throes of death; he looked at them as he continued + to bathe his crushed flesh. + </p> + <p> + As they were about to return to Boulogne the wind sprang up anew, and the + little boat resumed its mad course, bounding and tumbling about, shaking + up the poor wounded man. + </p> + <p> + Night came on. The sea ran high until dawn. As the sun rose the English + coast was again visible, but, as the weather had abated a little, they + turned back towards the French coast, tacking as they went. + </p> + <p> + Towards evening Javel, junior, called his comrades and showed them some + black spots, all the horrible tokens of mortification in the portion of + the arm below the broken bones. + </p> + <p> + The sailors examined it, giving their opinion. + </p> + <p> + “That might be the 'Black,'” thought one. + </p> + <p> + “He should put salt water on it,” said another. + </p> + <p> + They brought some salt water and poured it on the wound. The injured man + became livid, ground his teeth and writhed a little, but did not exclaim. + </p> + <p> + Then, as soon as the smarting had abated, he said to his brother: + </p> + <p> + “Give me your knife.” + </p> + <p> + The brother handed it to him. + </p> + <p> + “Hold my arm up, quite straight, and pull it.” + </p> + <p> + They did as he asked them. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to cut off his arm. He cut gently, carefully, severing all + the tendons with this blade that was sharp as a razor. And, presently, + there was only a stump left. He gave a deep sigh and said: + </p> + <p> + “It had to be done. It was done for.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed relieved and breathed loud. He then began again to pour water on + the stump of arm that remained. + </p> + <p> + The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. + </p> + <p> + When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm and + examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also + examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it + over, and sniffing at it. + </p> + <p> + “You must throw that into the sea at once,” said his brother. + </p> + <p> + But Javel, junior, got angry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it is + my arm?” + </p> + <p> + And he took and placed it between his feet. + </p> + <p> + “It will putrefy, just the same,” said the older brother. Then an idea + came to the injured man. In order to preserve the fish when the boat was + long at sea, they packed it in salt, in barrels. He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Why can I not put it in pickle?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's a fact,” exclaimed the others. + </p> + <p> + Then they emptied one of the barrels, which was full from the haul of the + last few days; and right at the bottom of the barrel they laid the + detached arm. They covered it with salt, and then put back the fish one by + one. + </p> + <p> + One of the sailors said by way of joke: + </p> + <p> + “I hope we do not sell it at auction.” + </p> + <p> + And everyone laughed, except the two Javels. + </p> + <p> + The wind was still boisterous. They tacked within sight of Boulogne until + the following morning at ten o'clock. Young Javel continued to bathe his + wound. From time to time he rose and walked from one end to the other of + the boat. + </p> + <p> + His brother, who was at the tiller, followed him with glances, and shook + his head. + </p> + <p> + At last they ran into harbor. + </p> + <p> + The doctor examined the wound and pronounced it to be in good condition. + He dressed it properly and ordered the patient to rest. But Javel would + not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once + to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross. + </p> + <p> + It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved + in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel + he had brought for the purpose and took it home. + </p> + <p> + His wife and children looked for a long time at this fragment of their + father, feeling the fingers, and removing the grains of salt that were + under the nails. Then they sent for a carpenter to make a little coffin. + </p> + <p> + The next day the entire crew of the trawling smack followed the funeral of + the detached arm. The two brothers, side by side, led the procession; the + parish beadle carried the corpse under his arm. + </p> + <p> + Javel, junior, gave up the sea. He obtained a small position on the dock, + and when he subsequently talked about his accident, he would say + confidentially to his auditors: + </p> + <p> + “If my brother had been willing to cut away the net, I should still have + my arm, that is sure. But he was thinking only of his property.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MINUET + </h2> + <p> + Great misfortunes do not affect me very much, said John Bridelle, an old + bachelor who passed for a sceptic. I have seen war at quite close + quarters; I walked across corpses without any feeling of pity. The great + brutal facts of nature, or of humanity, may call forth cries of horror or + indignation, but do not cause us that tightening of the heart, that + shudder that goes down your spine at sight of certain little heartrending + episodes. + </p> + <p> + The greatest sorrow that anyone can experience is certainly the loss of a + child, to a mother; and the loss of his mother, to a man. It is intense, + terrible, it rends your heart and upsets your mind; but one is healed of + these shocks, just as large bleeding wounds become healed. Certain + meetings, certain things half perceived, or surmised, certain secret + sorrows, certain tricks of fate which awake in us a whole world of painful + thoughts, which suddenly unclose to us the mysterious door of moral + suffering, complicated, incurable; all the deeper because they appear + benign, all the more bitter because they are intangible, all the more + tenacious because they appear almost factitious, leave in our souls a sort + of trail of sadness, a taste of bitterness, a feeling of disenchantment, + from which it takes a long time to free ourselves. + </p> + <p> + I have always present to my mind two or three things that others would + surely not have noticed, but which penetrated my being like fine, sharp + incurable stings. + </p> + <p> + You might not perhaps understand the emotion that I retained from these + hasty impressions. I will tell you one of them. She was very old, but as + lively as a young girl. It may be that my imagination alone is responsible + for my emotion. + </p> + <p> + I am fifty. I was young then and studying law. I was rather sad, somewhat + of a dreamer, full of a pessimistic philosophy and did not care much for + noisy cafes, boisterous companions, or stupid girls. I rose early and one + of my chief enjoyments was to walk alone about eight o'clock in the + morning in the nursery garden of the Luxembourg. + </p> + <p> + You people never knew that nursery garden. It was like a forgotten garden + of the last century, as pretty as the gentle smile of an old lady. Thick + hedges divided the narrow regular paths,—peaceful paths between two + walls of carefully trimmed foliage. The gardener's great shears were + pruning unceasingly these leafy partitions, and here and there one came + across beds of flowers, lines of little trees looking like schoolboys out + for a walk, companies of magnificent rose bushes, or regiments of fruit + trees. + </p> + <p> + An entire corner of this charming spot was in habited by bees. Their straw + hives skillfully arranged at distances on boards had their entrances—as + large as the opening of a thimble—turned towards the sun, and all + along the paths one encountered these humming and gilded flies, the true + masters of this peaceful spot, the real promenaders of these quiet paths. + </p> + <p> + I came there almost every morning. I sat down on a bench and read. + Sometimes I let my book fall on my knees, to dream, to listen to the life + of Paris around me, and to enjoy the infinite repose of these + old-fashioned hedges. + </p> + <p> + But I soon perceived that I was not the only one to frequent this spot as + soon as the gates were opened, and I occasionally met face to face, at a + turn in the path, a strange little old man. + </p> + <p> + He wore shoes with silver buckles, knee-breeches, a snuff-colored frock + coat, a lace jabot, and an outlandish gray hat with wide brim and + long-haired surface that might have come out of the ark. + </p> + <p> + He was thin, very thin, angular, grimacing and smiling. His bright eyes + were restless beneath his eyelids which blinked continuously. He always + carried in his hand a superb cane with a gold knob, which must have been + for him some glorious souvenir. + </p> + <p> + This good man astonished me at first, then caused me the intensest + interest. I watched him through the leafy walls, I followed him at a + distance, stopping at a turn in the hedge so as not to be seen. + </p> + <p> + And one morning when he thought he was quite alone, he began to make the + most remarkable motions. First he would give some little springs, then + make a bow; then, with his slim legs, he would give a lively spring in the + air, clapping his feet as he did so, and then turn round cleverly, + skipping and frisking about in a comical manner, smiling as if he had an + audience, twisting his poor little puppet-like body, bowing pathetic and + ridiculous little greetings into the empty air. He was dancing. + </p> + <p> + I stood petrified with amazement, asking myself which of us was crazy, he + or I. + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly, advanced as actors do on the stage, then bowed and + retreated with gracious smiles, and kissing his hand as actors do, his + trembling hand, to the two rows of trimmed bushes. + </p> + <p> + Then he continued his walk with a solemn demeanor. + </p> + <p> + After that I never lost sight of him, and each morning he began anew his + outlandish exercises. + </p> + <p> + I was wildly anxious to speak to him. I decided to risk it, and one day, + after greeting him, I said: + </p> + <p> + “It is a beautiful day, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, the weather is just as it used to be.” + </p> + <p> + A week later we were friends and I knew his history. He had been a dancing + master at the opera, in the time of Louis XV. His beautiful cane was a + present from the Comte de Clermont. And when we spoke about dancing he + never stopping talking. + </p> + <p> + One day he said to me: + </p> + <p> + “I married La Castris, monsieur. I will introduce you to her if you wish + it, but she does not get here till later. This garden, you see, is our + delight and our life. It is all that remains of former days. It seems as + though we could not exist if we did not have it. It is old and distingue, + is it not? I seem to breathe an air here that has not changed since I was + young. My wife and I pass all our afternoons here, but I come in the + morning because I get up early.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as I had finished luncheon I returned to the Luxembourg, and + presently perceived my friend offering his arm ceremoniously to a very old + little lady dressed in black, to whom he introduced me. It was La Castris, + the great dancer, beloved by princes, beloved by the king, beloved by all + that century of gallantry that seems to have left behind it in the world + an atmosphere of love. + </p> + <p> + We sat down on a bench. It was the month of May. An odor of flowers + floated in the neat paths; a hot sun glided its rays between the branches + and covered us with patches of light. The black dress of La Castris seemed + to be saturated with sunlight. + </p> + <p> + The garden was empty. We heard the rattling of vehicles in the distance. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” I said to the old dancer, “what was the minuet?” + </p> + <p> + He gave a start. + </p> + <p> + “The minuet, monsieur, is the queen of dances, and the dance of queens, do + you understand? Since there is no longer any royalty, there is no longer + any minuet.” + </p> + <p> + And he began in a pompous manner a long dithyrambic eulogy which I could + not understand. I wanted to have the steps, the movements, the positions, + explained to me. He became confused, was amazed at his inability to make + me understand, became nervous and worried. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly, turning to his old companion who had remained silent and + serious, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Elise, would you like—say—would you like, it would be very + nice of you, would you like to show this gentleman what it was?” + </p> + <p> + She turned eyes uneasily in all directions, then rose without saying a + word and took her position opposite him. + </p> + <p> + Then I witnessed an unheard-of thing. + </p> + <p> + They advanced and retreated with childlike grimaces, smiling, swinging + each other, bowing, skipping about like two automaton dolls moved by some + old mechanical contrivance, somewhat damaged, but made by a clever workman + according to the fashion of his time. + </p> + <p> + And I looked at them, my heart filled with extraordinary emotions, my soul + touched with an indescribable melancholy. I seemed to see before me a + pathetic and comical apparition, the out-of-date ghost of a former + century. + </p> + <p> + They suddenly stopped. They had finished all the figures of the dance. For + some seconds they stood opposite each other, smiling in an astonishing + manner. Then they fell on each other's necks sobbing. + </p> + <p> + I left for the provinces three days later. I never saw them again. When I + returned to Paris, two years later, the nursery had been destroyed. What + became of them, deprived of the dear garden of former days, with its + mazes, its odor of the past, and the graceful windings of its hedges? + </p> + <p> + Are they dead? Are they wandering among modern streets like hopeless + exiles? Are they dancing—grotesque spectres—a fantastic minuet + in the moonlight, amid the cypresses of a cemetery, along the pathways + bordered by graves? + </p> + <p> + Their memory haunts me, obsesses me, torments me, remains with me like a + wound. Why? I do not know. + </p> + <p> + No doubt you think that very absurd? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SON + </h2> + <p> + The two old friends were walking in the garden in bloom, where spring was + bringing everything to life. + </p> + <p> + One was a senator, the other a member of the French Academy, both serious + men, full of very logical but solemn arguments, men of note and + reputation. + </p> + <p> + They talked first of politics, exchanging opinions; not on ideas, but on + men, personalities in this regard taking the predominance over ability. + Then they recalled some memories. Then they walked along in silence, + enervated by the warmth of the air. + </p> + <p> + A large bed of wallflowers breathed out a delicate sweetness. A mass of + flowers of all species and color flung their fragrance to the breeze, + while a cytisus covered with yellow clusters scattered its fine pollen + abroad, a golden cloud, with an odor of honey that bore its balmy seed + across space, similar to the sachet-powders of perfumers. + </p> + <p> + The senator stopped, breathed in the cloud of floating pollen, looked at + the fertile shrub, yellow as the sun, whose seed was floating in the air, + and said: + </p> + <p> + “When one considers that these imperceptible fragrant atoms will create + existences at a hundred leagues from here, will send a thrill through the + fibres and sap of female trees and produce beings with roots, growing from + a germ, just as we do, mortal like ourselves, and who will be replaced by + other beings of the same order, like ourselves again!” + </p> + <p> + And, standing in front of the brilliant cytisus, whose live pollen was + shaken off by each breath of air, the senator added: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, old fellow, if you had to keep count of all your children you would + be mightily embarrassed. Here is one who generates freely, and then lets + them go without a pang and troubles himself no more about them.” + </p> + <p> + “We do the same, my friend,” said the academician. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do not deny it; we let them go sometimes,” resumed the senator, + “but we are aware that we do, and that constitutes our superiority.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is not what I mean,” said the other, shaking his head. “You see, + my friend, that there is scarcely a man who has not some children that he + does not know, children—'father unknown'—whom he has generated + almost unconsciously, just as this tree reproduces. + </p> + <p> + “If we had to keep account of our amours, we should be just as embarrassed + as this cytisus which you apostrophized would be in counting up his + descendants, should we not? + </p> + <p> + “From eighteen to forty years, in fact, counting in every chance cursory + acquaintanceship, we may well say that we have been intimate with two or + three hundred women. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, my friend, among this number can you be sure that you have + not had children by at least one of them, and that you have not in the + streets, or in the bagnio, some blackguard of a son who steals from and + murders decent people, i.e., ourselves; or else a daughter in some + disreputable place, or, if she has the good fortune to be deserted by her + mother, as cook in some family? + </p> + <p> + “Consider, also, that almost all those whom we call 'prostitutes' have one + or two children of whose paternal parentage they are ignorant, generated + by chance at the price of ten or twenty francs. In every business there is + profit and loss. These wildings constitute the 'loss' in their profession. + Who generated them? You—I—we all did, the men called + 'gentlemen'! They are the consequences of our jovial little dinners, of + our gay evenings, of those hours when our comfortable physical being + impels us to chance liaisons. + </p> + <p> + “Thieves, marauders, all these wretches, in fact, are our children. And + that is better for us than if we were their children, for those scoundrels + generate also! + </p> + <p> + “I have in my mind a very horrible story that I will relate to you. It has + caused me incessant remorse, and, further than that, a continual doubt, a + disquieting uncertainty, that, at times, torments me frightfully. + </p> + <p> + “When I was twenty-five I undertook a walking tour through Brittany with + one of my friends, now a member of the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “After walking steadily for fifteen or twenty days and visiting the + Cotes-du-Nord and part of Finistere we reached Douarnenez. From there we + went without halting to the wild promontory of Raz by the bay of Les + Trepaases, and passed the night in a village whose name ends in 'of.' The + next morning a strange lassitude kept my friend in bed; I say bed from + habit, for our couch consisted simply of two bundles of straw. + </p> + <p> + “It would never do to be ill in this place. So I made him get up, and we + reached Andierne about four or five o'clock in the evening. + </p> + <p> + “The following day he felt a little better, and we set out again. But on + the road he was seized with intolerable pain, and we could scarcely get as + far as Pont Labbe. + </p> + <p> + “Here, at least, there was an inn. My friend went to bed, and the doctor, + who had been sent for from Quimper, announced that he had a high fever, + without being able to determine its nature. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know Pont Labbe? No? Well, then, it is the most Breton of all this + Breton Brittany, which extends from the promontory of Raz to the Morbihan, + of this land which contains the essence of the Breton manners, legends and + customs. Even to-day this corner of the country has scarcely changed. I + say 'even to-day,' for I now go there every year, alas! + </p> + <p> + “An old chateau laves the walls of its towers in a great melancholy pond, + melancholy and frequented by flights of wild birds. It has an outlet in a + river on which boats can navigate as far as the town. In the narrow + streets with their old-time houses the men wear big hats, embroidered + waistcoats and four coats, one on top of the other; the inside one, as + large as your hand, barely covering the shoulder-blades, and the outside + one coming to just above the seat of the trousers. + </p> + <p> + “The girls, tall, handsome and fresh have their bosoms crushed in a cloth + bodice which makes an armor, compresses them, not allowing one even to + guess at their robust and tortured neck. They also wear a strange + headdress. On their temples two bands embroidered in colors frame their + face, inclosing the hair, which falls in a shower at the back of their + heads, and is then turned up and gathered on top of the head under a + singular cap, often woven with gold or silver thread. + </p> + <p> + “The servant at our inn was eighteen at most, with very blue eyes, a pale + blue with two tiny black pupils, short teeth close together, which she + showed continually when she laughed, and which seemed strong enough to + grind granite. + </p> + <p> + “She did not know a word of French, speaking only Breton, as did most of + her companions. + </p> + <p> + “As my friend did not improve much, and although he had no definite + malady, the doctor forbade him to continue his journey yet, ordering + complete rest. I spent my days with him, and the little maid would come in + incessantly, bringing either my dinner or some herb tea. + </p> + <p> + “I teased her a little, which seemed to amuse her, but we did not chat, of + course, as we could not understand each other. + </p> + <p> + “But one night, after I had stayed quite late with my friend and was going + back to my room, I passed the girl, who was going to her room. It was just + opposite my open door, and, without reflection, and more for fun than + anything else, I abruptly seized her round the waist, and before she + recovered from her astonishment I had thrown her down and locked her in my + room. She looked at me, amazed, excited, terrified, not daring to cry out + for fear of a scandal and of being probably driven out, first by her + employers and then, perhaps, by her father. + </p> + <p> + “I did it as a joke at first. She defended herself bravely, and at the + first chance she ran to the door, drew back the bolt and fled. + </p> + <p> + “I scarcely saw her for several days. She would not let me come near her. + But when my friend was cured and we were to get out on our travels again I + saw her coming into my room about midnight the night before our departure, + just after I had retired. + </p> + <p> + “She threw herself into my arms and embraced me passionately, giving me + all the assurances of tenderness and despair that a woman can give when + she does not know a word of our language. + </p> + <p> + “A week later I had forgotten this adventure, so common and frequent when + one is travelling, the inn servants being generally destined to amuse + travellers in this way. + </p> + <p> + “I was thirty before I thought of it again, or returned to Pont Labbe. + </p> + <p> + “But in 1876 I revisited it by chance during a trip into Brittany, which I + made in order to look up some data for a book and to become permeated with + the atmosphere of the different places. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing seemed changed. The chateau still laved its gray wall in the pond + outside the little town; the inn was the same, though it had been + repaired, renovated and looked more modern. As I entered it I was received + by two young Breton girls of eighteen, fresh and pretty, bound up in their + tight cloth bodices, with their silver caps and wide embroidered bands on + their ears. + </p> + <p> + “It was about six o'clock in the evening. I sat down to dinner, and as the + host was assiduous in waiting on me himself, fate, no doubt, impelled me + to say: + </p> + <p> + “'Did you know the former proprietors of this house? I spent about ten + days here thirty years ago. I am talking old times.' + </p> + <p> + “'Those were my parents, monsieur,' he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then I told him why we had stayed over at that time, how my comrade had + been delayed by illness. He did not let me finish. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I recollect perfectly. I was about fifteen or sixteen. You slept in + the room at the end and your friend in the one I have taken for myself, + overlooking the street.' + </p> + <p> + “It was only then that the recollection of the little maid came vividly to + my mind. I asked: 'Do you remember a pretty little servant who was then in + your father's employ, and who had, if my memory does not deceive me, + pretty eyes and fresh-looking teeth?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, monsieur; she died in childbirth some time after.' + </p> + <p> + “And, pointing to the courtyard where a thin, lame man was stirring up the + manure, he added: + </p> + <p> + “'That is her son.' + </p> + <p> + “I began to laugh: + </p> + <p> + “'He is not handsome and does not look much like his mother. No doubt he + looks like his father.' + </p> + <p> + “'That is very possible,' replied the innkeeper; 'but we never knew whose + child it was. She died without telling any one, and no one here knew of + her having a beau. Every one was hugely astonished when they heard she was + enceinte, and no one would believe it.' + </p> + <p> + “A sort of unpleasant chill came over me, one of those painful surface + wounds that affect us like the shadow of an impending sorrow. And I looked + at the man in the yard. He had just drawn water for the horses and was + carrying two buckets, limping as he walked, with a painful effort of his + shorter leg. His clothes were ragged, he was hideously dirty, with long + yellow hair, so tangled that it looked like strands of rope falling down + at either side of his face. + </p> + <p> + “'He is not worth much,' continued the innkeeper; 'we have kept him for + charity's sake. Perhaps he would have turned out better if he had been + brought up like other folks. But what could one do, monsieur? No father, + no mother, no money! My parents took pity on him, but he was not their + child, you understand.' + </p> + <p> + “I said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I slept in my old room, and all night long I thought of this frightful + stableman, saying to myself: 'Supposing it is my own son? Could I have + caused that girl's death and procreated this being? It was quite + possible!' + </p> + <p> + “I resolved to speak to this man and to find out the exact date of his + birth. A variation of two months would set my doubts at rest. + </p> + <p> + “I sent for him the next day. But he could not speak French. He looked as + if he could not understand anything, being absolutely ignorant of his age, + which I had inquired of him through one of the maids. He stood before me + like an idiot, twirling his hat in 'his knotted, disgusting hands, + laughing stupidly, with something of his mother's laugh in the corners of + his mouth and of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The landlord, appearing on the scene, went to look for the birth + certificate of this wretched being. He was born eight months and + twenty-six days after my stay at Pont Labbe, for I recollect perfectly + that we reached Lorient on the fifteenth of August. The certificate + contained this description: 'Father unknown.' The mother called herself + Jeanne Kerradec. + </p> + <p> + “Then my heart began to beat rapidly. I could not utter a word, for I felt + as if I were choking. I looked at this animal whose long yellow hair + reminded me of a straw heap, and the beggar, embarrassed by my gaze, + stopped laughing, turned his head aside, and wanted to get away. + </p> + <p> + “All day long I wandered beside the little river, giving way to painful + reflections. But what was the use of reflection? I could be sure of + nothing. For hours and hours I weighed all the pros and cons in favor of + or against the probability of my being the father, growing nervous over + inexplicable suppositions, only to return incessantly to the same horrible + uncertainty, then to the still more atrocious conviction that this man was + my son. + </p> + <p> + “I could eat no dinner, and went to my room. + </p> + <p> + “I lay awake for a long time, and when I finally fell asleep I was haunted + by horrible visions. I saw this laborer laughing in my face and calling me + 'papa.' Then he changed into a dog and bit the calves of my legs, and no + matter how fast I ran he still followed me, and instead of barking, talked + and reviled me. Then he appeared before my colleagues at the Academy, who + had assembled to decide whether I was really his father; and one of them + cried out: 'There can be no doubt about it! See how he resembles him.' + And, indeed, I could see that this monster looked like me. And I awoke + with this idea fixed in my mind and with an insane desire to see the man + again and assure myself whether or not we had similar features. + </p> + <p> + “I joined him as he was going to mass (it was Sunday) and I gave him five + francs as I gazed at him anxiously. He began to laugh in an idiotic + manner, took the money, and then, embarrassed afresh at my gaze, he ran + off, after stammering an almost inarticulate word that, no doubt, meant + 'thank you.' + </p> + <p> + “My day passed in the same distress of mind as on the previous night. I + sent for the landlord, and, with the greatest caution, skill and tact, I + told him that I was interested in this poor creature, so abandoned by + every one and deprived of everything, and I wished to do something for + him. + </p> + <p> + “But the man replied: 'Oh, do not think of it, monsieur; he is of no + account; you will only cause yourself annoyance. I employ him to clean out + the stable, and that is all he can do. I give him his board and let him + sleep with the horses. He needs nothing more. If you have an old pair of + trousers, you might give them to him, but they will be in rags in a week.' + </p> + <p> + “I did not insist, intending to think it over. + </p> + <p> + “The poor wretch came home that evening frightfully drunk, came near + setting fire to the house, killed a horse by hitting it with a pickaxe, + and ended up by lying down to sleep in the mud in the midst of the pouring + rain, thanks to my donation. + </p> + <p> + “They begged me next day not to give him any more money. Brandy drove him + crazy, and as soon as he had two sous in his pocket he would spend it in + drink. The landlord added: 'Giving him money is like trying to kill him.' + The man had never, never in his life had more than a few centimes, thrown + to him by travellers, and he knew of no destination for this metal but the + wine shop. + </p> + <p> + “I spent several hours in my room with an open book before me which I + pretended to read, but in reality looking at this animal, my son! my son! + trying to discover if he looked anything like me. After careful scrutiny I + seemed to recognize a similarity in the lines of the forehead and the root + of the nose, and I was soon convinced that there was a resemblance, + concealed by the difference in garb and the man's hideous head of hair. + </p> + <p> + “I could not stay here any longer without arousing suspicion, and I went + away, my heart crushed, leaving with the innkeeper some money to soften + the existence of his servant. + </p> + <p> + “For six years now I have lived with this idea in my mind, this horrible + uncertainty, this abominable suspicion. And each year an irresistible + force takes me back to Pont Labbe. Every year I condemn myself to the + torture of seeing this animal raking the manure, imagining that he + resembles me, and endeavoring, always vainly, to render him some + assistance. And each year I return more uncertain, more tormented, more + worried. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to have him taught, but he is a hopeless idiot. I tried to make + his life less hard. He is an irreclaimable drunkard, and spends in drink + all the money one gives him, and knows enough to sell his new clothes in + order to get brandy. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to awaken his master's sympathy, so that he should look after + him, offering to pay him for doing so. The innkeeper, finally surprised, + said, very wisely: 'All that you do for him, monsieur, will only help to + destroy him. He must be kept like a prisoner. As soon as he has any spare + time, or any comfort, he becomes wicked. If you wish to do good, there is + no lack of abandoned children, but select one who will appreciate your + attention.' + </p> + <p> + “What could I say? + </p> + <p> + “If I allowed the slightest suspicion of the doubts that tortured me to + escape, this idiot would assuredly become cunning, in order to blackmail + me, to compromise me and ruin me. He would call out 'papa,' as in my + dream. + </p> + <p> + “And I said to myself that I had killed the mother and lost this atrophied + creature, this larva of the stable, born and raised amid the manure, this + man who, if brought up like others, would have been like others. + </p> + <p> + “And you cannot imagine what a strange, embarrassed and intolerable + feeling comes over me when he stands before me and I reflect that he came + from myself, that he belongs to me through the intimate bond that links + father and son, that, thanks to the terrible law of heredity, he is my own + self in a thousand ways, in his blood and his flesh, and that he has even + the same germs of disease, the same leaven of emotions. + </p> + <p> + “I have an incessant restless, distressing longing to see him, and the + sight of him causes me intense suffering, as I look down from my window + and watch him for hours removing and carting the horse manure, saying to + myself: 'That is my son.' + </p> + <p> + “And I sometimes feel an irresistible longing to embrace him. I have never + even touched his dirty hand.” + </p> + <p> + The academician was silent. His companion, a tactful man, murmured: “Yes, + indeed, we ought to take a closer interest in children who have no + father.” + </p> + <p> + A gust of wind passing through the tree shook its yellow clusters, + enveloping in a fragrant and delicate mist the two old men, who inhaled in + the fragrance with deep breaths. + </p> + <p> + The senator added: “It is good to be twenty-five and even to have children + like that.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THAT PIG OF A MORIN + </h2> + <p> + “Here, my friend,” I said to Labarbe, “you have just repeated those five + words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I never hear Morin's name + mentioned without his being called a pig?” + </p> + <p> + Labarbe, who is a deputy, looked at me with his owl-like eyes and said: + “Do you mean to say that you do not know Morin's story and you come from + La Rochelle?” I was obliged to declare that I did not know Morin's story, + so Labarbe rubbed his hands and began his recital. + </p> + <p> + “You knew Morin, did you not, and you remember his large linen-draper's + shop on the Quai de la Rochelle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then. You must know that in 1862 or '63 Morin went to spend a + fortnight in Paris for pleasure; or for his pleasures, but under the + pretext of renewing his stock, and you also know what a fortnight in Paris + means to a country shopkeeper; it fires his blood. The theatre every + evening, women's dresses rustling up against you and continual excitement; + one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in tights, + actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all nearly + within reach of one's hands, without daring, or being able, to touch them, + and one scarcely tastes food. When one leaves the city one's heart is + still all in a flutter and one's mind still exhilarated by a sort of + longing for kisses which tickles one's lips. + </p> + <p> + “Morin was in that condition when he took his ticket for La Rochelle by + the eight-forty night express. As he was walking up and down the + waiting-room at the station he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady + who was kissing an old one. She had her veil up, and Morin murmured with + delight: 'By Jove what a pretty woman!' + </p> + <p> + “When she had said 'good-by' to the old lady she went into the + waiting-room, and Morin followed her; then she went on the platform and + Morin still followed her; then she got into an empty carriage, and he + again followed her. There were very few travellers on the express. The + engine whistled and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured her + with his eyes. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty and was fair, + tall, with a bold look. She wrapped a railway rug round her and stretched + herself on the seat to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Morin asked himself: 'I wonder who she is?' And a thousand conjectures, a + thousand projects went through his head. He said to himself: 'So many + adventures are told as happening on railway journeys that this may be one + that is going to present itself to me. Who knows? A piece of good luck + like that happens very suddenly, and perhaps I need only be a little + venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: 'Audacity, more audacity and + always audacity'? If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does not + matter. But then I have no audacity, and that is the difficulty. Oh! If + one only knew, if one could only read people's minds! I will bet that + every day one passes by magnificent opportunities without knowing it, + though a gesture would be enough to let me know her mind.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he imagined to himself combinations which conducted him to triumph. + He pictured some chivalrous deed or merely some slight service which he + rendered her, a lively, gallant conversation which ended in a declaration. + </p> + <p> + “But he could find no opening, had no pretext, and he waited for some + fortunate circumstance, with his heart beating and his mind topsy-turvy. + The night passed and the pretty girl still slept, while Morin was + meditating his own fall. The day broke and soon the first ray of sunlight + appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face of the + sleeping girl and woke her. She sat up, looked at the country, then at + Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an engaging and + bright look, and Morin trembled. Certainly that smile was intended for + him; it was discreet invitation, the signal which he was waiting for. That + smile meant to say: 'How stupid, what a ninny, what a dolt, what a donkey + you are, to have sat there on your seat like a post all night! + </p> + <p> + “'Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the + whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great + simpleton!' + </p> + <p> + “She was still smiling as she looked at him; she even began to laugh; and + he lost his head trying to find something suitable to say, no matter what. + But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a coward's + courage, he said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “'So much the worse, I will risk everything,' and suddenly, without the + slightest warning, he went toward her, his arms extended, his lips + protruding, and, seizing her in his arms, he kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “She sprang up immediately with a bound, crying out: 'Help! help!' and + screaming with terror; and then she opened the carriage door and waved her + arm out, mad with terror and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was + almost distracted and feeling sure that she would throw herself out, held + her by the skirt and stammered: 'Oh, madame! oh, madame!' + </p> + <p> + “The train slackened speed and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the + young woman's frantic signals. She threw herself into their arms, + stammering: 'That man wanted—wanted—to—to—' And + then she fainted. + </p> + <p> + “They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin. When + the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her consciousness, + she made her charge against him, and the police drew it up. The poor linen + draper did not reach home till night, with a prosecution hanging over him + for an outrage to morals in a public place.” II + </p> + <p> + “At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet + Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure + he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not hide my + opinion from him, but said to him: 'You are no better than a pig. No + decent man behaves like that.' + </p> + <p> + “He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade + ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends + scandalized and taking no notice of him. In the end he excited my pity, + and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little + man, to give us his advice. + </p> + <p> + “He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine, and + so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate. He told me that + the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle Henriette + Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in Paris and + spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very respectable + tradespeople in Mauze. What made Morin's case all the more serious was + that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public official had + consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were withdrawn, so we + must try and get him to do this. + </p> + <p> + “I went back to Morin's and found him in bed, ill with excitement and + distress. His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him + continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me: 'So you have + come to see that pig of a Morin. Well, there he is, the darling!' And she + planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips. I told + him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl's uncle and + aunt. It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the poor devil + never ceased repeating: 'I assure you I did not even kiss her; no, not + even that. I will take my oath to it!' + </p> + <p> + “I replied: 'It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.' And I took a + thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I did + not care to venture to her uncle's house alone, I begged Rivet to go with + me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for he + had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon. So two hours later + we rang at the door of a pretty country house. An attractive girl came and + opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and I said to + Rivet in a low voice: 'Confound it! I begin to understand Morin!' + </p> + <p> + “The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent + political coreligionist of ours. He received us with open arms and + congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two + editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me: 'I think we shall be able + to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.' + </p> + <p> + “The niece had left the room and I introduced the delicate subject. I + waved the spectre of scandal before his eyes; I accentuated the inevitable + depreciation which the young lady would suffer if such an affair became + known, for nobody would believe in a simple kiss, and the good man seemed + undecided, but he could not make up his mind about anything without his + wife, who would not be in until late that evening. But suddenly he uttered + an exclamation of triumph: 'Look here, I have an excellent idea; I will + keep you here to dine and sleep, and when my wife comes home I hope we + shall be able to arrange matters: + </p> + <p> + “Rivet resisted at first, but the wish to extricate that pig of a Morin + decided him, and we accepted the invitation, and the uncle got up radiant, + called his niece and proposed that we should take a stroll in his grounds, + saying: 'We will leave serious matters until the morning.' Rivet and he + began to talk politics, while I soon found myself lagging a little behind + with 'the girl who was really charming—charming—and with the + greatest precaution I began to speak to her about her adventure and try to + make her my ally. She did not, however, appear the least confused, and + listened to me like a person who was enjoying the whole thing very much. + </p> + <p> + “I said to her: 'Just think, mademoiselle, how unpleasant it will be for + you. You will have to appear in court, to encounter malicious looks, to + speak before everybody and to recount that unfortunate occurrence in the + railway carriage in public. Do you not think, between ourselves, that it + would have been much better for you to have put that dirty scoundrel back + in his place without calling for assistance, and merely to change your + carriage?' She began to laugh and replied: 'What you say is quite true, + but what could I do? I was frightened, and when one is frightened one does + not stop to reason with one's self. As soon as I realized the situation I + was very sorry, that I had called out, but then it was too late. You must + also remember that the idiot threw himself upon me like a madman, without + saying a word and looking like a lunatic. I did not even know what he + wanted of me.' + </p> + <p> + “She looked me full in the face without being nervous or intimidated and I + said to myself: 'She is a queer sort of girl, that: I can quite see how + that pig Morin came to make a mistake,' and I went on jokingly: 'Come, + mademoiselle, confess that he was excusable, for, after all, a man cannot + find himself opposite such a pretty girl as you are without feeling a + natural desire to kiss her.' + </p> + <p> + “She laughed more than ever and showed her teeth and said: 'Between the + desire and the act, monsieur, there is room for respect.' It was an odd + expression to use, although it was not very clear, and I asked abruptly: + 'Well, now, suppose I were to kiss you, what would you do?' She stopped to + look at me from head to foot and then said calmly: 'Oh, you? That is quite + another matter.' + </p> + <p> + “I knew perfectly well, by Jove, that it was not the same thing at all, as + everybody in the neighborhood called me 'Handsome Labarbe'—I was + thirty years old in those days—but I asked her: 'And why, pray?' She + shrugged her shoulders and replied: 'Well! because you are not so stupid + as he is.' And then she added, looking at me slyly: 'Nor so ugly, either: + And before she could make a movement to avoid me I had implanted a hearty + kiss on her cheek. She sprang aside, but it was too late, and then she + said: 'Well, you are not very bashful, either! But don't do that sort of + thing again.' + </p> + <p> + “I put on a humble look and said in a low voice: 'Oh, mademoiselle! as for + me, if I long for one thing more than another it is to be summoned before + a magistrate for the same reason as Morin.' + </p> + <p> + “'Why?' she asked. And, looking steadily at her, I replied: 'Because you + are one of the most beautiful creatures living; because it would be an + honor and a glory for me to have wished to offer you violence, and because + people would have said, after seeing you: “Well, Labarbe has richly + deserved what he has got, but he is a lucky fellow, all the same.”' + </p> + <p> + “She began to laugh heartily again and said: 'How funny you are!' And she + had not finished the word 'funny' before I had her in my arms and was + kissing her ardently wherever I could find a place, on her forehead, on + her eyes, on her lips occasionally, on her cheeks, all over her head, some + part of which she was obliged to leave exposed, in spite of herself, to + defend the others; but at last she managed to release herself, blushing + and angry. 'You are very unmannerly, monsieur,' she said, 'and I am sorry + I listened to you.' + </p> + <p> + “I took her hand in some confusion and stammered out: 'I beg your pardon. + I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I have offended you; I have acted like a + brute! Do not be angry with me for what I have done. If you knew—' I + vainly sought for some excuse, and in a few moments she said: 'There is + nothing for me to know, monsieur.' But I had found something to say, and I + cried: 'Mademoiselle, I love you!' + </p> + <p> + “She was really surprised and raised her eyes to look at me, and I went + on: 'Yes, mademoiselle, and pray listen to me. I do not know Morin, and I + do not care anything about him. It does not matter to me the least if he + is committed for trial and locked up meanwhile. I saw you here last year, + and I was so taken with you that the thought of you has never left me + since, and it does not matter to me whether you believe me or not. I + thought you adorable, and the remembrance of you took such a hold on me + that I longed to see you again, and so I made use of that fool Morin as a + pretext, and here I am. Circumstances have made me exceed the due limits + of respect, and I can only beg you to pardon me.' + </p> + <p> + “She looked at me to see if I was in earnest and was ready to smile again. + Then she murmured: 'You humbug!' But I raised my hand and said in a + sincere voice (and I really believe that I was sincere): 'I swear to you + that I am speaking the truth,' and she replied quite simply: 'Don't talk + nonsense!' + </p> + <p> + “We were alone, quite alone, as Rivet and her uncle had disappeared down a + sidewalk, and I made her a real declaration of love, while I squeezed and + kissed her hands, and she listened to it as to something new and + agreeable, without exactly knowing how much of it she was to believe, + while in the end I felt agitated, and at last really myself believed what + I said. I was pale, anxious and trembling, and I gently put my arm round + her waist and spoke to her softly, whispering into the little curls over + her ears. She seemed in a trance, so absorbed in thought was she. + </p> + <p> + “Then her hand touched mine, and she pressed it, and I gently squeezed her + waist with a trembling, and gradually firmer, grasp. She did not move now, + and I touched her cheek with my lips, and suddenly without seeking them my + lips met hers. It was a long, long kiss, and it would have lasted longer + still if I had not heard a hm! hm! just behind me, at which she made her + escape through the bushes, and turning round I saw Rivet coming toward me, + and, standing in the middle of the path, he said without even smiling: 'So + that is the way you settle the affair of that pig of a Morin.' And I + replied conceitedly: 'One does what one can, my dear fellow. But what + about the uncle? How have you got on with him? I will answer for the + niece.' 'I have not been so fortunate with him,' he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Whereupon I took his arm and we went indoors.” III + </p> + <p> + “Dinner made me lose my head altogether. I sat beside her, and my hand + continually met hers under the tablecloth, my foot touched hers and our + glances met. + </p> + <p> + “After dinner we took a walk by moonlight, and I whispered all the tender + things I could think of to her. I held her close to me, kissed her every + moment, while her uncle and Rivet were arguing as they walked in front of + us. They went in, and soon a messenger brought a telegram from her aunt, + saying that she would not return until the next morning at seven o'clock + by the first train. + </p> + <p> + “'Very well, Henriette,' her uncle said, 'go and show the gentlemen their + rooms.' She showed Rivet his first, and he whispered to me: 'There was no + danger of her taking us into yours first.' Then she took me to my room, + and as soon as she was alone with me I took her in my arms again and tried + to arouse her emotion, but when she saw the danger she escaped out of the + room, and I retired very much put out and excited and feeling rather + foolish, for I knew that I should not sleep much, and I was wondering how + I could have committed such a mistake, when there was a gentle knock at my + door, and on my asking who was there a low voice replied: 'I.' + </p> + <p> + “I dressed myself quickly and opened the door, and she came in. 'I forgot + to ask you what you take in the morning,' she said; 'chocolate, tea or + coffee?' I put my arms round her impetuously and said, devouring her with + kisses: 'I will take—I will take—' + </p> + <p> + “But she freed herself from my arms, blew out my candle and disappeared + and left me alone in the dark, furious, trying to find some matches, and + not able to do so. At last I got some and I went into the passage, feeling + half mad, with my candlestick in my hand. + </p> + <p> + “What was I about to do? I did not stop to reason, I only wanted to find + her, and I would. I went a few steps without reflecting, but then I + suddenly thought: 'Suppose I should walk into the uncle's room what should + I say?' And I stood still, with my head a void and my heart beating. But + in a few moments I thought of an answer: 'Of course, I shall say that I + was looking for Rivet's room to speak to him about an important matter,' + and I began to inspect all the doors, trying to find hers, and at last I + took hold of a handle at a venture, turned it and went in. There was + Henriette, sitting on her bed and looking at me in tears. So I gently + turned the key, and going up to her on tiptoe I said: 'I forgot to ask you + for something to read, mademoiselle.' + </p> + <p> + “I was stealthily returning to my room when a rough hand seized me and a + voice—it was Rivet's—whispered in my ear: 'So you have not yet + quite settled that affair of Morin's?' + </p> + <p> + “At seven o'clock the next morning Henriette herself brought me a cup of + chocolate. I never have drunk anything like it, soft, velvety, perfumed, + delicious. I could hardly take away my lips from the cup, and she had + hardly left the room when Rivet came in. He seemed nervous and irritable, + like a man who had not slept, and he said to me crossly: + </p> + <p> + “'If you go on like this you will end by spoiling the affair of that pig + of a Morin!' + </p> + <p> + “At eight o'clock the aunt arrived. Our discussion was very short, for + they withdrew their complaint, and I left five hundred francs for the poor + of the town. They wanted to keep us for the day, and they arranged an + excursion to go and see some ruins. Henriette made signs to me to stay, + behind her parents' back, and I accepted, but Rivet was determined to go, + and though I took him aside and begged and prayed him to do this for me, + he appeared quite exasperated and kept saying to me: 'I have had enough of + that pig of a Morin's affair, do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + “Of course I was obliged to leave also, and it was one of the hardest + moments of my life. I could have gone on arranging that business as long + as I lived, and when we were in the railway carriage, after shaking hands + with her in silence, I said to Rivet: 'You are a mere brute!' And he + replied: 'My dear fellow, you were beginning to annoy me confoundedly.' + </p> + <p> + “On getting to the Fanal office, I saw a crowd waiting for us, and as soon + as they saw us they all exclaimed: 'Well, have you settled the affair of + that pig of a Morin?' All La Rochelle was excited about it, and Rivet, who + had got over his ill-humor on the journey, had great difficulty in keeping + himself from laughing as he said: 'Yes, we have managed it, thanks to + Labarbe: And we went to Morin's. + </p> + <p> + “He was sitting in an easy-chair with mustard plasters on his legs and + cold bandages on his head, nearly dead with misery. He was coughing with + the short cough of a dying man, without any one knowing how he had caught + it, and his wife looked at him like a tigress ready to eat him, and as + soon as he saw us he trembled so violently as to make his hands and knees + shake, so I said to him immediately: 'It is all settled, you dirty scamp, + but don't do such a thing again.' + </p> + <p> + “He got up, choking, took my hands and kissed them as if they had belonged + to a prince, cried, nearly fainted, embraced Rivet and even kissed Madame + Morin, who gave him such a push as to send him staggering back into his + chair; but he never got over the blow; his mind had been too much upset. + In all the country round, moreover, he was called nothing but 'that pig of + a Morin,' and that epithet went through him like a sword-thrust every time + he heard it. When a street boy called after him 'Pig!' he turned his head + instinctively. His friends also overwhelmed him with horrible jokes and + used to ask him, whenever they were eating ham, 'Is it a bit of yourself?' + He died two years later. + </p> + <p> + “As for myself, when I was a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies in + 1875, I called on the new notary at Fousserre, Monsieur Belloncle, to + solicit his vote, and a tall, handsome and evidently wealthy lady received + me. 'You do not know me again?' she said. And I stammered out: 'Why—no—madame.' + 'Henriette Bonnel.' 'Ah!' And I felt myself turning pale, while she seemed + perfectly at her ease and looked at me with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as she had left me alone with her husband he took both my hands, + and, squeezing them as if he meant to crush them, he said: 'I have been + intending to go and see you for a long time, my dear sir, for my wife has + very often talked to me about you. I know—yes, I know under what + painful circumstances you made her acquaintance, and I know also how + perfectly you behaved, how full of delicacy, tact and devotion you showed + yourself in the affair—' He hesitated and then said in a lower tone, + as if he had been saying something low and coarse, 'in the affair of that + pig of a Morin.'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAINT ANTHONY + </h2> + <p> + They called him Saint Anthony, because his name was Anthony, and also, + perhaps, because he was a good fellow, jovial, a lover of practical jokes, + a tremendous eater and a heavy drinker and a gay fellow, although he was + sixty years old. + </p> + <p> + He was a big peasant of the district of Caux, with a red face, large chest + and stomach, and perched on two legs that seemed too slight for the bulk + of his body. + </p> + <p> + He was a widower and lived alone with his two men servants and a maid on + his farm, which he conducted with shrewd economy. He was careful of his + own interests, understood business and the raising of cattle, and farming. + His two sons and his three daughters, who had married well, were living in + the neighborhood and came to dine with their father once a month. His + vigor of body was famous in all the countryside. “He is as strong as Saint + Anthony,” had become a kind of proverb. + </p> + <p> + At the time of the Prussian invasion Saint Anthony, at the wine shop, + promised to eat an army, for he was a braggart, like a true Norman, a bit + of a coward and a blusterer. He banged his fist on the wooden table, + making the cups and the brandy glasses dance, and cried with the assumed + wrath of a good fellow, with a flushed face and a sly look in his eye: “I + shall have to eat some of them, nom de Dieu!” He reckoned that the + Prussians would not come as far as Tanneville, but when he heard they were + at Rautot he never went out of the house, and constantly watched the road + from the little window of his kitchen, expecting at any moment to see the + bayonets go by. + </p> + <p> + One morning as he was eating his luncheon with the servants the door + opened and the mayor of the commune, Maitre Chicot, appeared, followed by + a soldier wearing a black copper-pointed helmet. Saint Anthony bounded to + his feet and his servants all looked at him, expecting to see him slash + the Prussian. But he merely shook hands with the mayor, who said: + </p> + <p> + “Here is one for you, Saint Anthony. They came last night. Don't do + anything foolish, above all things, for they talked of shooting and + burning everything if there is the slightest unpleasantness, I have given + you warning. Give him something to eat; he looks like a good fellow. + Good-day. I am going to call on the rest. There are enough for all.” And + he went out. + </p> + <p> + Father Anthony, who had turned pale, looked at the Prussian. He was a big, + young fellow with plump, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair, unshaven to his + cheek bones, who looked stupid, timid and good. The shrewd Norman read him + at once, and, reassured, he made him a sign to sit down. Then he said: + “Will you take some soup?” + </p> + <p> + The stranger did not understand. Anthony then became bolder, and pushing a + plateful of soup right under his nose, he said: “Here, swallow that, big + pig!” + </p> + <p> + The soldier answered “Ya,” and began to eat greedily, while the farmer, + triumphant, feeling he had regained his reputation, winked his eye at the + servants, who were making strange grimaces, what with their terror and + their desire to laugh. + </p> + <p> + When the Prussian had devoured his soup, Saint Anthony gave him another + plateful, which disappeared in like manner; but he flinched at the third + which the farmer tried to insist on his eating, saying: “Come, put that + into your stomach; 'twill fatten you or it is your own fault, eh, pig!” + </p> + <p> + The soldier, understanding only that they wanted to make him eat all his + soup, laughed in a contented manner, making a sign to show that he could + not hold any more. + </p> + <p> + Then Saint Anthony, become quite familiar, tapped him on the stomach, + saying: “My, there is plenty in my pig's belly!” But suddenly he began to + writhe with laughter, unable to speak. An idea had struck him which made + him choke with mirth. “That's it, that's it, Saint Anthony and his pig. + There's my pig!” And the three servants burst out laughing in their turn. + </p> + <p> + The old fellow was so pleased that he had the brandy brought in, good + stuff, 'fil en dix', and treated every one. They clinked glasses with the + Prussian, who clacked his tongue by way of flattery to show that he + enjoyed it. And Saint Anthony exclaimed in his face: “Eh, is not that + superfine? You don't get anything like that in your home, pig!” + </p> + <p> + From that time Father Anthony never went out without his Prussian. He had + got what he wanted. This was his vengeance, the vengeance of an old rogue. + And the whole countryside, which was in terror, laughed to split its sides + at Saint Anthony's joke. Truly, there was no one like him when it came to + humor. No one but he would have thought of a thing like that. He was a + born joker! + </p> + <p> + He went to see his neighbors every day, arm in arm with his German, whom + he introduced in a jovial manner, tapping him on the shoulder: “See, here + is my pig; look and see if he is not growing fat, the animal!” + </p> + <p> + And the peasants would beam with smiles. “He is so comical, that reckless + fellow, Antoine!” + </p> + <p> + “I will sell him to you, Cesaire, for three pistoles” (thirty francs). + </p> + <p> + “I will take him, Antoine, and I invite you to eat some black pudding.” + </p> + <p> + “What I want is his feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Feel his belly; you will see that it is all fat.” + </p> + <p> + And they all winked at each other, but dared not laugh too loud, for fear + the Prussian might finally suspect they were laughing at him. Anthony, + alone growing bolder every day, pinched his thighs, exclaiming, “Nothing + but fat”; tapped him on the back, shouting, “That is all bacon”; lifted + him up in his arms as an old Colossus that could have lifted an anvil, + declaring, “He weighs six hundred and no waste.” + </p> + <p> + He had got into the habit of making people offer his “pig” something to + eat wherever they went together. This was the chief pleasure, the great + diversion every day. “Give him whatever you please, he will swallow + everything.” And they offered the man bread and butter, potatoes, cold + meat, chitterlings, which caused the remark, “Some of your own, and choice + ones.” + </p> + <p> + The soldier, stupid and gentle, ate from politeness, charmed at these + attentions, making himself ill rather than refuse, and he was actually + growing fat and his uniform becoming tight for him. This delighted Saint + Anthony, who said: “You know, my pig, that we shall have to have another + cage made for you.” + </p> + <p> + They had, however, become the best friends in the world, and when the old + fellow went to attend to his business in the neighborhood the Prussian + accompanied him for the simple pleasure of being with him. + </p> + <p> + The weather was severe; it was freezing hard. The terrible winter of 1870 + seemed to bring all the scourges on France at one time. + </p> + <p> + Father Antoine, who made provision beforehand, and took advantage of every + opportunity, foreseeing that manure would be scarce for the spring + farming, bought from a neighbor who happened to be in need of money all + that he had, and it was agreed that he should go every evening with his + cart to get a load. + </p> + <p> + So every day at twilight he set out for the farm of Haules, half a league + distant, always accompanied by his “pig.” And each time it was a festival, + feeding the animal. All the neighbors ran over there as they would go to + high mass on Sunday. + </p> + <p> + But the soldier began to suspect something, be mistrustful, and when they + laughed too loud he would roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they + lighted up with anger. + </p> + <p> + One evening when he had eaten his fill he refused to swallow another + morsel, and attempted to rise to leave the table. But Saint Anthony + stopped him by a turn of the wrist and, placing his two powerful hands on + his shoulders, he sat him down again so roughly that the chair smashed + under him. + </p> + <p> + A wild burst of laughter broke forth, and Anthony, beaming, picked up his + pig, acted as though he were dressing his wounds, and exclaimed: “Since + you will not eat, you shall drink, nom de Dieu!” And they went to the wine + shop to get some brandy. + </p> + <p> + The soldier rolled his eyes, which had a wicked expression, but he drank, + nevertheless; he drank as long as they wanted him, and Saint Anthony held + his head to the great delight of his companions. + </p> + <p> + The Norman, red as a tomato, his eyes ablaze, filled up the glasses and + clinked, saying: “Here's to you!”. And the Prussian, without speaking a + word, poured down one after another glassfuls of cognac. + </p> + <p> + It was a contest, a battle, a revenge! Who would drink the most, nom d'un + nom! They could neither of them stand any more when the liter was emptied. + But neither was conquered. They were tied, that was all. They would have + to begin again the next day. + </p> + <p> + They went out staggering and started for home, walking beside the dung + cart which was drawn along slowly by two horses. + </p> + <p> + Snow began to fall and the moonless night was sadly lighted by this dead + whiteness on the plain. The men began to feel the cold, and this + aggravated their intoxication. Saint Anthony, annoyed at not being the + victor, amused himself by shoving his companion so as to make him fall + over into the ditch. The other would dodge backwards, and each time he did + he uttered some German expression in an angry tone, which made the peasant + roar with laughter. Finally the Prussian lost his temper, and just as + Anthony was rolling towards him he responded with such a terrific blow + with his fist that the Colossus staggered. + </p> + <p> + Then, excited by the brandy, the old man seized the pugilist round the + waist, shook him for a few moments as he would have done with a little + child, and pitched him at random to the other side of the road. Then, + satisfied with this piece of work, he crossed his arms and began to laugh + afresh. + </p> + <p> + But the soldier picked himself up in a hurry, his head bare, his helmet + having rolled off, and drawing his sword he rushed over to Father Anthony. + </p> + <p> + When he saw him coming the peasant seized his whip by the top of the + handle, his big holly wood whip, straight, strong and supple as the sinew + of an ox. + </p> + <p> + The Prussian approached, his head down, making a lunge with his sword, + sure of killing his adversary. But the old fellow, squarely hitting the + blade, the point of which would have pierced his stomach, turned it aside, + and with the butt end of the whip struck the soldier a sharp blow on the + temple and he fell to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Then he, gazed aghast, stupefied with amazement, at the body, twitching + convulsively at first and then lying prone and motionless. He bent over + it, turned it on its back, and gazed at it for some time. The man's eyes + were closed, and blood trickled from a wound at the side of his forehead. + Although it was dark, Father Anthony could distinguish the bloodstain on + the white snow. + </p> + <p> + He remained there, at his wit's end, while his cart continued slowly on + its way. + </p> + <p> + What was he to do? He would be shot! They would burn his farm, ruin his + district! What should he do? What should he do? How could he hide the + body, conceal the fact of his death, deceive the Prussians? He heard + voices in the distance, amid the utter stillness of the snow. All at once + he roused himself, and picking up the helmet he placed it on his victim's + head. Then, seizing him round the body, he lifted him up in his arms, and + thus running with him, he overtook his team, and threw the body on top of + the manure. Once in his own house he would think up some plan. + </p> + <p> + He walked slowly, racking his brain, but without result. He saw, he felt, + that he was lost. He entered his courtyard. A light was shining in one of + the attic windows; his maid was not asleep. He hastily backed his wagon to + the edge of the manure hollow. He thought that by overturning the manure + the body lying on top of it would fall into the ditch and be buried + beneath it, and he dumped the cart. + </p> + <p> + As he had foreseen, the man was buried beneath the manure. Anthony evened + it down with his fork, which he stuck in the ground beside it. He called + his stableman, told him to put up the horses, and went to his room. + </p> + <p> + He went to bed, still thinking of what he had best do, but no ideas came + to him. His apprehension increased in the quiet of his room. They would + shoot him! He was bathed in perspiration from fear, his teeth chattered, + he rose shivering, not being able to stay in bed. + </p> + <p> + He went downstairs to the kitchen, took the bottle of brandy from the + sideboard and carried it upstairs. He drank two large glasses, one after + another, adding a fresh intoxication to the late one, without quieting his + mental anguish. He had done a pretty stroke of work, nom de Dieu, idiot! + </p> + <p> + He paced up and down, trying to think of some stratagem, some + explanations, some cunning trick, and from time to time he rinsed his + mouth with a swallow of “fil en dix” to give him courage. + </p> + <p> + But no ideas came to him, not one. + </p> + <p> + Towards midnight his watch dog, a kind of cross wolf called “Devorant,” + began to howl frantically. Father Anthony shuddered to the marrow of his + bones, and each time the beast began his long and lugubrious wail the old + man's skin turned to goose flesh. + </p> + <p> + He had sunk into a chair, his legs weak, stupefied, done up, waiting + anxiously for “Devorant” to set up another howl, and starting convulsively + from nervousness caused by terror. + </p> + <p> + The clock downstairs struck five. The dog was still howling. The peasant + was almost insane. He rose to go and let the dog loose, so that he should + not hear him. He went downstairs, opened the hall door, and stepped out + into the darkness. The snow was still falling. The earth was all white, + the farm buildings standing out like black patches. He approached the + kennel. The dog was dragging at his chain. He unfastened it. “Devorant” + gave a bound, then stopped short, his hair bristling, his legs rigid, his + muzzle in the air, his nose pointed towards the manure heap. + </p> + <p> + Saint Anthony, trembling from head to foot, faltered: + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you, you dirty hound?” and he walked a few steps + forward, gazing at the indistinct outlines, the sombre shadow of the + courtyard. + </p> + <p> + Then he saw a form, the form of a man sitting on the manure heap! + </p> + <p> + He gazed at it, paralyzed by fear, and breathing hard. But all at once he + saw, close by, the handle of the manure fork which was sticking in the + ground. He snatched it up and in one of those transports of fear that will + make the greatest coward brave he rushed forward to see what it was. + </p> + <p> + It was he, his Prussian, come to life, covered with filth from his bed of + manure which had kept him warm. He had sat down mechanically, and remained + there in the snow which sprinkled down, all covered with dirt and blood as + he was, and still stupid from drinking, dazed by the blow and exhausted + from his wound. + </p> + <p> + He perceived Anthony, and too sodden to understand anything, he made an + attempt to rise. But the moment the old man recognized him, he foamed with + rage like a wild animal. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, pig! pig!” he sputtered. “You are not dead! You are going to denounce + me now—wait—wait!” + </p> + <p> + And rushing on the German with all the strength of leis arms he flung the + raised fork like a lance and buried the four prongs full length in his + breast. + </p> + <p> + The soldier fell over on his back, uttering a long death moan, while the + old peasant, drawing the fork out of his breast, plunged it over and over + again into his abdomen, his stomach, his throat, like a madman, piercing + the body from head to foot, as it still quivered, and the blood gushed out + in streams. + </p> + <p> + Finally he stopped, exhausted by his arduous work, swallowing great + mouthfuls of air, calmed down at the completion of the murder. + </p> + <p> + As the cocks were beginning to crow in the poultry yard and it was near + daybreak, he set to work to bury the man. + </p> + <p> + He dug a hole in the manure till he reached the earth, dug down further, + working wildly, in a frenzy of strength with frantic motions of his arms + and body. + </p> + <p> + When the pit was deep enough he rolled the corpse into it with the fork, + covered it with earth, which he stamped down for some time, and then put + back the manure, and he smiled as he saw the thick snow finishing his work + and covering up its traces with a white sheet. + </p> + <p> + He then stuck the fork in the manure and went into the house. His bottle, + still half full of brandy stood on the table. He emptied it at a draught, + threw himself on his bed and slept heavily. + </p> + <p> + He woke up sober, his mind calm and clear, capable of judgment and + thought. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour he was going about the country making inquiries + everywhere for his soldier. He went to see the Prussian officer to find + out why they had taken away his man. + </p> + <p> + As everyone knew what good friends they were, no one suspected him. He + even directed the research, declaring that the Prussian went to see the + girls every evening. + </p> + <p> + An old retired gendarme who had an inn in the next village, and a pretty + daughter, was arrested and shot. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LASTING LOVE + </h2> + <p> + It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The Marquis + de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, covered + with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. Immediately + there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal discussion as to + whether it were possible to love more than once. Examples were given of + persons who had loved once; these were offset by those who had loved + violently many times. The men agreed that passion, like sickness, may + attack the same person several times, unless it strikes to kill. This + conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, however, who based their + opinion on poetry rather than on practical observation, maintained that + love, the great passion, may come only once to mortals. It resembles + lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes + forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other strong + sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had + indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and + soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, + to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had + not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a + second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, + and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once + indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament.” + </p> + <p> + They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had + said, a thing of temperament. + </p> + <p> + “As for me,” he said, “I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five years + without one day's respite, and which ended only with death.” The wife of + the marquis clasped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What bliss + to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering + affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so + adored!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You + even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you + also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau.” + The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with + “Pouah!” for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor + continued: “Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old + chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the + executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she + told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her + father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a house. + As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. + They visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just outside + the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her parents + had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except + to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!' + </p> + <p> + “When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by the + harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of affection. + When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken chairs. Then it + was she made friends with the children in the street, but their parents + always called them away and scolded them for speaking to the barefooted + child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a kind woman gave her a + few pennies. She saved them most carefully. + </p> + <p> + “One day—she was then eleven years old—as she was walking + through a country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, + weeping bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious + liards (mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied + mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. She + approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, she put + into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation and dried + his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting his money, + and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she threw her arms + round him and gave him a hug—then she ran away. + </p> + <p> + “What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had + sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, + or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery is + alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she dreamed of + that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. She stole a sou here + and, there from her parents on the chair money or groceries she was sent + to buy. When she returned to the spot near the cemetery she had two francs + in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing his father's drug store, she + caught sight of him behind the counter. He was sitting between a large red + globe and a blue one. She only loved him the more, quite carried away at + the sight of the brilliant-colored globes. She cherished the recollection + of it forever in her heart. The following year she met him near the school + playing marbles. She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and + kissed him so passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she + gave him all her money. Three francs and twenty centimes! A real gold + mine, at which he gazed with staring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the + next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed + conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sous, at + another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with grief + and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The next time + she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her laugh with + joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he watched for her + with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. This made her heart + thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had gone to boarding school. + She found this out by careful investigation. Then she used great diplomacy + to persuade her parents to change their route and pass by this way again + during vacation. After a year of scheming she succeeded. She had not seen + him for two years, and scarcely recognized him, he was so changed, had + grown taller, better looking and was imposing in his uniform, with its + brass buttons. He pretended not to see her, and passed by without a + glance. She wept for two days and from that time loved and suffered + unceasingly. + </p> + <p> + “Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. + He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, + hopelessly. She said to me: + </p> + <p> + “'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another + exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work. + </p> + <p> + “One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she + saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his + arm. She was his wife. That night the chair-mender threw herself into the + river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to the drug + store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive her. + Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed her; then + he said to her, in a harsh voice: + </p> + <p> + “'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice + brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a long + time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she insisted. + </p> + <p> + “All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. She + began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to talk to + him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to give him + money. + </p> + <p> + “As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her pathetic + story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she loved. She had + worked only that she might leave him something to remind him of her after + her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her funeral expenses. The + next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They were finishing breakfast, + sitting opposite each other, fat and red, important and self-satisfied. + They welcomed me and offered me some coffee, which I accepted. Then I + began my story in a trembling voice, sure that they would be softened, + even to tears. As soon as Chouquet understood that he had been loved by + 'that vagabond! that chair-mender! that wanderer!' he swore with + indignation as though his reputation had been sullied, the respect of + decent people lost, his personal honor, something precious and dearer to + him than life, gone. His exasperated wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! + That beggar!' + </p> + <p> + “Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and + began striding about. He muttered: 'Can you understand anything so + horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I should + have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have + escaped.' + </p> + <p> + “I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to finish + my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her savings, which + amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I have just told you + seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would prefer to give this money + to the poor.' + </p> + <p> + “They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. I took + the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking money from + every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. Then I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What is your decision?' + </p> + <p> + “Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, + it seems to me impossible to refuse it.' + </p> + <p> + “Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for our + children with it.' + </p> + <p> + “I answered dryly: 'As you wish.' + </p> + <p> + “He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to do + so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.' + </p> + <p> + “I gave them the money, bowed and left. + </p> + <p> + “The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely: + </p> + <p> + “'That woman left her wagon here—what have you done with it?' + </p> + <p> + “'Nothing; take it if you wish.' + </p> + <p> + “'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back + and said: + </p> + <p> + “'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?' + </p> + <p> + “He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with them?' + </p> + <p> + “'Dispose of them as you like.' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? The + doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. I have + kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is useful to + Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. That is the + only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, sighed + and said: + </p> + <p> + “There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PIERROT + </h2> + <p> + Mme. Lefevre was a country dame, a widow, one of these half peasants, with + ribbons and bonnets with trimming on them, one of those persons who + clipped her words and put on great airs in public, concealing the soul of + a pretentious animal beneath a comical and bedizened exterior, just as the + country-folks hide their coarse red hands in ecru silk gloves. + </p> + <p> + She had a servant, a good simple peasant, called Rose. + </p> + <p> + The two women lived in a little house with green shutters by the side of + the high road in Normandy, in the centre of the country of Caux. As they + had a narrow strip of garden in front of the house, they grew some + vegetables. + </p> + <p> + One night someone stole twelve onions. As soon as Rose became aware of the + theft, she ran to tell madame, who came downstairs in her woolen + petticoat. It was a shame and a disgrace! They had robbed her, Mme. + Lefevre! As there were thieves in the country, they might come back. + </p> + <p> + And the two frightened women examined the foot tracks, talking, and + supposing all sorts of things. + </p> + <p> + “See, they went that way! They stepped on the wall, they jumped into the + garden!” + </p> + <p> + And they became apprehensive for the future. How could they sleep in peace + now! + </p> + <p> + The news of the theft spread. The neighbors came, making examinations and + discussing the matter in their turn, while the two women explained to each + newcomer what they had observed and their opinion. + </p> + <p> + A farmer who lived near said to them: + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have a dog.” + </p> + <p> + That is true, they ought to have a dog, if it were only to give the alarm. + Not a big dog. Heavens! what would they do with a big dog? He would eat + their heads off. But a little dog (in Normandy they say “quin”), a little + puppy who would bark. + </p> + <p> + As soon as everyone had left, Mme. Lefevre discussed this idea of a dog + for some time. On reflection she made a thousand objections, terrified at + the idea of a bowl full of soup, for she belonged to that race of + parsimonious country women who always carry centimes in their pocket to + give alms in public to beggars on the road and to put in the Sunday + collection plate. + </p> + <p> + Rose, who loved animals, gave her opinion and defended it shrewdly. So it + was decided that they should have a dog, a very small dog. + </p> + <p> + They began to look for one, but could find nothing but big dogs, who would + devour enough soup to make one shudder. The grocer of Rolleville had one, + a tiny one, but he demanded two francs to cover the cost of sending it. + Mme. Lefevre declared that she would feed a “quin,” but would not buy one. + </p> + <p> + The baker, who knew all that occurred, brought in his wagon one morning a + strange little yellow animal, almost without paws, with the body of a + crocodile, the head of a fox, and a curly tail—a true cockade, as + big as all the rest of him. Mme. Lefevre thought this common cur that cost + nothing was very handsome. Rose hugged it and asked what its name was. + </p> + <p> + “Pierrot,” replied the baker. + </p> + <p> + The dog was installed in an old soap box and they gave it some water which + it drank. They then offered it a piece of bread. He ate it. Mme. Lefevre, + uneasy, had an idea. + </p> + <p> + “When he is thoroughly accustomed to the house we can let him run. He can + find something to eat, roaming about the country.” + </p> + <p> + They let him run, in fact, which did not prevent him from being famished. + Also he never barked except to beg for food, and then he barked furiously. + </p> + <p> + Anyone might come into the garden, and Pierrot would run up and fawn on + each one in turn and not utter a bark. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Lefevre, however, had become accustomed to the animal. She even went + so far as to like it and to give it from time to time pieces of bread + soaked in the gravy on her plate. + </p> + <p> + But she had not once thought of the dog tax, and when they came to collect + eight francs—eight francs, madame—for this puppy who never + even barked, she almost fainted from the shock. + </p> + <p> + It was immediately decided that they must get rid of Pierrot. No one + wanted him. Every one declined to take him for ten leagues around. Then + they resolved, not knowing what else to do, to make him “piquer du mas.” + </p> + <p> + “Piquer du mas” means to eat chalk. When one wants to get rid of a dog + they make him “Piquer du mas.” + </p> + <p> + In the midst of an immense plain one sees a kind of hut, or rather a very + small roof standing above the ground. This is the entrance to the clay + pit. A big perpendicular hole is sunk for twenty metres underground and + ends in a series of long subterranean tunnels. + </p> + <p> + Once a year they go down into the quarry at the time they fertilize the + ground. The rest of the year it serves as a cemetery for condemned dogs, + and as one passed by this hole plaintive howls, furious or despairing + barks and lamentable appeals reach one's ear. + </p> + <p> + Sportsmen's dogs and sheep dogs flee in terror from this mournful place, + and when one leans over it one perceives a disgusting odor of + putrefaction. + </p> + <p> + Frightful dramas are enacted in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + When an animal has suffered down there for ten or twelve days, nourished + on the foul remains of his predecessors, another animal, larger and more + vigorous, is thrown into the hole. There they are, alone, starving, with + glittering eyes. They watch each other, follow each other, hesitate in + doubt. But hunger impels them; they attack each other, fight desperately + for some time, and the stronger eats the weaker, devours him alive. + </p> + <p> + When it was decided to make Pierrot “piquer du mas” they looked round for + an executioner. The laborer who mended the road demanded six sous to take + the dog there. That seemed wildly exorbitant to Mme. Lefevre. The + neighbor's hired boy wanted five sous; that was still too much. So Rose + having observed that they had better carry it there themselves, as in that + way it would not be brutally treated on the way and made to suspect its + fate, they resolved to go together at twilight. + </p> + <p> + They offered the dog that evening a good dish of soup with a piece of + butter in it. He swallowed every morsel of it, and as he wagged his tail + with delight Rose put him in her apron. + </p> + <p> + They walked quickly, like thieves, across the plain. They soon perceived + the chalk pit and walked up to it. Mme. Lefevre leaned over to hear if any + animal was moaning. No, there were none there; Pierrot would be alone. + Then Rose, who was crying, kissed the dog and threw him into the chalk + pit, and they both leaned over, listening. + </p> + <p> + First they heard a dull sound, then the sharp, bitter, distracting cry of + an animal in pain, then a succession of little mournful cries, then + despairing appeals, the cries of a dog who is entreating, his head raised + toward the opening of the pit. + </p> + <p> + He yelped, oh, how he yelped! + </p> + <p> + They were filled with remorse, with terror, with a wild inexplicable fear, + and ran away from the spot. As Rose went faster Mme. Lefevre cried: “Wait + for me, Rose, wait for me!” + </p> + <p> + At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but + when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it. He jumped out and bit her + nose. + </p> + <p> + She awoke and thought she heard him yelping still. She listened, but she + was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + She fell asleep again and found herself on a high road, an endless road, + which she followed. Suddenly in the middle of the road she perceived a + basket, a large farmer's basket, lying there, and this basket frightened + her. + </p> + <p> + She ended by opening it, and Pierrot, concealed in it, seized her hand and + would not let go. She ran away in terror with the dog hanging to the end + of her arm, which he held between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + At daybreak she arose, almost beside herself, and ran to the chalk pit. + </p> + <p> + He was yelping, yelping still; he had yelped all night. She began to sob + and called him by all sorts of endearing names. He answered her with all + the tender inflections of his dog's voice. + </p> + <p> + Then she wanted to see him again, promising herself that she would give + him a good home till he died. + </p> + <p> + She ran to the chalk digger, whose business it was to excavate for chalk, + and told him the situation. The man listened, but said nothing. When she + had finished he said: + </p> + <p> + “You want your dog? That will cost four francs.” She gave a jump. All her + grief was at an end at once. + </p> + <p> + “Four francs!” she said. “You would die of it! Four francs!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose I am going to bring my ropes, my windlass, and set it up, + and go down there with my boy and let myself be bitten, perhaps, by your + cursed dog for the pleasure of giving it back to you? You should not have + thrown it down there.” + </p> + <p> + She walked away, indignant. Four francs! + </p> + <p> + As soon as she entered the house she called Rose and told her of the + quarryman's charges. Rose, always resigned, repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Four francs! That is a good deal of money, madame.” Then she added: “If + we could throw him something to eat, the poor dog, so he will not die of + hunger.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Lefevre approved of this and was quite delighted. So they set out + again with a big piece of bread and butter. + </p> + <p> + They cut it in mouthfuls, which they threw down one after the other, + speaking by turns to Pierrot. As soon as the dog finished one piece he + yelped for the next. + </p> + <p> + They returned that evening and the next day and every day. But they made + only one trip. + </p> + <p> + One morning as they were just letting fall the first mouthful they + suddenly heard a tremendous barking in the pit. There were two dogs there. + Another had been thrown in, a large dog. + </p> + <p> + “Pierrot!” cried Rose. And Pierrot yelped and yelped. Then they began to + throw down some food. But each time they noticed distinctly a terrible + struggle going on, then plaintive cries from Pierrot, who had been bitten + by his companion, who ate up everything as he was the stronger. + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that they specified, saying: + </p> + <p> + “That is for you, Pierrot.” Pierrot evidently got nothing. + </p> + <p> + The two women, dumfounded, looked at each other and Mme. Lefevre said in a + sour tone: + </p> + <p> + “I could not feed all the dogs they throw in there! We must give it up.” + </p> + <p> + And, suffocating at the thought of all the dogs living at her expense, she + went away, even carrying back what remained of the bread, which she ate as + she walked along. + </p> + <p> + Rose followed her, wiping her eyes on the corner of her blue apron. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A NORMANDY JOKE + </h2> + <p> + It was a wedding procession that was coming along the road between the + tall trees that bounded the farms and cast their shadow on the road. At + the head were the bride and groom, then the family, then the invited + guests, and last of all the poor of the neighborhood. The village urchins + who hovered about the narrow road like flies ran in and out of the ranks + or climbed up the trees to see it better. + </p> + <p> + The bridegroom was a good-looking young fellow, Jean Patu, the richest + farmer in the neighborhood, but he was, above all things, an ardent + sportsman who seemed to take leave of his senses in order to satisfy that + passion, and who spent large sums on his dogs, his keepers, his ferrets + and his guns. The bride, Rosalie Roussel, had been courted by all the + likely young fellows in the district, for they all thought her handsome + and they knew that she would have a good dowry. But she had chosen Patu; + partly, perhaps, because she liked him better than she did the others, but + still more, like a careful Normandy girl, because he had more crown + pieces. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the white gateway of the husband's farm, forty shots + resounded without their seeing those who fired, as they were hidden in the + ditches. The noise seemed to please the men, who were slouching along + heavily in their best clothes, and Patu left his wife, and running up to a + farm servant whom he perceived behind a tree, took his gun and fired a + shot himself, as frisky as a young colt. Then they went on, beneath the + apple trees which were heavy with fruit, through the high grass and + through the midst of the calves, who looked at them with their great eyes, + got up slowly and remained standing, with their muzzles turned toward the + wedding party. + </p> + <p> + The men became serious when they came within measurable distance of the + wedding dinner. Some of them, the rich ones, had on tall, shining silk + hats, which seemed altogether out of place there; others had old + head-coverings with a long nap, which might have been taken for moleskin, + while the humblest among them wore caps. All the women had on shawls, + which they wore loosely on their back, holding the tips ceremoniously + under their arms. They were red, parti-colored, flaming shawls, and their + brightness seemed to astonish the black fowls on the dung-heap, the ducks + on the side of the pond and the pigeons on the thatched roofs. + </p> + <p> + The extensive farm buildings seemed to be waiting there at the end of that + archway of apple trees, and a sort of vapor came out of open door and + windows and an almost overpowering odor of eatables was exhaled from the + vast building, from all its openings and from its very walls. The string + of guests extended through the yard; but when the foremost of them reached + the house, they broke the chain and dispersed, while those behind were + still coming in at the open gate. The ditches were now lined with urchins + and curious poor people, and the firing did not cease, but came from every + side at once, and a cloud of smoke, and that odor which has the same + intoxicating effect as absinthe, blended with the atmosphere. The women + were shaking their dresses outside the door, to get rid of the dust, were + undoing their cap-strings and pulling their shawls over their arms, and + then they went into the house to lay them aside altogether for the time. + The table was laid in the great kitchen that would hold a hundred persons; + they sat down to dinner at two o'clock; and at eight o'clock they were + still eating, and the men, in their shirt-sleeves, with their waistcoats + unbuttoned and with red faces, were swallowing down the food and drink as + if they had been whirlpools. The cider sparkled merrily, clear and golden + in the large glasses, by the side of the dark, blood-colored wine, and + between every dish they made a “hole,” the Normandy hole, with a glass of + brandy which inflamed the body and put foolish notions into the head. Low + jokes were exchanged across the table until the whole arsenal of peasant + wit was exhausted. For the last hundred years the same broad stories had + served for similar occasions, and, although every one knew them, they + still hit the mark and made both rows of guests roar with laughter. + </p> + <p> + At one end of the table four young fellows, who were neighbors, were + preparing some practical jokes for the newly married couple, and they + seemed to have got hold of a good one by the way they whispered and + laughed, and suddenly one of them, profiting by a moment of silence, + exclaimed: “The poachers will have a good time to-night, with this moon! I + say, Jean, you will not be looking at the moon, will you?” The bridegroom + turned to him quickly and replied: “Only let them come, that's all!” But + the other young fellow began to laugh, and said: “I do not think you will + pay much attention to them!” + </p> + <p> + The whole table was convulsed with laughter, so that the glasses shook, + but the bridegroom became furious at the thought that anybody would profit + by his wedding to come and poach on his land, and repeated: “I only + say-just let them come!” + </p> + <p> + Then there was a flood of talk with a double meaning which made the bride + blush somewhat, although she was trembling with expectation; and when they + had emptied the kegs of brandy they all went to bed. The young couple went + into their own room, which was on the ground floor, as most rooms in + farmhouses are. As it was very warm, they opened the window and closed the + shutters. A small lamp in bad taste, a present from the bride's father, + was burning on the chest of drawers, and the bed stood ready to receive + the young people. + </p> + <p> + The young woman had already taken off her wreath and her dress, and she + was in her petticoat, unlacing her boots, while Jean was finishing his + cigar and looking at her out of the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, with a + brusque movement, like a man who is about to set to work, he took off his + coat. She had already taken off her boots, and was now pulling off her + stockings, and then she said to him: “Go and hide yourself behind the + curtains while I get into bed.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed as if he were about to refuse; but at last he did as she asked + him, and in a moment she unfastened her petticoat, which slipped down, + fell at her feet and lay on the ground. She left it there, stepped over it + in her loose chemise and slipped into the bed, whose springs creaked + beneath her weight. He immediately went up to the bed, and, stooping over + his wife, he sought her lips, which she hid beneath the pillow, when a + shot was heard in the distance, in the direction of the forest of Rapees, + as he thought. + </p> + <p> + He raised himself anxiously, with his heart beating, and running to the + window, he opened the shutters. The full moon flooded the yard with yellow + light, and the reflection of the apple trees made black shadows at their + feet, while in the distance the fields gleamed, covered with the ripe + corn. But as he was leaning out, listening to every sound in the still + night, two bare arms were put round his neck, and his wife whispered, + trying to pull him back: “Do leave them alone; it has nothing to do with + you. Come to bed.” + </p> + <p> + He turned round, put his arms round her, and drew her toward him, but just + as he was laying her on the bed, which yielded beneath her weight, they + heard another report, considerably nearer this time, and Jean, giving way + to his tumultuous rage, swore aloud: “Damn it! They will think I do not go + out and see what it is because of you! Wait, wait a few minutes!” He put + on his shoes again, took down his gun, which was always hanging within + reach against the wall, and, as his wife threw herself on her knees in her + terror, imploring him not to go, he hastily freed himself, ran to the + window and jumped into the yard. + </p> + <p> + She waited one hour, two hours, until daybreak, but her husband did not + return. Then she lost her head, aroused the house, related how angry Jean + was, and said that he had gone after the poachers, and immediately all the + male farm-servants, even the boys, went in search of their master. They + found him two leagues from the farm, tied hand and foot, half dead with + rage, his gun broken, his trousers turned inside out, and with three dead + hares hanging round his neck, and a placard on his chest with these words: + “Who goes on the chase loses his place.” + </p> + <p> + In later years, when he used to tell this story of his wedding night, he + usually added: “Ah! as far as a joke went it was a good joke. They caught + me in a snare, as if I had been a rabbit, the dirty brutes, and they + shoved my head into a bag. But if I can only catch them some day they had + better look out for themselves!” + </p> + <p> + That is how they amuse themselves in Normandy on a wedding day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FATHER MATTHEW + </h2> + <p> + We had just left Rouen and were galloping along the road to Jumieges. The + light carriage flew along across the level country. Presently the horse + slackened his pace to walk up the hill of Cantelen. + </p> + <p> + One sees there one of the most magnificent views in the world. Behind us + lay Rouen, the city of churches, with its Gothic belfries, sculptured like + ivory trinkets; before us Saint Sever, the manufacturing suburb, whose + thousands of smoking chimneys rise amid the expanse of sky, opposite the + thousand sacred steeples of the old city. + </p> + <p> + On the one hand the spire of the cathedral, the highest of human + monuments, on the other the engine of the power-house, its rival, and + almost as high, and a metre higher than the tallest pyramid in Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Before us wound the Seine, with its scattered islands and bordered by + white banks, covered with a forest on the right and on the left immense + meadows, bounded by another forest yonder in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Here and there large ships lay at anchor along the banks of the wide + river. Three enormous steam boats were starting out, one behind the other, + for Havre, and a chain of boats, a bark, two schooners and a brig, were + going upstream to Rouen, drawn by a little tug that emitted a cloud of + black smoke. + </p> + <p> + My companion, a native of the country, did not glance at this wonderful + landscape, but he smiled continually; he seemed to be amused at his + thoughts. Suddenly he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you will soon see something comical—Father Matthew's chapel. + That is a sweet morsel, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him in surprise. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “I will give you a whiff of Normandy that will stay by you. Father Matthew + is the handsomest Norman in the province and his chapel is one of the + wonders of the world, nothing more nor less. But I will first give you a + few words of explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Father Matthew, who is also called Father 'La Boisson,' is an old + sergeant-major who has come back to his native land. He combines in + admirable proportions, making a perfect whole, the humbug of the old + soldier and the sly roguery of the Norman. On his return to Normandy, + thanks to influence and incredible cleverness, he was made doorkeeper of a + votive chapel, a chapel dedicated to the Virgin and frequented chiefly by + young women who have gone astray.... He composed and had painted a special + prayer to his 'Good Virgin.' This prayer is a masterpiece of unintentional + irony, of Norman wit, in which jest is blended with fear of the saint and + with the superstitious fear of the secret influence of something. He has + not much faith in his protectress, but he believes in her a little through + prudence, and he is considerate of her through policy. + </p> + <p> + “This is how this wonderful prayer begins: + </p> + <p> + “'Our good Madame Virgin Mary, natural protectress of girl mothers in this + land and all over the world, protect your servant who erred in a moment of + forgetfulness...' + </p> + <p> + “It ends thus: + </p> + <p> + “'Do not forget me, especially when you are with your holy spouse, and + intercede with God the Father that he may grant me a good husband, like + your own.' + </p> + <p> + “This prayer, which was suppressed by the clergy of the district, is sold + by him privately, and is said to be very efficacious for those who recite + it with unction. + </p> + <p> + “In fact he talks of the good Virgin as the valet de chambre of a + redoubted prince might talk of his master who confided in him all his + little private secrets. He knows a number of amusing anecdotes at his + expense which he tells confidentially among friends as they sit over their + glasses. + </p> + <p> + “But you will see for yourself. + </p> + <p> + “As the fees coming from the Virgin did not appear sufficient to him, he + added to the main figure a little business in saints. He has them all, or + nearly all. There was not room enough in the chapel, so he stored them in + the wood-shed and brings them forth as soon as the faithful ask for them. + He carved these little wooden statues himself—they are comical in + the extreme—and painted them all bright green one year when they + were painting his house. You know that saints cure diseases, but each + saint has his specialty, and you must not confound them or make any + blunders. They are as jealous of each other as mountebanks. + </p> + <p> + “In order that they may make no mistake, the old women come and consult + Matthew. + </p> + <p> + “'For diseases of the ear which saint is the best?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, Saint Osyme is good and Saint Pamphilius is not bad.' But that is + not all. + </p> + <p> + “As Matthew has some time to spare, he drinks; but he drinks like a + professional, with conviction, so much so that he is intoxicated regularly + every evening. He is drunk, but he is aware of it. He is so well aware of + it that he notices each day his exact degree of intoxication. That is his + chief occupation; the chapel is a secondary matter. + </p> + <p> + “And he has invented—listen and catch on—he has invented the + 'Saoulometre.' + </p> + <p> + “There is no such instrument, but Matthew's observations are as precise as + those of a mathematician. You may hear him repeating incessantly: 'Since + Monday I have had more than forty-five,' or else 'I was between fifty-two + and fifty-eight,' or else 'I had at least sixty-six to seventy,' or + 'Hullo, cheat, I thought I was in the fifties and here I find I had had + seventy-five!' + </p> + <p> + “He never makes a mistake. + </p> + <p> + “He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that + his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot + depend absolutely on the truth of that statement. + </p> + <p> + “When Matthew acknowledges that he has passed ninety, you may rest assured + that he is blind drunk. + </p> + <p> + “On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury. + She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at + him: + </p> + <p> + “'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot!' + </p> + <p> + “Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite her + and says in a severe tone: + </p> + <p> + “'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + “If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky + voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Don't bawl any more. I have had about ninety; I am not counting any + more. Look out, I am going to hit you!' + </p> + <p> + “Then Melie beats a retreat. + </p> + <p> + “If, on the following day, she reverts to the subject, he laughs in her + face and says: + </p> + <p> + “'Come, come! We have said enough. It is past. As long as I have not + reached my limit there is no harm done. But if I go past that, I will + allow you to correct me, my word on it!'” + </p> + <p> + We had reached the top of the hill. The road entered the delightful forest + of Roumare. + </p> + <p> + Autumn, marvellous autumn, blended its gold and purple with the remaining + traces of verdure. We passed through Duclair. Then, instead of going on to + Jumieges, my friend turned to the left and, taking a crosscut, drove in + among the trees. + </p> + <p> + And presently from the top of a high hill we saw again the magnificent + valley of the Seine and the winding river beneath us. + </p> + <p> + At our right a very small slate-covered building, with a bell tower as + large as a sunshade, adjoined a pretty house with green Venetian blinds, + and all covered with honeysuckle and roses. + </p> + <p> + “Here are some friends!” cried a big voice, and Matthew appeared on the + threshold. He was a man about sixty, thin and with a goatee and long, + white mustache. + </p> + <p> + My friend shook him by the hand and introduced me, and Matthew took us + into a clean kitchen, which served also as a dining-room. He said: + </p> + <p> + “I have no elegant apartment, monsieur. I do not like to get too far away + from the food. The saucepans, you see, keep me company.” Then, turning to + my friend: + </p> + <p> + “Why did you come on Thursday? You know quite well that this is the day I + consult my Guardian Saint. I cannot go out this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + And running to the door, he uttered a terrific roar: “Melie!” which must + have startled the sailors in the ships along the stream in the valley + below. + </p> + <p> + Melie did not reply. + </p> + <p> + Then Matthew winked his eye knowingly. + </p> + <p> + “She is not pleased with me, you see, because yesterday I was in the + nineties.” + </p> + <p> + My friend began to laugh. “In the nineties, Matthew! How did you manage + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you,” said Matthew. “Last year I found only twenty rasieres + (an old dry measure) of apricots. There are no more, but those are the + only things to make cider of. So I made some, and yesterday I tapped the + barrel. Talk of nectar! That was nectar. You shall tell me what you think + of it. Polyte was here, and we sat down and drank a glass and another + without being satisfied (one could go on drinking it until to-morrow), and + at last, with glass after glass, I felt a chill at my stomach. I said to + Polyte: 'Supposing we drink a glass of cognac to warm ourselves?' He + agreed. But this cognac, it sets you on fire, so that we had to go back to + the cider. But by going from chills to heat and heat to chills, I saw that + I was in the nineties. Polyte was not far from his limit.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Melie appeared. At once, before bidding us good-day, + she cried: + </p> + <p> + “Great hog, you have both of you reached your limit!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that, Melie; don't say that,” said Matthew, getting angry. “I + have never reached my limit.” + </p> + <p> + They gave us a delicious luncheon outside beneath two lime trees, beside + the little chapel and overlooking the vast landscape. And Matthew told us, + with a mixture of humor and unexpected credulity, incredible stories of + miracles. + </p> + <p> + We had drunk a good deal of delicious cider, sparkling and sweet, fresh + and intoxicating, which he preferred to all other drinks, and were smoking + our pipes astride our chairs when two women appeared. + </p> + <p> + They were old, dried up and bent. After greeting us they asked for Saint + Blanc. Matthew winked at us as he replied: + </p> + <p> + “I will get him for you.” And he disappeared in his wood shed. He remained + there fully five minutes. Then he came back with an expression of + consternation. He raised his hands. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know where he is. I cannot find him. I am quite sure that I had + him.” Then making a speaking trumpet of his hands, he roared once more: + </p> + <p> + “Meli-e-a!” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” replied his wife from the end of the garden. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Saint Blanc? I cannot find him in the wood shed.” + </p> + <p> + Then Melie explained it this way: + </p> + <p> + “Was not that the one you took last week to stop up a hole in the rabbit + hutch?” + </p> + <p> + Matthew gave a start. + </p> + <p> + “By thunder, that may be!” Then turning to the women, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Follow me.” + </p> + <p> + They followed him. We did the same, almost choking with suppressed + laughter. + </p> + <p> + Saint Blanc was indeed stuck into the earth like an ordinary stake, + covered with mud and dirt, and forming a corner for the rabbit hutch. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they perceived him, the two women fell on their knees, crossed + themselves and began to murmur an “Oremus.” But Matthew darted toward + them. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” he said, “you are in the mud; I will get you a bundle of straw.” + </p> + <p> + He went to fetch the straw and made them a priedieu. Then, looking at his + muddy saint and doubtless afraid of bringing discredit on his business, he + added: + </p> + <p> + “I will clean him off a little for you.” + </p> + <p> + He took a pail of water and a brush and began to scrub the wooden image + vigorously, while the two old women kept on praying. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished he said: + </p> + <p> + “Now he is all right.” And he took us back to the house to drink another + glass. + </p> + <p> + As he was carrying the glass to his lips he stopped and said in a rather + confused manner: + </p> + <p> + “All the same, when I put Saint Blanc out with the rabbits I thought he + would not make any more money. For two years no one had asked for him. But + the saints, you see, they are never out of date.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Original Short Stories of Maupassant, +Volume 10, by Guy de Maupassant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAUPASSANT SHORT STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 3086-h.htm or 3086-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/8/3086/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +Original Short Stories, Vol. 10. +By Guy de Maupassant + + + + + VOLUME X. + +THE CHRISTENING +THE FARMER'S WIFE +THE DEVIL +THE SNIPE +THE WILL +WALTER SCHNAFF'S ADVENTURE +AT SEA +MINUET +THE SON +THAT PIG OF A MORIN +SAINT ANTHONY +LASTING LOVE +PIERROT +A NORMANDY JOKE +FATHER MATTHEW + + + + + + +THE CHRISTENING + +"Well doctor, a little brandy?" + +"With pleasure." + +The old ship's surgeon, holding out his glass, watched it as it slowly +filled with the golden liquid. Then, holding it in front of his eyes, he +let the light from the lamp stream through it, smelled it, tasted a few +drops and smacked his lips with relish. Then he said: + +"Ah! the charming poison! Or rather the seductive murderer, the +delightful destroyer of peoples! + +"You people do not know it the way I do. You may have read that +admirable book entitled L'Assommoir, but you have not, as I have, seen +alcohol exterminate a whole tribe of savages, a little kingdom of +negroes--alcohol calmly unloaded by the barrel by red-bearded English +seamen. + +"Right near here, in a little village in Brittany near Pont-l'Abbe, I +once witnessed a strange and terrible tragedy caused by alcohol. I was +spending my vacation in a little country house left me by my father. +You know this flat coast where the wind whistles day and night, where one +sees, standing or prone, these giant rocks which in the olden times were +regarded as guardians, and which still retain something majestic and +imposing about them. I always expect to see them come to life and start +to walk across the country with the slow and ponderous tread of giants, +or to unfold enormous granite wings and fly toward the paradise of the +Druids. + +"Everywhere is the sea, always ready on the slightest provocation to rise +in its anger and shake its foamy mane at those bold enough to brave its +wrath. + +"And the men who travel on this terrible sea, which, with one motion of +its green back, can overturn and swallow up their frail barks--they go +out in the little boats, day and night, hardy, weary and drunk. They are +often drunk. They have a saying which says: 'When the bottle is full you +see the reef, but when it is empty you see it no more.' + +"Go into one of their huts; you will never find the father there. If you +ask the woman what has become of her husband, she will stretch her arms +out over the dark ocean which rumbles and roars along the coast. +He remained, there one night, when he had had too much to drink; so did +her oldest son. She has four more big, strong, fair-haired boys. Soon +it will be their time. + +"As I said, I was living in a little house near Pont-l'Abbe. I was there +alone with my servant, an old sailor, and with a native family which took +care of the grounds in my absence. It consisted of three persons, two +sisters and a man, who had married one of them, and who attended to the +garden. + +"A short time before Christmas my gardener's wife presented him with a +boy. The husband asked me to stand as god-father. I could hardly deny +the request, and so he borrowed ten francs from me for the cost of the +christening, as he said. + +"The second day of January was chosen as the date of the ceremony. For a +week the earth had been covered by an enormous white carpet of snow, +which made this flat, low country seem vast and limitless. The ocean +appeared to be black in contrast with this white plain; one could see it +rolling, raging and tossing its waves as though wishing to annihilate its +pale neighbor, which appeared to be dead, it was so calm, quiet and cold. + +"At nine o'clock the father, Kerandec, came to my door with his sister- +in-law, the big Kermagan, and the nurse, who carried the infant wrapped +up in a blanket. We started for the church. The weather was so cold +that it seemed to dry up the skin and crack it open. I was thinking of +the poor little creature who was being carried on ahead of us, and I said +to myself that this Breton race must surely be of iron, if their children +were able, as soon as they were born, to stand such an outing. + +"We came to the church, but the door was closed; the priest was late. + +"Then the nurse sat down on one of the steps and began to undress the +child. At first I thought there must have been some slight accident, but +I saw that they were leaving the poor little fellow naked completely +naked, in the icy air. Furious at such imprudence, I protested: + +"'Why, you are crazy! You will kill the child!' + +"The woman answered quietly: 'Oh, no, sir; he must wait naked before the +Lord.' + +"The father and the aunt looked on undisturbed. It was the custom. If +it were not adhered to misfortune was sure to attend the little one. + +"I scolded, threatened and pleaded. I used force to try to cover the +frail creature. All was in vain. The nurse ran away from me through the +snow, and the body of the little one turned purple. I was about to leave +these brutes when I saw the priest coming across the country, followed. +by the sexton and a young boy. I ran towards him and gave vent to my +indignation. He showed no surprise nor did he quicken his pace in the +least. He answered: + +"'What can you expect, sir? It's the custom. They all do it, and it's +of no use trying to stop them.' + +"'But at least hurry up!' I cried. + +"He answered: 'But I can't go any faster.' + +"He entered the vestry, while we remained outside on the church steps. +I was suffering. But what about the poor little creature who was howling +from the effects of the biting cold. + +"At last the door opened. He went into the church. But the poor child +had to remain naked throughout the ceremony. It was interminable. The +priest stammered over the Latin words and mispronounced them horribly. +He walked slowly and with a ponderous tread. His white surplice chilled +my heart. It seemed as though, in the name of a pitiless and barbarous +god, he had wrapped himself in another kind of snow in order to torture +this little piece of humanity that suffered so from the cold. + +"Finally the christening was finished according to the rites and I saw +the nurse once more take the frozen, moaning child and wrap it up in the +blanket. + +"The priest said to me: 'Do you wish to sign the register?' + +"Turning to my gardener, I said: "Hurry up and get home quickly so that +you can warm that child.' I gave him some advice so as to ward off, if +not too late, a bad attack of pneumonia. He promised to follow my +instructions and left with his sister-in-law and the nurse. I followed +the priest into the vestry, and when I had signed he demanded five francs +for expenses. + +"As I had already given the father ten francs, I refused to pay twice. +The priest threatened to destroy the paper and to annul the ceremony. +I, in turn, threatened him with the district attorney. The dispute was +long, and I finally paid five francs. + +"As soon as I reached home I went down to Kerandec's to find out whether +everything was all right. Neither father, nor sister-in-law, nor nurse +had yet returned. The mother, who had remained alone, was in bed, +shivering with cold and starving, for she had had nothing to eat since +the day before. + +"'Where the deuce can they have gone?' I asked. She answered without +surprise or anger, 'They're going to drink something to celebrate: It was +the custom. Then I thought, of my ten francs which were to pay the +church and would doubtless pay for the alcohol. + +"I sent some broth to the mother and ordered a good fire to be built in +the room. I was uneasy and furious and promised myself to drive out +these brutes, wondering with terror what was going to happen to the poor +infant. + +"It was already six, and they had not yet returned. I told my servant to +wait for them and I went to bed. I soon fell asleep and slept like a +top. At daybreak I was awakened by my servant, who was bringing me my +hot water. + +"As soon as my eyes were open I asked: 'How about Kerandec?' + +"The man hesitated and then stammered: 'Oh! he came back, all right, +after midnight, and so drunk that he couldn't walk, and so were Kermagan +and the nurse. I guess they must have slept in a ditch, for the little +one died and they never even noticed it.' + +"I jumped up out of bed, crying: + +"'What! The child is dead?' + +"'Yes, sir. They brought it back to Mother Kerandec. When she saw it +she began to cry, and now they are making her drink to console her.' + +"'What's that? They are making her drink!' + +"'Yes, sir. I only found it out this morning. As Kerandec had no more +brandy or money, he took some wood alcohol, which monsieur gave him for +the lamp, and all four of them are now drinking that. The mother is +feeling pretty sick now.' + +"I had hastily put on some clothes, and seizing a stick, with the +intention of applying it to the backs of these human beasts, I hastened +towards the gardener's house. + +"The mother was raving drunk beside the blue body of her dead baby. +Kerandec, the nurse, and the Kermagan woman were snoring on the floor. +I had to take care of the mother, who died towards noon." + +The old doctor was silent. He took up the brandy-bottle and poured out +another glass. He held it up to the lamp, and the light streaming +through it imparted to the liquid the amber color of molten topaz. With +one gulp he swallowed the treacherous drink. + + + + + + +THE FARMER'S WIFE + +Said the Baron Rene du Treilles to me: + +"Will you come and open the hunting season with me at my farm at +Marinville? I shall be delighted if you will, my dear boy. In the first +place, I am all alone. It is rather a difficult ground to get at, and +the place I live in is so primitive that I can invite only my most +intimate friends." + +I accepted his invitation, and on Saturday we set off on the train going +to Normandy. We alighted at a station called Almivare, and Baron Rene, +pointing to a carryall drawn by a timid horse and driven by a big +countryman with white hair, said: + +"Here is our equipage, my dear boy." + +The driver extended his hand to his landlord, and the baron pressed it +warmly, asking: + +"Well, Maitre Lebrument, how are you?" + +"Always the same, M'sieu le Baron." + +We jumped into this swinging hencoop perched on two enormous wheels, and +the young horse, after a violent swerve, started into a gallop, pitching +us into the air like balls. Every fall backward on the wooden bench gave +me the most dreadful pain. + +The peasant kept repeating in his calm, monotonous voice: + +"There, there! All right all right, Moutard, all right!" + +But Moutard scarcely heard, and kept capering along like a goat. + +Our two dogs behind us, in the empty part of the hencoop, were standing +up and sniffing the air of the plains, where they scented game. + +The baron gazed with a sad eye into the distance at the vast Norman +landscape, undulating and melancholy, like an immense English park, where +the farmyards, surrounded by two or four rows of trees and full of +dwarfed apple trees which hid the houses, gave a vista as far as the eye +could see of forest trees, copses and shrubbery such as landscape +gardeners look for in laying out the boundaries of princely estates. + +And Rene du Treilles suddenly exclaimed: + +"I love this soil; I have my very roots in it." + +He was a pure Norman, tall and strong, with a slight paunch, and of the +old race of adventurers who went to found kingdoms on the shores of every +ocean. He was about fifty years of age, ten years less perhaps than the +farmer who was driving us. + +The latter was a lean peasant, all skin and bone, one of those men who +live a hundred years. + +After two hours' travelling over stony roads, across that green and +monotonous plain, the vehicle entered one of those orchard farmyards and +drew up before in old structure falling into decay, where an old maid- +servant stood waiting beside a young fellow, who took charge of the +horse. + +We entered the farmhouse. The smoky kitchen was high and spacious. The +copper utensils and the crockery shone in the reflection of the hearth. +A cat lay asleep on a chair, a dog under the table. One perceived an +odor of milk, apples, smoke, that indescribable smell peculiar to old +farmhouses; the odor of the earth, of the walls, of furniture, the odor +of spilled stale soup, of former wash-days and of former inhabitants, the +smell of animals and of human beings combined, of things and of persons, +the odor of time, and of things that have passed away. + +I went out to have a look at the farmyard. It was very large, full of +apple trees, dwarfed and crooked, and laden with fruit which fell on the +grass around them. In this farmyard the Norman smell of apples was as +strong as that of the bloom of orange trees on the shores of the south of +France. + +Four rows of beeches surrounded this inclosure. They were so tall that +they seemed to touch the clouds at this hour of nightfall, and their +summits, through which the night winds passed, swayed and sang a +mournful, interminable song. + +I reentered the house. + +The baron was warming his feet at the fire, and was listening to the +farmer's talk about country matters. He talked about marriages, births +and deaths, then about the fall in the price of grain and the latest news +about cattle. The "Veularde" (as he called a cow that had been bought at +the fair of Veules) had calved in the middle of June. The cider had not +been first-class last year. Apricots were almost disappearing from the +country. + +Then we had dinner. It was a good rustic meal, simple and abundant, long +and tranquil. And while we were dining I noticed the special kind of +friendly familiarity which had struck me from the start between the baron +and the peasant. + +Outside, the beeches continued sighing in the night wind, and our two +dogs, shut up in a shed, were whining and howling in an uncanny fashion. +The fire was dying out in the big fireplace. The maid-servant had gone +to bed. Maitre Lebrument said in his turn: + +"If you don't mind, M'sieu le Baron, I'm going to bed. I am not used to +staying up late." + +The baron extended his hand toward him and said: "Go, my friend," in so +cordial a tone that I said, as soon as the man had disappeared: + +"He is devoted to you, this farmer?" + +"Better than that, my dear fellow! It is a drama, an old drama, simple +and very sad, that attaches him to me. Here is the story: + +"You know that my father was colonel in a cavalry regiment. His orderly +was this young fellow, now an old man, the son of a farmer. When my +father retired from the army he took this former soldier, then about +forty; as his servant. I was at that time about thirty. We were living +in our old chateau of Valrenne, near Caudebec-en-Caux. + +"At this period my mother's chambermaid was one of the prettiest girls +you could see, fair-haired, slender and sprightly in manner, a genuine +soubrette of the old type that no longer exists. To-day these creatures +spring up into hussies before their time. Paris, with the aid of the +railways, attracts them, calls them, takes hold of them, as soon as they +are budding into womanhood, these little sluts who in old times remained +simple maid-servants. Every man passing by, as recruiting sergeants did +formerly, looking for recruits, with conscripts, entices and ruins them-- +these foolish lassies--and we have now only the scum of the female sex +for servant maids, all that is dull, nasty, common and ill-formed, too +ugly, even for gallantry. + +"Well, this girl was charming, and I often gave her a kiss in dark +corners; nothing more, I swear to you! She was virtuous, besides; and I +had some respect for my mother's house, which is more than can be said of +the blackguards of the present day. + +"Now, it happened that my man-servant, the ex-soldier, the old farmer you +have just seen, fell madly in love with this girl, perfectly daft. The +first thing we noticed was that he forgot everything, he paid no +attention to anything. + +"My father said incessantly: + +"'See here, Jean, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?' + +"He replied: + +"'No, no, M'sieu le Baron. There's nothing the matter with me.' + +"He grew thin; he broke glasses and let plates fall when waiting on the +table. We thought he must have been attacked by some nervous affection, +and sent for the doctor, who thought he could detect symptoms of spinal +disease. Then my father, full of anxiety about his faithful man-servant, +decided to place him in a private hospital. When the poor fellow heard +of my father's intentions he made a clean breast of it. + +"'M'sieu le Baron' + +"'Well, my boy?' + +"'You see, the thing I want is not physic.' + +"'Ha! what is it, then?' + +"'It's marriage!' + +"My father turned round and stared at him in astonishment. + +"'What's that you say, eh?' + +"'It's marriage." + +"'Marriage! So, then, you jackass, you're to love.' + +"'That's how it is, M'sieu le Baron.' + +"And my father began to laugh so immoderately that my mother called out +through the wall of the next room: + +"'What in the world is the matter with you, Gontran?' + +"He replied: + +"'Come here, Catherine.' + +"And when she came in he told her, with tears in his eyes from sheer +laughter, that his idiot of a servant-man was lovesick. + +"But my mother, instead of laughing, was deeply affected. + +"'Who is it that you have fallen in love with, my poor fellow?' she +asked. + +"He answered without hesitation: + +"'With Louise, Madame le Baronne.' + +"My mother said with the utmost gravity: 'We must try to arrange this +matter the best way we can.' + +"So Louise was sent for and questioned by my mother; and she said in +reply that she knew all about Jean's liking for her, that in fact Jean +had spoken to her about it several times, but that she did not want him. +She refused to say why. + +"And two months elapsed during which my father and mother never ceased to +urge this girl to marry Jean. As she declared she was not in love with +any other man, she could not give any serious reason for her refusal. My +father at last overcame her resistance by means of a big present of +money, and started the pair of them on a farm--this very farm. I did not +see them for three years, and then I learned that Louise had died of +consumption. But my father and mother died, too, in their turn, and it +was two years more before I found myself face to face with Jean. + +"At last one autumn day about the end of October the idea came into my +head to go hunting on this part of my estate, which my father had told me +was full of game. + +"So one evening, one wet evening, I arrived at this house. I was shocked +to find my father's old servant with perfectly white hair, though he was +not more than forty-five or forty-six years of age. I made him dine with +me, at the very table where we are now sitting. It was raining hard. +We could hear the rain battering at the roof, the walls, and the windows, +flowing in a perfect deluge into the farmyard; and my dog was howling in +the shed where the other dogs are howling to-night. + +"All of a sudden, when the servant-maid had gone to bed, the man said in +a timid voice: + +"'M'sieu le Baron.' + +"'What is it, my dear Jean?' + +"'I have something to tell you.' + +"'Tell it, my dear Jean.' + +"'You remember Louise, my wife.' + +"'Certainly, I remember her.' + +"'Well, she left me a message for you.' + +"'What was it?' + +"'A--a--well, it was what you might call a confession.' + +"'Ha--and what was it about?' + + +"'It was--it was--I'd rather, all the same, tell you nothing about it-- +but I must--I must. Well, it's this--it wasn't consumption she died of +at all. It was grief--well, that's the long and short of it. As soon as +she came to live here after we were married, she grew thin; she changed +so that you wouldn't know her, M'sieu le Baron. She was just as I was +before I married her, but it was just the opposite, just the opposite. + +"'I sent for the doctor. He said it was her liver that was affected--he +said it was what he called a "hepatic" complaint--I don't know these big +words, M'sieu le Baron. Then I bought medicine for her, heaps on heaps +of bottles that cost about three hundred francs. But she'd take none of +them; she wouldn't have them; she said: "It's no use, my poor Jean; it +wouldn't do me any good." I saw well that she had some hidden trouble; +and then I found her one time crying, and I didn't know what to do, no, +I didn't know what to do. I bought her caps, and dresses, and hair oil, +and earrings. Nothing did her any good. And I saw that she was going to +die. And so one night at the end of November, one snowy night, after she +had been in bed the whole day, she told me to send for the cure. So I +went for him. As soon as he came-- + +"Jean," she said, "I am going to make a confession to you. I owe it to +you, Jean. I have never been false to you, never! never, before or after +you married me. M'sieu le Cure is there, and can tell you so; he knows +my soul. Well, listen, Jean. If I am dying, it is because I was not +able to console myself for leaving the chateau, because I was too fond of +the young Baron Monsieur Rene, too fond of him, mind you, Jean, there was +no harm in it! This is the thing that's killing me. When I could see +him no more I felt that I should die. If I could only have seen him, I +might have lived, only seen him, nothing more. I wish you'd tell him +some day, by and by, when I am no longer here. You will tell him, swear +you, will, Jean--swear it--in the presence of M'sieu le Cure! It will +console me to know that he will know it one day, that this was the cause +of my death! Swear it!" + +'Well, I gave her my promise, M'sieu It Baron, and on the faith of an +honest man I have kept my word.' + +"And then he ceased speaking, his eyes filling with tears. + +"Good God! my dear boy, you can't form any idea of the emotion that +filled me when I heard this poor devil, whose wife I had killed without +suspecting it, telling me this story on that wet night in this very +kitchen. + +"I exclaimed: 'Ah! my poor Jean! my poor Jean!' + +"He murmured: 'Well, that's all, M'sieu le Baron. I could not help it, +one way or the other--and now it's all over!' + +"I caught his hand across the table, and I began to weep. + +"He asked, 'Will you come and see her grave?' I nodded assent, for I +couldn't speak. He rose, lighted a lantern, and we walked through the +blinding rain by the light of the lantern. + +"He opened a gate, and I saw some crosses of black wood. + +"Suddenly he stopped before a marble slab and said: 'There it is,' and he +flashed the lantern close to it so that I could read the inscription: + + "'TO LOUISE HORTENSE MARINET, + "'Wife of Jean-Francois Lebrument, Farmer, + "'SHE WAS A FAITHFUL WIFE. GOD REST HER SOUL.' + +"We fell on our knees in the damp grass, he and I, with the lantern +between us, and I saw the rain beating on the white marble slab. And I +thought of the heart of her sleeping there in her grave. Ah! poor heart! +poor heart! "Since then I come here every year. And I don't know why, +but I feel as if I were guilty of some crime in the presence of this man +who always looks as if he forgave me." + + + + + + +THE DEVIL + +The peasant and the doctor stood on opposite sides of the bed, beside the +old, dying woman. She was calm and resigned and her mind quite clear as +she looked at them and listened to their conversation. She was going to +die, and she did not rebel at it, for her time was come, as she was +ninety-two. + +The July sun streamed in at the window and the open door and cast its hot +flames on the uneven brown clay floor, which had been stamped down by +four generations of clodhoppers. The smell of the fields came in also, +driven by the sharp wind and parched by the noontide heat. The grass- +hoppers chirped themselves hoarse, and filled the country with their +shrill noise, which was like that of the wooden toys which are sold to +children at fair time. + +The doctor raised his voice and said: "Honore, you cannot leave your +mother in this state; she may die at any moment." And the peasant, in +great distress, replied: "But I must get in my wheat, for it has been +lying on the ground a long time, and the weather is just right for it; +what do you say about it, mother?" And the dying old woman, still +tormented by her Norman avariciousness, replied yes with her eyes and her +forehead, and thus urged her son to get in his wheat, and to leave her to +die alone. + +But the doctor got angry, and, stamping his foot, he said: "You are no +better than a brute, do you hear, and I will not allow you to do it, do +you understand? And if you must get in your wheat today, go and fetch +Rapet's wife and make her look after your mother; I will have it, do you +understand me? And if you do not obey me, I will let you die like a dog, +when you are ill in your turn; do you hear?" + +The peasant, a tall, thin fellow with slow movements, who was tormented +by indecision, by his fear of the doctor and his fierce love of saving, +hesitated, calculated, and stammered out: "How much does La Rapet charge +for attending sick people?" "How should I know?" the doctor cried. +"That depends upon how long she is needed. Settle it with her, by +Heaven! But I want her to be here within an hour, do you hear?" + +So the man decided. "I will go for her," he replied; "don't get angry, +doctor." And the latter left, calling out as he went: "Be careful, be +very careful, you know, for I do not joke when I am angry!" As soon as +they were alone the peasant turned to his mother and said in a resigned +voice: "I will go and fetch La Rapet, as the man will have it. Don't +worry till I get back." + +And he went out in his turn. + +La Rapet, old was an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of +the neighborhood, and then, as soon as she had sewn her customers into +that linen cloth from which they would emerge no more, she went and took +up her iron to smooth out the linen of the living. Wrinkled like a last +year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious with a phenomenal avarice, +bent double, as if she had been broken in half across the loins by the +constant motion of passing the iron over the linen, one might have said +that she had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a death struggle. +She never spoke of anything but of the people she had seen die, of the +various kinds of deaths at which she had been present, and she related +with the greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just as a +sportsman recounts his luck. + +When Honore Bontemps entered her cottage, he found her preparing the +starch for the collars of the women villagers, and he said: "Good- +evening; I hope you are pretty well, Mother Rapet?" + +She turned her head round to look at him, and said: "As usual, as usual, +and you?" "Oh! as for me, I am as well as I could wish, but my mother is +not well." "Your mother?" "Yes, my mother!" "What is the matter with +her?" "She is going to turn up her toes, that's what's the matter with +her!" + +The old woman took her hands out of the water and asked with sudden +sympathy: "Is she as bad as all that?" "The doctor says she will not +last till morning." "Then she certainly is very bad!" Honore hesitated, +for he wanted to make a few preparatory remarks before coming to his +proposition; but as he could hit upon nothing, he made up his mind +suddenly. + +"How much will you ask to stay with her till the end? You know that I am +not rich, and I can not even afford to keep a servant girl. It is just +that which has brought my poor mother to this state--too much worry and +fatigue! She did the work of ten, in spite of her ninety-two years. You +don't find any made of that stuff nowadays!" + +La Rapet answered gravely: "There are two prices: Forty sous by day and +three francs by night for the rich, and twenty sous by day and forty by +night for the others. You shall pay me the twenty and forty." But the, +peasant reflected, for he knew his mother well. He knew how tenacious of +life, how vigorous and unyielding she was, and she might last another +week, in spite of the doctor's opinion; and so he said resolutely: "No, I +would rather you would fix a price for the whole time until the end. +I will take my chance, one way or the other. The doctor says she will +die very soon. If that happens, so much the better for you, and so much +the worse for her, but if she holds out till to-morrow or longer, so much +the better for her and so much the worse for you!" + +The nurse looked at the man in astonishment, for she had never treated a +death as a speculation, and she hesitated, tempted by the idea of the +possible gain, but she suspected that he wanted to play her a trick. +"I can say nothing until I have seen your mother," she replied. + +"Then come with me and see her." + +She washed her hands, and went with him immediately. + +They did not speak on the road; she walked with short, hasty steps, while +he strode on with his long legs, as if he were crossing a brook at every +step. + +The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their +heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them +for some green grass. + +When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: "Suppose it is +all over?" And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in +the sound of his voice. + +But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her +wretched bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane, +horribly thin, knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like +crabs, half closed by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a +century which she had accomplished. + +La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her +pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her +questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for +some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided +opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked: +"Well?" And the sick-nurse replied: "Well, she may last two days, perhaps +three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included." + +"Six francs! six francs!" he shouted. "Are you out of your mind? I tell +you she cannot last more than five or six hours!" And they disputed +angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the +time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its +own accord, he finally agreed to her terms. + +"Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything, +until the corpse is taken out." + +And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat which was lying on the +ground under the hot sun which ripens the grain, while the sick-nurse +went in again to the house. + +She had brought some work with her, for she worked without ceasing by the +side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for the +family which employed her as seamstress and paid her rather more in that +capacity. Suddenly, she asked: "Have you received the last sacraments, +Mother Bontemps?" + +The old peasant woman shook her head, and La Rapet, who was very devout, +got up quickly: + +"Good heavens, is it possible? I will go and fetch the cure"; and she +rushed off to the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street +thought some accident had happened, when they saw her running. + +The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a choir boy who +rang a bell to announce the passage of the Host through the parched and +quiet country. Some men who were working at a distance took off their +large hats and remained motionless until the white vestment had +disappeared behind some farm buildings; the women who were making up the +sheaves stood up to make the sign of the cross; the frightened black hens +ran away along the ditch until they reached a well-known hole, through +which they suddenly disappeared, while a foal which was tied in a meadow +took fright at the sight of the surplice and began to gallop round and +round, kicking cut every now and then. The acolyte, in his red cassock, +walked quickly, and the priest, with his head inclined toward one +shoulder and his square biretta on his head, followed him, muttering some +prayers; while last of all came La Rapet, bent almost double as if she +wished to prostrate herself, as she walked with folded hands as they do +in church. + +Honore saw them pass in the distance, and he asked: "Where is our priest +going?" His man, who was more intelligent, replied: "He is taking the +sacrament to your mother, of course!" + +The peasant was not surprised, and said: "That may be," and went on with +his work. + +Mother Bontemps confessed, received absolution and communion, and the +priest took his departure, leaving the two women alone in the suffocating +room, while La Rapet began to look at the dying woman, and to ask herself +whether it could last much longer. + +The day was on the wane, and gusts of cooler air began to blow, causing a +view of Epinal, which was fastened to the wall by two pins, to flap up +and down; the scanty window curtains, which had formerly been white, but +were now yellow and covered with fly-specks, looked as if they were going +to fly off, as if they were struggling to get away, like the old woman's +soul. + +Lying motionless, with her eyes open, she seemed to await with +indifference that death which was so near and which yet delayed its +coming. Her short breathing whistled in her constricted throat. It +would stop altogether soon, and there would be one woman less in the +world; no one would regret her. + +At nightfall Honore returned, and when he went up to the bed and saw that +his mother was still alive, he asked: "How is she?" just as he had done +formerly when she had been ailing, and then he sent La Rapet away, saying +to her: "To-morrow morning at five o'clock, without fail." And she +replied: "To-morrow, at five o'clock." + +She came at daybreak, and found Honore eating his soup, which he had made +himself before going to work, and the sick-nurse asked him: "Well, is +your mother dead?" "She is rather better, on the contrary," he replied, +with a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. And he went out. + +La Rapet, seized with anxiety, went up to the dying woman, who remained +in the same state, lethargic and impassive, with her eyes open and her +hands clutching the counterpane. The nurse perceived that this might go +on thus for two days, four days, eight days, and her avaricious mind was +seized with fear, while she was furious at the sly fellow who had tricked +her, and at the woman who would not die. + +Nevertheless, she began to work, and waited, looking intently at the +wrinkled face of Mother Bontemps. When Honore returned to breakfast he +seemed quite satisfied and even in a bantering humor. He was decidedly +getting in his wheat under very favorable circumstances. + +La Rapet was becoming exasperated; every minute now seemed to her so much +time and money stolen from her. She felt a mad inclination to take this +old woman, this, headstrong old fool, this obstinate old wretch, and to +stop that short, rapid breath, which was robbing her of her time and +money, by squeezing her throat a little. But then she reflected on the +danger of doing so, and other thoughts came into her head; so she went up +to the bed and said: "Have you ever seen the Devil?" Mother Bontemps +murmured: "No." + +Then the sick-nurse began to talk and to tell her tales which were likely +to terrify the weak mind of the dying woman. Some minutes before one +dies the Devil appears, she said, to all who are in the death throes. +He has a broom in his hand, a saucepan on his head, and he utters loud +cries. When anybody sees him, all is over, and that person has only a +few moments longer to live. She then enumerated all those to whom the +Devil had appeared that year: Josephine Loisel, Eulalie Ratier, Sophie +Padaknau, Seraphine Grospied. + +Mother Bontemps, who had at last become disturbed in mind, moved about, +wrung her hands, and tried to turn her head to look toward the end of the +room. Suddenly La Rapet disappeared at the foot of the bed. She took a +sheet out of the cupboard and wrapped herself up in it; she put the iron +saucepan on her head, so that its three short bent feet rose up like +horns, and she took a broom in her right hand and a tin pail in her left, +which she threw up suddenly, so that it might fall to the ground noisily. + +When it came down, it certainly made a terrible noise. Then, climbing +upon a chair, the nurse lifted up the curtain which hung at the bottom of +the bed, and showed herself, gesticulating and uttering shrill cries into +the iron saucepan which covered her face, while she menaced the old +peasant woman, who was nearly dead, with her broom. + +Terrified, with an insane expression on her face, the dying woman made a +superhuman effort to get up and escape; she even got her shoulders and +chest out of bed; then she fell back with a deep sigh. All was over, and +La Rapet calmly put everything back into its place; the broom into the +corner by the cupboard the sheet inside it, the saucepan on the hearth, +the pail on the floor, and the chair against the wall. Then, with +professional movements, she closed the dead woman's large eyes, put a +plate on the bed and poured some holy water into it, placing in it the +twig of boxwood that had been nailed to the chest of drawers, and +kneeling down, she fervently repeated the prayers for the dead, which she +knew by heart, as a matter of business. + +And when Honore returned in the evening he found her praying, and he +calculated immediately that she had made twenty sows out of him, for she +had only spent three days and one night there, which made five francs +altogether, instead of the six which he owed her. + + + + + + +THE SNIPE + +Old Baron des Ravots had for forty years been the champion sportsman of +his province. But a stroke of paralysis had kept him in his chair for +the last five or six years. He could now only shoot pigeons from the +window of his drawing-room or from the top of his high doorsteps. + +He spent his time in reading. + +He was a good-natured business man, who had much of the literary spirit +of a former century. He worshipped anecdotes, those little risque +anecdotes, and also true stories of events that happened in his +neighborhood. As soon as a friend came to see him he asked: + +"Well, anything new?" + +And he knew how to worm out information like an examining lawyer. + +On sunny days he had his large reclining chair, similar to a bed, wheeled +to the hall door. A man servant behind him held his guns, loaded them +and handed them to his master. Another valet, hidden in the bushes, let +fly a pigeon from time to time at irregular intervals, so that the baron +should be unprepared and be always on the watch. + +And from morning till night he fired at the birds, much annoyed if he +were taken by surprise and laughing till he cried when the animal fell +straight to the earth or, turned over in some comical and unexpected +manner. He would turn to the man who was loading the gun and say, almost +choking with laughter: + +"Did that get him, Joseph? Did you see how he fell?" Joseph invariably +replied: + +"Oh, monsieur le baron never misses them." + +In autumn, when the shooting season opened, he invited his friends as he +had done formerly, and loved to hear them firing in the distance. He +counted the shots and was pleased when they followed each other rapidly. +And in the evening he made each guest give a faithful account of his day. +They remained three hours at table telling about their sport. + +They were strange and improbable adventures in which the romancing spirit +of the sportsmen delighted. Some of them were memorable stories and were +repeated regularly. The story of a rabbit that little Vicomte de Bourril +had missed in his vestibule convulsed them with laughter each year anew. +Every five minutes a fresh speaker would say: + +"I heard 'birr! birr!' and a magnificent covey rose at ten paces from +me. I aimed. Pif! paf! and I saw a shower, a veritable shower of +birds. There were seven of them!" + +And they all went into raptures, amazed, but reciprocally credulous. + +But there was an old custom in the house called "The Story of the Snipe." + +Whenever this queen of birds was in season the same ceremony took place +at each dinner. As they worshipped this incomparable bird, each guest +ate one every evening, but the heads were all left in the dish. + +Then the baron, acting the part of a bishop, had a plate brought to him +containing a little fat, and he carefully anointed the precious heads, +holding them by the tip of their slender, needle-like beak. A lighted +candle was placed beside him and everyone was silent in an anxiety of +expectation. + +Then he took one of the heads thus prepared, stuck a pin through it and +stuck the pin on a cork, keeping the whole contrivance steady by means of +little crossed sticks, and carefully placed this object on the neck of a +bottle in the manner of a tourniquet. + +All the guests counted simultaneously in a loud tone-- + +"One-two-three." + +And the baron with a fillip of the finger made this toy whirl round. + +The guest to whom the long beak pointed when the head stopped became the +possessor of all the heads, a feast fit for a king, which made his +neighbors look askance. + +He took them one by one and toasted them over the candle. The grease +sputtered, the roasting flesh smoked and the lucky winner ate the head, +holding it by the beak and uttering exclamations of enjoyment. + +And at each head the diners, raising their glasses, drank to his health. + +When he had finished the last head he was obliged, at the baron's orders, +to tell an anecdote to compensate the disappointed ones. + +Here are some of the stories. + + + + + + +THE WILL + +I knew that tall young fellow, Rene de Bourneval. He was an agreeable +man, though rather melancholy and seemed prejudiced against everything, +was very skeptical, and he could with a word tear down social hypocrisy. +He would often say: + +"There are no honorable men, or, at least, they are only relatively so +when compared with those lower than themselves." + +He had two brothers, whom he never saw, the Messieurs de Courcils. I +always supposed they were by another father, on account of the difference +in the name. I had frequently heard that the family had a strange +history, but did not know the details. As I took a great liking to Rene +we soon became intimate friends, and one evening, when I had been dining +with him alone, I asked him, by chance: "Are you a son of the first or +second marriage?" He grew rather pale, and then flushed, and did not +speak for a few moments; he was visibly embarrassed. Then he smiled in +the melancholy, gentle manner, which was peculiar to him, and said: + +"My dear friend, if it will not weary you, I can give you some very +strange particulars about my life. I know that you are a sensible man, +so I do not fear that our friendship will suffer by my I revelations; and +should it suffer, I should not care about having you for my friend any +longer. + +"My mother, Madame de Courcils, was a poor little, timid woman, whom her +husband had married for the sake of her fortune, and her whole life was +one of martyrdom. Of a loving, timid, sensitive disposition, she was +constantly being ill-treated by the man who ought to have been my father, +one of those boors called country gentlemen. A month after their +marriage he was living a licentious life and carrying on liaisons with +the wives and daughters of his tenants. This did not prevent him from +having three children by his wife, that is, if you count me in. My +mother said nothing, and lived in that noisy house like a little mouse. +Set aside, unnoticed, nervous, she looked at people with her bright, +uneasy, restless eyes, the eyes of some terrified creature which can +never shake off its fear. And yet she was pretty, very pretty and fair, +a pale blonde, as if her hair had lost its color through her constant +fear. + +"Among the friends of Monsieur de Courcils who constantly came to her +chateau, there was an ex-cavalry officer, a widower, a man who was +feared, who was at the same time tender and violent, capable of the most +determined resolves, Monsieur de Bourneval, whose name I bear. He was a +tall, thin man, with a heavy black mustache. I am very like him. He was +a man who had read a great deal, and his ideas were not like those of +most of his class. His great-grandmother had been a friend of +J. J. Rousseau's, and one might have said that he had inherited something +of this ancestral connection. He knew the Contrat Social, and the +Nouvelle Heloise by heart, and all those philosophical books which +prepared in advance the overthrow of our old usages, prejudices, +superannuated laws and imbecile morality. + +"It seems that he loved my mother, and she loved him, but their liaison +was carried on so secretly that no one guessed at its existence. The +poor, neglected, unhappy woman must have clung to him in despair, and in +her intimacy with him must have imbibed all his ways of thinking, +theories of free thought, audacious ideas of independent love; but being +so timid she never ventured to speak out, and it was all driven back, +condensed, shut up in her heart. + +"My two brothers were very hard towards her, like their father, and never +gave her a caress, and, accustomed to seeing her count for nothing in the +house, they treated her rather like a servant. I was the only one of her +sons who really loved her and whom she loved. + +"When she died I was seventeen, and I must add, in order that you may +understand what follows, that a lawsuit between my father and mother had +been decided in my mother's favor, giving her the bulk of the property, +and, thanks to the tricks of the law, and the intelligent devotion of a +lawyer to her interests, the right to make her will in favor of whom she +pleased. + +"We were told that there was a will at the lawyer's office and were +invited to be present at the reading of it. I can remember it, as if it +were yesterday. It was an imposing scene, dramatic, burlesque and +surprising, occasioned by the posthumous revolt of that dead woman, by +the cry for liberty, by the demands of that martyred one who had been +crushed by our oppression during her lifetime and who, from her closed +tomb, uttered a despairing appeal for independence. + +"The man who believed he was my father, a stout, ruddy-faced man, who +looked like a butcher, and my brothers, two great fellows of twenty and +twenty-two, were waiting quietly in their chairs. Monsieur de Bourneval, +who had been invited to be present, came in and stood behind me. He was +very pale and bit his mustache, which was turning gray. No doubt he was +prepared for what was going to happen. The lawyer double-locked the door +and began to read the will, after having opened, in our presence, the +envelope, sealed with red wax, of the contents of which he was ignorant." + +My friend stopped talking abruptly, and rising, took from his writing- +table an old paper, unfolded it, kissed it and then continued: "This is +the will of my beloved mother: + + "'I, the undersigned, Anne Catherine-Genevieve-Mathilde de + Croixluce, the legitimate wife of Leopold-Joseph Gontran de Councils + sound in body and mind, here express my last wishes. + + I first of all ask God, and then my dear son Rene to pardon me for + the act I am about to commit. I believe that my child's heart is + great enough to understand me, and to forgive me. I have suffered + my whole life long. I was married out of calculation, then + despised, misunderstood, oppressed and constantly deceived by my + husband. + + "'I forgive him, but I owe him nothing. + + "'My elder sons never loved me, never petted me, scarcely treated me + as a mother, but during my whole life I did my duty towards them, + and I owe them nothing more after my death. The ties of blood + cannot exist without daily and constant affection. An ungrateful + son is less than, a stranger; he is a culprit, for he has no right + to be indifferent towards his mother. + + "'I have always trembled before men, before their unjust laws, their + inhuman customs, their shameful prejudices. Before God, I have no + longer any fear. Dead, I fling aside disgraceful hypocrisy; I dare + to speak my thoughts, and to avow and to sign the secret of my + heart. + + "'I therefore leave that part of my fortune of which the law allows + me to dispose, in trust to my dear lover, Pierre-Germer-Simon de + Bourneval, to revert afterwards to our dear son Rene. + + "'(This bequest is specified more precisely in a deed drawn + up by a notary.) + + "'And I declare before the Supreme Judge who hears me, that I should + have cursed heaven and my own existence, if I had not found the + deep, devoted, tender, unshaken affection of my lover; if I had not + felt in his arms that the Creator made His creatures to love, + sustain and console each other, and to weep together in the hours of + sadness. + + "'Monsieur de Courcils is the father of my two eldest sons; Rene, + alone, owes his life to Monsieur de Bourneval. I pray the Master of + men and of their destinies, to place father and son above social + prejudices, to make them love each other until they die, and to love + me also in my coffin. + + "'These are my last thoughts, and my last wish. + + "'MATHILDE DE CROIXLUCE.' + + +"Monsieur de Courcils had risen and he cried: + +"'It is the will of a madwoman.' + +"Then Monsieur de Bourneval stepped forward and said in a loud, +penetrating voice: 'I, Simon de Bourneval, solemnly declare that this +writing contains nothing but the strict truth, and I am ready to prove it +by letters which I possess.' + +"On hearing that, Monsieur de Courcils went up to him, and I 'thought +that they were going to attack each other. There they stood, both of +them tall, one stout and the other thin, both trembling. My mother's +husband stammered out: 'You are a worthless wretch!' And the other +replied in a loud, dry voice: 'We will meet elsewhere, monsieur. +I should have already slapped your ugly face and challenged you long +since if I had not, before everything else, thought of the peace of mind +during her lifetime of that poor woman whom you caused to suffer so +greatly.' + +"Then, turning to me, he said: 'You are my son; will you come with me? +I have no right to take you away, but I shall assume it, if you are +willing to come with me: I shook his hand without replying, and we went +out together. I was certainly three parts mad. + +"Two days later Monsieur de Bourneval killed Monsieur de Courcils in a +duel. My brothers, to avoid a terrible scandal, held their tongues. +I offered them and they accepted half the fortune which my mother had +left me. I took my real father's name, renouncing that which the law +gave me, but which was not really mine. Monsieur de Bourneval died three +years later and I am still inconsolable." + +He rose from his chair, walked up and down the room, and, standing in +front of me, said: + +"Well, I say that my mother's will was one of the most beautiful, the +most loyal, as well as one of the grandest acts that a woman could +perform. Do you not think so?" + +I held out both hands to him, saying: + +"I most certainly do, my friend." + + + + + + +WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE + +Ever since he entered France with the invading army Walter Schnaffs had +considered himself the most unfortunate of men. He was large, had +difficulty in walking, was short of breath and suffered frightfully with +his feet, which were very flat and very fat. But he was a peaceful, +benevolent man, not warlike or sanguinary, the father of four children +whom he adored, and married to a little blonde whose little tendernesses, +attentions and kisses he recalled with despair every evening. He liked +to rise late and retire early, to eat good things in a leisurely manner +and to drink beer in the saloon. He reflected, besides, that all that is +sweet in existence vanishes with life, and he maintained in his heart a +fearful hatred, instinctive as well as logical, for cannon, rifles, +revolvers and swords, but especially for bayonets, feeling that he was +unable to dodge this dangerous weapon rapidly enough to protect his big +paunch. + +And when night fell and he lay on the ground, wrapped in his cape beside +his comrades who were snoring, he thought long and deeply about those he +had left behind and of the dangers in his path. "If he were killed what +would become of the little ones? Who would provide for them and bring +them up?" Just at present they were not rich, although he had borrowed +when he left so as to leave them some money. And Walter Schnaffs wept +when he thought of all this. + +At the beginning of a battle his legs became so weak that he would have +fallen if he had not reflected that the entire army would pass over his +body. The whistling of the bullets gave him gooseflesh. + +For months he had lived thus in terror and anguish. + +His company was marching on Normandy, and one day he was sent to +reconnoitre with a small detachment, simply to explore a portion of the +territory and to return at once. All seemed quiet in the country; +nothing indicated an armed resistance. + +But as the Prussians were quietly descending into a little valley +traversed by deep ravines a sharp fusillade made them halt suddenly, +killing twenty of their men, and a company of sharpshooters, suddenly +emerging from a little wood as large as your hand, darted forward with +bayonets at the end of their rifles. + +Walter Schnaffs remained motionless at first, so surprised and bewildered +that he did not even think of making his escape. Then he was seized with +a wild desire to run away, but he remembered at once that he ran like a +tortoise compared with those thin Frenchmen, who came bounding along like +a lot of goats. Perceiving a large ditch full of brushwood covered with +dead leaves about six paces in front of him, he sprang into it with both +feet together, without stopping to think of its depth, just as one jumps +from a bridge into the river. + +He fell like an arrow through a thick layer of vines and thorny brambles +that tore his face and hands and landed heavily in a sitting posture on a +bed of stones. Raising his eyes, he saw the sky through the hole he had +made in falling through. This aperture might betray him, and he crawled +along carefully on hands and knees at the bottom of this ditch beneath +the covering of interlacing branches, going as fast as he could and +getting away from the scene of the skirmish. Presently he stopped and +sat down, crouched like a hare amid the tall dry grass. + +He heard firing and cries and groans going on for some time. Then the +noise of fighting grew fainter and ceased. All was quiet and silent. + +Suddenly something stirred, beside him. He was frightfully startled. It +was a little bird which had perched on a branch and was moving the dead +leaves. For almost an hour Walter Schnaffs' heart beat loud and rapidly. + +Night fell, filling the ravine with its shadows. The soldier began to +think. What was he to do? What was to become of him? Should he rejoin +the army? But how? By what road? And he began over again the horrible +life of anguish, of terror, of fatigue and suffering that he had led +since the commencement of the war. No! He no longer had the courage! +He would not have the energy necessary to endure long marches and to face +the dangers to which one was exposed at every moment. + +But what should he do? He could not stay in this ravine in concealment +until the end of hostilities. No, indeed! If it were not for having to +eat, this prospect would not have daunted him greatly. But he had to +eat, to eat every day. + +And here he was, alone, armed and in uniform, on the enemy's territory, +far from those who would protect him. A shiver ran over him. + +All at once he thought: "If I were only a prisoner!" And his heart +quivered with a longing, an intense desire to be taken prisoner by the +French. A prisoner, he would be saved, fed, housed, sheltered from +bullets and swords, without any apprehension whatever, in a good, well- +kept prison. A prisoner! What a dream: + +His resolution was formed at once. + +"I will constitute myself a prisoner." + +He rose, determined to put this plan into execution without a moment's +delay. But he stood motionless, suddenly a prey to disturbing +reflections and fresh terrors. + +Where would he make himself a prisoner and how? In What direction? And +frightful pictures, pictures of death came into his mind. + +He would run terrible danger in venturing alone through the country with +his pointed helmet. + +Supposing he should meet some peasants. These peasants seeing a Prussian +who had lost his way, an unprotected Prussian, would kill him as if he +were a stray dog! They would murder him with their forks, their picks, +their scythes and their shovels. They would make a stew of him, a pie, +with the frenzy of exasperated, conquered enemies. + +If he should meet the sharpshooters! These sharpshooters, madmen without +law or discipline, would shoot him just for amusement to pass an hour; it +would make them laugh to see his head. And he fancied he was already +leaning against a wall in-front of four rifles whose little black +apertures seemed to be gazing at him. + +Supposing he should meet the French army itself. The vanguard would take +him for a scout, for some bold and sly trooper who had set off alone to +reconnoitre, and they would fire at him. And he could already hear, in +imagination, the irregular shots of soldiers lying in the brush, while he +himself, standing in the middle of the field, was sinking to the earth, +riddled like a sieve with bullets which he felt piercing his flesh. + +He sat down again in despair. His situation seemed hopeless. + +It was quite a dark, black and silent night. He no longer budged, +trembling at all the slight and unfamiliar sounds that occur at night. +The sound of a rabbit crouching at the edge of his burrow almost made him +run. The cry of an owl caused him positive anguish, giving him a nervous +shock that pained like a wound. He opened his big eyes as wide as +possible to try and see through the darkness, and he imagined every +moment that he heard someone walking close beside him. + +After interminable hours in which he suffered the tortures of the damned, +he noticed through his leafy cover that the sky was becoming bright. He +at once felt an intense relief. His limbs stretched out, suddenly +relaxed, his heart quieted down, his eyes closed; he fell asleep. + +When he awoke the sun appeared to be almost at the meridian. It must be +noon. No sound disturbed the gloomy silence. Walter Schnaffs noticed +that he was exceedingly hungry. + +He yawned, his mouth watering at the thought of sausage, the good sausage +the soldiers have, and he felt a gnawing at his stomach. + +He rose from the ground, walked a few steps, found that his legs were +weak and sat down to reflect. For two or three hours he again considered +the pros and cons, changing his mind every moment, baffled, unhappy, torn +by the most conflicting motives. + +Finally he had an idea that seemed logical and practical. It was to +watch for a villager passing by alone, unarmed and with no dangerous +tools of his trade, and to run to him and give himself up, making him +understand that he was surrendering. + +He took off his helmet, the point of which might betray him, and put his +head out of his hiding place with the utmost caution. + +No solitary pedestrian could be perceived on the horizon. Yonder, to the +right, smoke rose from the chimney of a little village, smoke from +kitchen fires! And yonder, to the left, he saw at the end of an avenue +of trees a large turreted chateau. He waited till evening, suffering +frightfully from hunger, seeing nothing but flights of crows, hearing +nothing but the silent expostulation of his empty stomach. + +And darkness once more fell on him. + +He stretched himself out in his retreat and slept a feverish sleep, +haunted by nightmares, the sleep of a starving man. + +Dawn again broke above his head and he began to make his observations. +But the landscape was deserted as on the previous day, and a new fear +came into Walter Schnaffs' mind--the fear of death by hunger! He +pictured himself lying at full length on his back at the bottom of his +hiding place, with his two eyes closed, and animals, little creatures of +all kinds, approached and began to feed on his dead body, attacking it +all over at once, gliding beneath his clothing to bite his cold flesh, +and a big crow pecked out his eyes with its sharp beak. + +He almost became crazy, thinking he was going to faint and would not be +able to walk. And he was just preparing to rush off to the village, +determined to dare anything, to brave everything, when he perceived three +peasants walking to the fields with their forks across their shoulders, +and he dived back into his hiding place. + +But as soon as it grew dark he slowly emerged from the ditch and started +off, stooping and fearful, with beating heart, towards the distant +chateau, preferring to go there rather than to the village, which seemed +to him as formidable as a den of tigers. + +The lower windows were brilliantly lighted. One of them was open and +from it escaped a strong odor of roast meat, an odor which suddenly +penetrated to the olfactories and to the stomach of Walter Schnaffs, +tickling his nerves, making him breathe quickly, attracting him +irresistibly and inspiring his heart with the boldness of desperation. + +And abruptly, without reflection, he placed himself, helmet on head, in +front of the window. + +Eight servants were at dinner around a large table. But suddenly one of +the maids sat there, her mouth agape, her eyes fixed and letting fall her +glass. They all followed the direction of her gaze. + +They saw the enemy! + +Good God! The Prussians were attacking the chateau! + +There was a shriek, only one shriek made up of eight shrieks uttered in +eight different keys, a terrific screaming of terror, then a tumultuous +rising from their seats, a jostling, a scrimmage and a wild rush to the +door at the farther end. Chairs fell over, the men knocked the women +down and walked over them. In two seconds the room was empty, deserted, +and the table, covered with eatables, stood in front of Walter Schnaffs, +lost in amazement and still standing at the window. + +After some moments of hesitation he climbed in at the window and +approached the table. His fierce hunger caused him to tremble as if he +were in a fever, but fear still held him back, numbed him. He listened. +The entire house seemed to shudder. Doors closed, quick steps ran along +the floor above. The uneasy Prussian listened eagerly to these confused +sounds. Then he heard dull sounds, as though bodies were falling to the +ground at the foot of the walls, human beings jumping from the first +floor. + +Then all motion, all disturbance ceased, and the great chateau became as +silent as the grave. + +Walter Schnaffs sat down before a clean plate and began to eat. He took +great mouthfuls, as if he feared he might be interrupted before he had +swallowed enough. He shovelled the food into his mouth, open like a +trap, with both hands, and chunks of food went into his stomach, swelling +out his throat as it passed down. Now and then he stopped, almost ready +to burst like a stopped-up pipe. Then he would take the cider jug and +wash down his esophagus as one washes out a clogged rain pipe. + +He emptied all the plates, all the dishes and all the bottles. Then, +intoxicated with drink and food, besotted, red in the face, shaken by +hiccoughs, his mind clouded and his speech thick, he unbuttoned his +uniform in order to breathe or he could not have taken a step. His eyes +closed, his mind became torpid; he leaned his heavy forehead on his +folded arms on the table and gradually lost all consciousness of things +and events. + +The last quarter of the moon above the trees in the park shed a faint +light on the landscape. It was the chill hour that precedes the dawn. + +Numerous silent shadows glided among the trees and occasionally a blade +of steel gleamed in the shadow as a ray of moonlight struck it. + +The quiet chateau stood there in dark outline. Only two windows were +still lighted up on the ground floor. + +Suddenly a voice thundered: + +"Forward! nom d'un nom! To the breach, my lads!" + +And in an instant the doors, shutters and window panes fell in beneath a +wave of men who rushed in, breaking, destroying everything, and took the +house by storm. In a moment fifty soldiers, armed to the teeth, bounded +into the kitchen, where Walter Schnaffs was peacefully sleeping, and +placing to his breast fifty loaded rifles, they overturned him, rolled +him on the floor, seized him and tied his head and feet together. + +He gasped in amazement, too besotted to understand, perplexed, bruised +and wild with fear. + +Suddenly a big soldier, covered with gold lace, put his foot on his +stomach, shouting: + +"You are my prisoner. Surrender!" + +The Prussian heard only the one word "prisoner" and he sighed, "Ya, ya, +ya." + +He was raised from the floor, tied in a chair and examined with lively +curiosity by his victors, who were blowing like whales. Several of them +sat down, done up with excitement and fatigue. + +He smiled, actually smiled, secure now that he was at last a prisoner. + +Another officer came into the room and said: + +"Colonel, the enemy has escaped; several seem to have been wounded. We +are in possession." + +The big officer, who was wiping his forehead, exclaimed: "Victory!" + +And he wrote in a little business memorandum book which he took from his +pocket: + +"After a desperate encounter the Prussians were obliged to beat a +retreat, carrying with them their dead and wounded, the number of whom is +estimated at fifty men. Several were taken prisoners." + +The young officer inquired: + +"What steps shall I take, colonel?" + +"We will retire in good order," replied the colonel, "to avoid having to +return and make another attack with artillery and a larger force of men." + +And he gave the command to set out. + +The column drew up in line in the darkness beneath the walls of the +chateau and filed out, a guard of six soldiers with revolvers in their +hands surrounding Walter Schnaffs, who was firmly bound. + +Scouts were sent ahead to reconnoitre. They advanced cautiously, halting +from time to time. + +At daybreak they arrived at the district of La Roche-Oysel, whose +national guard had accomplished this feat of arms. + +The uneasy and excited inhabitants were expecting them. When they saw +the prisoner's helmet tremendous shouts arose. The women raised their 10 +arms in wonder, the old people wept. An old grandfather threw his crutch +at the Prussian and struck the nose of one of their own defenders. + +The colonel roared: + +"See that the prisoner is secure!" + +At length they reached the town hall. The prison was opened and Walter +Schnaffs, freed from his bonds, cast into it. Two hundred armed men +mounted guard outside the building. + +Then, in spite of the indigestion that had been troubling him for some +time, the Prussian, wild with joy, began to dance about, to dance +frantically, throwing out his arms and legs and uttering wild shouts +until he fell down exhausted beside the wall. + +He was a prisoner-saved! + +That was how the Chateau de Charnpignet was taken from the enemy after +only six hours of occupation. + +Colonel Ratier, a cloth merchant, who had led the assault at the head of +a body of the national guard of La Roche-Oysel, was decorated with an +order. + + + + + + +AT SEA + +The following paragraphs recently appeared in the papers: + +"Boulogne-Sur-Mer, January 22.--Our correspondent writes: + +"A fearful accident has thrown our sea-faring population, which has +suffered so much in the last two years, into the greatest consternation. +The fishing smack commanded by Captain Javel, on entering the harbor was +wrecked on the rocks of the harbor breakwater. + +"In spite of the efforts of the life boat and the shooting of life lines +from the shore four sailors and the cabin boy were lost. + +"The rough weather continues. Fresh disasters are anticipated." + +Who is this Captain Javel? Is he the brother of the one-armed man? + +If the poor man tossed about in the waves and dead, perhaps, beneath his +wrecked boat, is the one I am thinking of, he took part, just eighteen +years ago, in another tragedy, terrible and simple as are all these +fearful tragedies of the sea. + +Javel, senior, was then master of a trawling smack. + +The trawling smack is the ideal fishing boat. So solidly built that it +fears no weather, with a round bottom, tossed about unceasingly on the +waves like a cork, always on top, always thrashed by the harsh salt winds +of the English Channel, it ploughs the sea unweariedly with bellying +sail, dragging along at its side a huge trawling net, which scours the +depths of the ocean, and detaches and gathers in all the animals asleep +in the rocks, the flat fish glued to the sand, the heavy crabs with their +curved claws, and the lobsters with their pointed mustaches. + +When the breeze is fresh and the sea choppy, the boat starts in to trawl. +The net is fastened all along a big log of wood clamped with iron and is +let down by two ropes on pulleys at either end of the boat. And the +boat, driven by the wind and the tide, draws along this apparatus which +ransacks and plunders the depths of the sea. + +Javel had on board his younger brother, four sailors and a cabin boy. He +had set sail from Boulogne on a beautiful day to go trawling. + +But presently a wind sprang up, and a hurricane obliged the smack to run +to shore. She gained the English coast, but the high sea broke against +the rocks and dashed on the beach, making it impossible to go into port, +filling all the harbor entrances with foam and noise and danger. + +The smack started off again, riding on the waves, tossed, shaken, +dripping, buffeted by masses of water, but game in spite of everything; +accustomed to this boisterous weather, which sometimes kept it roving +between the two neighboring countries without its being able to make port +in either. + +At length the hurricane calmed down just as they were in the open, and +although the sea was still high the captain gave orders to cast the net. + +So it was lifted overboard, and two men in the bows and two in the stern +began to unwind the ropes that held it. It suddenly touched bottom, but +a big wave made the boat heel, and Javel, junior, who was in the bows +directing the lowering of the net, staggered, and his arm was caught in +the rope which the shock had slipped from the pulley for an instant. He +made a desperate effort to raise the rope with the other hand, but the +net was down and the taut rope did not give. + +The man cried out in agony. They all ran to his aid. His brother left +the rudder. They all seized the rope, trying to free the arm it was +bruising. But in vain. "We must cut it," said a sailor, and he took +from his pocket a big knife, which, with two strokes, could save young +Javel's arm. + +But if the rope were cut the trawling net would be lost, and this net was +worth money, a great deal of money, fifteen hundred francs. And it +belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. + +"No, do not cut, wait, I will luff," he cried, in great distress. And he +ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, +being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented +also by the force of the tide and the wind. + +Javel, junior, had sunk on his knees, his teeth clenched, his eyes +haggard. He did not utter a word. His brother came back to him, in +dread of the sailor's knife. + +"Wait, wait," he said. "We will let down the anchor." + +They cast anchor, and then began to turn the capstan to loosen the +moorings of the net. They loosened them at length and disengaged the +imprisoned arm, in its bloody woolen sleeve. + +Young Javel seemed like an idiot. They took off his jersey and saw a +horrible sight, a mass of flesh from which the blood spurted as if from a +pump. Then the young man looked at his arm and murmured: "Foutu" (done +for). + +Then, as the blood was making a pool on the deck of the boat, one of the +sailors cried: "He will bleed to death, we must bind the vein." + +So they took a cord, a thick, brown, tarry cord, and twisting it around +the arm above the wound, tightened it with all their might. The blood +ceased to spurt by slow degrees, and, presently, stopped altogether. + +Young Javel rose, his arm hanging at his side. He took hold of it with +the other hand, raised it, turned it over, shook it. It was all mashed, +the bones broken, the muscles alone holding it together. He looked at it +sadly, reflectively. Then he sat down on a folded sail and his comrades +advised him to keep wetting the arm constantly to prevent it from +mortifying. + +They placed a pail of water beside him, and every few minutes he dipped a +glass into it and bathed the frightful wound, letting the clear water +trickle on to it. + +"You would be better in the cabin," said his brother. He went down, but +came up again in an hour, not caring to be alone. And, besides, he +preferred the fresh air. He sat down again on his sail and began to +bathe his arm. + +They made a good haul. The broad fish with their white bellies lay +beside him, quivering in the throes of death; he looked at them as he +continued to bathe his crushed flesh. + +As they were about to return to Boulogne the wind sprang up anew, and the +little boat resumed its mad course, bounding and tumbling about, shaking +up the poor wounded man. + +Night came on. The sea ran high until dawn. As the sun rose the English +coast was again visible, but, as the weather had abated a little, they +turned back towards the French coast, tacking as they went. + +Towards evening Javel, junior, called his comrades and showed them some +black spots, all the horrible tokens of mortification in the portion of +the arm below the broken bones. + +The sailors examined it, giving their opinion. + +"That might be the 'Black,'" thought one. + +"He should put salt water on it," said another. + +They brought some salt water and poured it on the wound. The injured man +became livid, ground his teeth and writhed a little, but did not exclaim. + +Then, as soon as the smarting had abated, he said to his brother: + +"Give me your knife." + +The brother handed it to him. + +"Hold my arm up, quite straight, and pull it." + +They did as he asked them. + +Then he began to cut off his arm. He cut gently, carefully, severing al +the tendons with this blade that was sharp as a razor. And, presently, +there was only a stump left. He gave a deep sigh and said: + +"It had to be done. It was done for." + +He seemed relieved and breathed loud. He then began again to pour water +on the stump of arm that remained. + +The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. + +When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm +and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also +examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it +over, and sniffing at it. + +"You must throw that into the sea at once," said his brother. + +But Javel, junior, got angry. + +"Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it +is my arm?" + +And he took and placed it between his feet. + +"It will putrefy, just the same," said the older brother. Then an idea +came to the injured man. In order to preserve the fish when the boat was +long at sea, they packed it in salt, in barrels. He asked: + +"Why can I not put it in pickle?" + +"Why, that's a fact," exclaimed the others. + +Then they emptied one of the barrels, which was full from the haul of the +last few days; and right at the bottom of the barrel they laid the +detached arm. They covered it with salt, and then put back the fish one +by one. + +One of the sailors said by way of joke: + +"I hope we do not sell it at auction." + +And everyone laughed, except the two Javels. + +The wind was still boisterous. They tacked within sight of Boulogne +until the following morning at ten o'clock. Young Javel continued to +bathe his wound. From time to time he rose and walked from one end to +the other of the boat. + +His brother, who was at the tiller, followed him with glances, and shook +his head. + +At last they ran into harbor. + +The doctor examined the wound and pronounced it to be in good condition. +He dressed it properly and ordered the patient to rest. But Javel would +not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once +to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross. + +It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved +in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel +he had brought for the purpose and took it home. + +His wife and children looked for a long time at this fragment of their +father, feeling the fingers, and removing the grains of salt that were +under the nails. Then they sent for a carpenter to make a little coffin. + +The next day the entire crew of the trawling smack followed the funeral +of the detached arm. The two brothers, side by side, led the procession; +the parish beadle carried the corpse under his arm. + +Javel, junior, gave up the sea. He obtained a small position on the +dock, and when he subsequently talked about his accident, he would say +confidentially to his auditors: + +"If my brother had been willing to cut away the net, I should still have +my arm, that is sure. But he was thinking only of his property." + + + + + + +MINUET + +Great misfortunes do not affect me very much, said John Bridelle, an old +bachelor who passed for a sceptic. I have seen war at quite close +quarters; I walked across corpses without any feeling of pity. The great +brutal facts of nature, or of humanity, may call forth cries of horror or +indignation, but do not cause us that tightening of the heart, that +shudder that goes down your spine at sight of certain little heartrending +episodes. + +The greatest sorrow that anyone can experience is certainly the loss of a +child, to a mother; and the loss of his mother, to a man. It is intense, +terrible, it rends your heart and upsets your mind; but one is healed of +these shocks, just as large bleeding wounds become healed. Certain +meetings, certain things half perceived, or surmised, certain secret +sorrows, certain tricks of fate which awake in us a whole world of +painful thoughts, which suddenly unclose to us the mysterious door of +moral suffering, complicated, incurable; all the deeper because they +appear benign, all the more bitter because they are intangible, all the +more tenacious because they appear almost factitious, leave in our souls +a sort of trail of sadness, a taste of bitterness, a feeling of +disenchantment, from which it takes a long time to free ourselves. + +I have always present to my mind two or three things that others would +surely not have noticed, but which penetrated my being like fine, sharp +incurable stings. + +You might not perhaps understand the emotion that I retained from these +hasty impressions. I will tell you one of them. She was very old, but +as lively as a young girl. It may be that my imagination alone is +responsible for my emotion. + +I am fifty. I was young then and studying law. I was rather sad, +somewhat of a dreamer, full of a pessimistic philosophy and did not care +much for noisy cafes, boisterous companions, or stupid girls. I rose +early and one of my chief enjoyments was to walk alone about eight +o'clock in the morning in the nursery garden of the Luxembourg. + +You people never knew that nursery garden. It was like a forgotten +garden of the last century, as pretty as the gentle smile of an old lady. +Thick hedges divided the narrow regular paths,--peaceful paths between +two walls of carefully trimmed foliage. The gardener's great shears were +pruning unceasingly these leafy partitions, and here and there one came +across beds of flowers, lines of little trees looking like schoolboys out +for a walk, companies of magnificent rose bushes, or regiments of fruit +trees. + +An entire corner of this charming spot was in habited by bees. Their +straw hives skillfully arranged at distances on boards had their +entrances--as large as the opening of a thimble--turned towards the sun, +and all along the paths one encountered these humming and gilded flies, +the true masters of this peaceful spot, the real promenaders of these +quiet paths. + +I came there almost every morning. I sat down on a bench and read. +Sometimes I let my book fall on my knees, to dream, to listen to the life +of Paris around me, and to enjoy the infinite repose of these old- +fashioned hedges. + +But I soon perceived that I was not the only one to frequent this spot as +soon as the gates were opened, and I occasionally met face to face, at a +turn in the path, a strange little old man. + +He wore shoes with silver buckles, knee-breeches, a snuff-colored frock +coat, a lace jabot, and an outlandish gray hat with wide brim and long- +haired surface that might have come out of the ark. + +He was thin, very thin, angular, grimacing and smiling. His bright eyes +were restless beneath his eyelids which blinked continuously. He always +carried in his hand a superb cane with a gold knob, which must have been +for him some glorious souvenir. + +This good man astonished me at first, then caused me the intensest +interest. I watched him through the leafy walls, I followed him at a +distance, stopping at a turn in the hedge so as not to be seen. + +And one morning when he thought he was quite alone, he began to make the +most remarkable motions. First he would give some little springs, then +make a bow; then, with his slim legs, he would give a lively spring in +the air, clapping his feet as he did so, and then turn round cleverly, +skipping and frisking about in a comical manner, smiling as if he had an +audience, twisting his poor little puppet-like body, bowing pathetic and +ridiculous little greetings into the empty air. He was dancing. + +I stood petrified with amazement, asking myself which of us was crazy, he +or I. + +He stopped suddenly, advanced as actors do on the stage, then bowed and +retreated with gracious smiles, and kissing his hand as actors do, his +trembling hand, to the two rows of trimmed bushes. + +Then he continued his walk with a solemn demeanor. + +After that I never lost sight of him, and each morning he began anew his +outlandish exercises. + +I was wildly anxious to speak to him. I decided to risk it, and one day, +after greeting him, I said: + +"It is a beautiful day, monsieur." + +He bowed. + +"Yes, sir, the weather is just as it used to be." + +A week later we were friends and I knew his history. He had been a +dancing master at the opera, in the time of Louis XV. His beautiful cane +was a present from the Comte de Clermont. And when we spoke about +dancing he never stopping talking. + +One day he said to me: + +"I married La Castris, monsieur. I will introduce you to her if you wish +it, but she does not get here till later. This garden, you see, is our +delight and our life. It is all that remains of former days. It seems +as though we could not exist if we did not have it. It is old and +distingue, is it not? I seem to breathe an air here that has not changed +since I was young. My wife and I pass all our afternoons here, but I +come in the morning because I get up early." + +As soon as I had finished luncheon I returned to the Luxembourg, and +presently perceived my friend offering his arm ceremoniously to a very +old little lady dressed in black, to whom he introduced me. It was La +Castris, the great dancer, beloved by princes, beloved by the king, +beloved by all that century of gallantry that seems to have left behind +it in the world an atmosphere of love. + +We sat down on a bench. It was the month of May. An odor of flowers +floated in the neat paths; a hot sun glided its rays between the branches +and covered us with patches of light. The black dress of La Castris +seemed to be saturated with sunlight. + +The garden was empty. We heard the rattling of vehicles in the distance. + +"Tell me," I said to the old dancer, "what was the minuet?" + +He gave a start. + +"The minuet, monsieur, is the queen of dances, and the dance of queens, +do you understand? Since there is no longer any royalty, there is no +longer any minuet." + +And he began in a pompous manner a long dithyrambic eulogy which I could +not understand. I wanted to have the steps, the movements, the +positions, explained to me. He became confused, was amazed at his +inability to make me understand, became nervous and worried. + +Then suddenly, turning to his old companion who had remained silent and +serious, he said: + +"Elise, would you like--say--would you like, it would be very nice of +you, would you like to show this gentleman what it was?" + +She turned eyes uneasily in all directions, then rose without saying a +word and took her position opposite him. + +Then I witnessed an unheard-of thing. + +They advanced and retreated with childlike grimaces, smiling, swinging +each other, bowing, skipping about like two automaton dolls moved by some +old mechanical contrivance, somewhat damaged, but made by a clever +workman according to the fashion of his time. + +And I looked at them, my heart filled with extraordinary emotions, my +soul touched with an indescribable melancholy. I seemed to see before me +a pathetic and comical apparition, the out-of-date ghost of a former +century. + +They suddenly stopped. They had finished all the figures of the dance. +For some seconds they stood opposite each other, smiling in an +astonishing manner. Then they fell on each other's necks sobbing. + +I left for the provinces three days later. I never saw them again. +When I returned to Paris, two years later, the nursery had been +destroyed. What became of them, deprived of the dear garden of former +days, with its mazes, its odor of the past, and the graceful windings of +its hedges? + +Are they dead? Are they wandering among modern streets like hopeless +exiles? Are they dancing--grotesque spectres--a fantastic minuet in the +moonlight, amid the cypresses of a cemetery, along the pathways bordered +by graves? + +Their memory haunts me, obsesses me, torments me, remains with me like a +wound. Why? I do not know. + +No doubt you think that very absurd? + + + + + + +THE SON + +The two old friends were walking in the garden in bloom, where spring was +bringing everything to life. + +One was a senator, the other a member of the French Academy, both serious +men, full of very logical but solemn arguments, men of note and +reputation. + +They talked first of politics, exchanging opinions; not on ideas, but on +men, personalities in this regard taking the predominance over ability. +Then they recalled some memories. Then they walked along in silence, +enervated by the warmth of the air. + +A large bed of wallflowers breathed out a delicate sweetness. A mass of +flowers of all species and color flung their fragrance to the breeze, +while a cytisus covered with yellow clusters scattered its fine pollen +abroad, a golden cloud, with an odor of honey that bore its balmy seed +across space, similar to the sachet-powders of perfumers. + +The senator stopped, breathed in the cloud of floating pollen, looked at +the fertile shrub, yellow as the sun, whose seed was floating in the air, +and said: + +"When one considers that these imperceptible fragrant atoms will create +existences at a hundred leagues from here, will send a thrill through the +fibres and sap of female trees and produce beings with roots, growing +from a germ, just as we do, mortal like ourselves, and who will be +replaced by other beings of the same order, like ourselves again!" + +And, standing in front of the brilliant cytisus, whose live pollen was +shaken off by each breath of air, the senator added: + +"Ah, old fellow, if you had to keep count of all your children you would +be mightily embarrassed. Here is one who generates freely, and then lets +them go without a pang and troubles himself no more about them." + +"We do the same, my friend," said the academician. + +"Yes, I do not deny it; we let them go sometimes," resumed the senator, +"but we are aware that we do, and that constitutes our superiority." + +"No, that is not what I mean," said the other, shaking his head. +"You see, my friend, that there is scarcely a man who has not some +children that he does not know, children--'father unknown'--whom he has +generated almost unconsciously, just as this tree reproduces. + +"If we had to keep account of our amours, we should be just as +embarrassed as this cytisus which you apostrophized would be in counting +up his descendants, should we not? + +"From eighteen to forty years, in fact, counting in every chance cursory +acquaintanceship, we may well say that we have been intimate with two or +three hundred women. + +"Well, then, my friend, among this number can you be sure that you have +not had children by at least one of them, and that you have not in the +streets, or in the bagnio, some blackguard of a son who steals from and +murders decent people, i.e., ourselves; or else a daughter in some +disreputable place, or, if she has the good fortune to be deserted by her +mother, as cook in some family? + +"Consider, also, that almost all those whom we call 'prostitutes' have +one or two children of whose paternal parentage they are ignorant, +generated by chance at the price of ten or twenty francs. In every +business there is profit and loss. These wildings constitute the 'loss' +in their profession. Who generated them? You--I--we all did, the men +called 'gentlemen'! They are the consequences of our jovial little +dinners, of our gay evenings, of those hours when our comfortable +physical being impels us to chance liaisons. + +"Thieves, marauders, all these wretches, in fact, are our children. +And that is better for us than if we were their children, for those +scoundrels generate also! + +"I have in my mind a very horrible story that I will relate to you. It +has caused me incessant remorse, and, further than that, a continual +doubt, a disquieting uncertainty, that, at times, torments me +frightfully. + +"When I was twenty-five I undertook a walking tour through Brittany with +one of my friends, now a member of the cabinet. + +"After walking steadily for fifteen or twenty days and visiting the +Cotes-du-Nord and part of Finistere we reached Douarnenez. From there we +went without halting to the wild promontory of Raz by the bay of Les +Trepaases, and passed the night in a village whose name ends in 'of.' +The next morning a strange lassitude kept my friend in bed; I say bed +from habit, for our couch consisted simply of two bundles of straw. + +"It would never do to be ill in this place. So I made him get up, and we +reached Andierne about four or five o'clock in the evening. + +"The following day he felt a little better, and we set out again. But on +the road he was seized with intolerable pain, and we could scarcely get +as far as Pont Labbe. + +"Here, at least, there was an inn. My friend went to bed, and the +doctor, who had been sent for from Quimper, announced that he had a high +fever, without being able to determine its nature. + +"Do you know Pont Labbe? No? Well, then, it is the most Breton of all +this Breton Brittany, which extends from the promontory of Raz to the +Morbihan, of this land which contains the essence of the Breton manners, +legends and customs. Even to-day this corner of the country has scarcely +changed. I say 'even to-day,' for I now go there every year, alas! + +"An old chateau laves the walls of its towers in a great melancholy pond, +melancholy and frequented by flights of wild birds. It has an outlet in +a river on which boats can navigate as far as the town. In the narrow +streets with their old-time houses the men wear big hats, embroidered +waistcoats and four coats, one on top of the other; the inside one, as +large as your hand, barely covering the shoulder-blades, and the outside +one coming to just above the seat of the trousers. + +"The girls, tall, handsome and fresh have their bosoms crushed in a cloth +bodice which makes an armor, compresses them, not allowing one even to +guess at their robust and tortured neck. They also wear a strange +headdress. On their temples two bands embroidered in colors frame their +face, inclosing the hair, which falls in a shower at the back of their +heads, and is then turned up and gathered on top of the head under a +singular cap, often woven with gold or silver thread. + +"The servant at our inn was eighteen at most, with very blue eyes, a pale +blue with two tiny black pupils, short teeth close together, which she +showed continually when she laughed, and which seemed strong enough to +grind granite. + +"She did not know a word of French, speaking only Breton, as did most of +her companions. + +"As my friend did not improve much, and although he had no definite +malady, the doctor forbade him to continue his journey yet, ordering +complete rest. I spent my days with him, and the little maid would come +in incessantly, bringing either my dinner or some herb tea. + +"I teased her a little, which seemed to amuse her, but we did not chat, +of course, as we could not understand each other. + +"But one night, after I had stayed quite late with my friend and was +going back to my room, I passed the girl, who was going to her room. +It was just opposite my open door, and, without reflection, and more for +fun than anything else, I abruptly seized her round the waist, and before +she recovered from her astonishment I had thrown her down and locked her +in my room. She looked at me, amazed, excited, terrified, not daring to +cry out for fear of a scandal and of being probably driven out, first by +her employers and then, perhaps, by her father. + +"I did it as a joke at first. She defended herself bravely, and at the +first chance she ran to the door, drew back the bolt and fled. + +"I scarcely saw her for several days. She would not let me come near +her. But when my friend was cured and we were to get out on our travels +again I saw her coming into my room about midnight the night before our +departure, just after I had retired. + +"She threw herself into my arms and embraced me passionately, giving me +all the assurances of tenderness and despair that a woman can give when +she does not know a word of our language. + +"A week later I had forgotten this adventure, so common and frequent when +one is travelling, the inn servants being generally destined to amuse +travellers in this way. + +"I was thirty before I thought of it again, or returned to Pont Labbe. + +"But in 1876 I revisited it by chance during a trip into Brittany, which +I made in order to look up some data for a book and to become permeated +with the atmosphere of the different places. + +"Nothing seemed changed. The chateau still laved its gray wall in the +pond outside the little town; the inn was the same, though it had been +repaired, renovated and looked more modern. As I entered it I was +received by two young Breton girls of eighteen, fresh and pretty, bound +up in their tight cloth bodices, with their silver caps and wide +embroidered bands on their ears. + +"It was about six o'clock in the evening. I sat down to dinner, and as +the host was assiduous in waiting on me himself, fate, no doubt, impelled +me to say: + +"'Did you know the former proprietors of this house? I spent about ten +days here thirty years ago. I am talking old times.' + +"'Those were my parents, monsieur,' he replied. + +"Then I told him why we had stayed over at that time, how my comrade had +been delayed by illness. He did not let me finish. + +"'Oh, I recollect perfectly. I was about fifteen or sixteen. You slept +in the room at the end and your friend in the one I have taken for +myself, overlooking the street.' + +"It was only then that the recollection of the little maid came vividly +to my mind. I asked : 'Do you remember a pretty little servant who was +then in your father's employ, and who had, if my memory does not deceive +me, pretty eyes and freshlooking teeth?' + +"'Yes, monsieur; she died in childbirth some time after.' + +"And, pointing to the courtyard where a thin, lame man was stirring up +the manure, he added: + +"'That is her son.' + +"I began to laugh: + +"'He is not handsome and does not look much like his mother. No doubt he +looks like his father.' + +"'That is very possible,' replied the innkeeper; 'but we never knew whose +child it was. She died without telling any one, and no one here knew of +her having a beau. Every one was hugely astonished when they heard she +was enceinte, and no one would believe it.' + +"A sort of unpleasant chill came over me, one of those painful surface +wounds that affect us like the shadow of an impending sorrow. And I +looked at the man in the yard. He had just drawn water for the horses +and was carrying two buckets, limping as he walked, with a painful effort +of his shorter leg. His clothes were ragged, he was hideously dirty, +with long yellow hair, so tangled that it looked like strands of rope +falling down at either side of his face. + +"'He is not worth much,' continued the innkeeper; 'we have kept him for +charity's sake. Perhaps he would have turned out better if he had been +brought up like other folks. But what could one do, monsieur? No +father, no mother, no money! My parents took pity on him, but he was not +their child, you understand.' + +"I said nothing. + +"I slept in my old room, and all night long I thought of this frightful +stableman, saying to myself: 'Supposing it is my own son? Could I have +caused that girl's death and procreated this being? It was quite +possible!' + +"I resolved to speak to this man and to find out the exact date of his +birth. A variation of two months would set my doubts at rest. + +"I sent for him the next day. But he could not speak French. He looked +as if he could not understand anything, being absolutely ignorant of his +age, which I had inquired of him through one of the maids. He stood +before me like an idiot, twirling his hat in 'his knotted, disgusting +hands, laughing stupidly, with something of his mother's laugh in the +corners of his mouth and of his eyes. + +"The landlord, appearing on the scene, went to look for the birth +certificate of this wretched being. He was born eight months and twenty- +six days after my stay at Pont Labbe, for I recollect perfectly that we +reached Lorient on the fifteenth of August. The certificate contained +this description: 'Father unknown.' The mother called herself Jeanne +Kerradec. + +"Then my heart began to beat rapidly. I could not utter a word, for I +felt as if I were choking. I looked at this animal whose long yellow +hair reminded me of a straw heap, and the beggar, embarrassed by my gaze, +stopped laughing, turned his head aside, and wanted to get away. + +"All day long I wandered beside the little river, giving way to painful +reflections. But what was the use of reflection? I could be sure of +nothing. For hours and hours I weighed all the pros and cons in favor of +or against the probability of my being the father, growing nervous over +inexplicable suppositions, only to return incessantly to the same +horrible uncertainty, then to the still more atrocious conviction that +this man was my son. + +"I could eat no dinner, and went to my room. + +I lay awake for a long time, and when I finally fell asleep I was haunted +by horrible visions. I saw this laborer laughing in my face and calling +me 'papa.' Then he changed into a dog and bit the calves of my legs, and +no matter how fast I ran he still followed me, and instead of barking, +talked and reviled me. Then he appeared before my colleagues at the +Academy, who had assembled to decide whether I was really his father; and +one of them cried out: 'There can be no doubt about it! See how he +resembles him.' And, indeed, I could see that this monster looked like +me. And I awoke with this idea fixed in my mind and with an insane +desire to see the man again and assure myself whether or not we had +similar features. + +"I joined him as he was going to mass (it was Sunday) and I gave him five +francs as I gazed at him anxiously. He began to laugh in an idiotic +manner, took the money, and then, embarrassed afresh at my gaze, he ran +off, after stammering an almost inarticulate word that, no doubt, meant +'thank you.' + +"My day passed in the same distress of mind as on the previous night. +I sent for the landlord, and, with the greatest caution, skill and tact, +I told him that I was interested in this poor creature, so abandoned by +every one and deprived of everything, and I wished to do something for +him. + +"But the man replied: 'Oh, do not think of it, monsieur; he is of no +account; you will only cause yourself annoyance. I employ him to clean +out the stable, and that is all he can do. I give him his board and let +him sleep with the horses. He needs nothing more. If you have an old +pair of trousers, you might give them to him, but they will be in rags in +a week.' + +"I did not insist, intending to think it over. + +"The poor wretch came home that evening frightfully drunk, came near +setting fire to the house, killed a horse by hitting it with a pickaxe, +and ended up by lying down to sleep in the mud in the midst of the +pouring rain, thanks to my donation. + +"They begged me next day not to give him any more money. Brandy drove +him crazy, and as soon as he had two sous in his pocket he would spend +it in drink. The landlord added: 'Giving him money is like trying to +kill him.' The man had never, never in his life had more than a few +centimes, thrown to him by travellers, and he knew of no destination for +this metal but the wine shop. + +"I spent several hours in my room with an open book before me which I +pretended to read, but in reality looking at this animal, my son! my son! +trying to discover if he looked anything like me. After careful scrutiny +I seemed to recognize a similarity in the lines of the forehead and the +root of the nose, and I was soon convinced that there was a resemblance, +concealed by the difference in garb and the man's hideous head of hair. + +"I could not stay here any longer without arousing suspicion, and I went +away, my heart crushed, leaving with the innkeeper some money to soften +the existence of his servant. + +"For six years now I have lived with this idea in my mind, this horrible +uncertainty, this abominable suspicion. And each year an irresistible +force takes me back to Pont Labbe. Every year I condemn myself to the +torture of seeing this animal raking the manure, imagining that he +resembles me, and endeavoring, always vainly, to render him some +assistance. And each year I return more uncertain, more tormented, more +worried. + +"I tried to have him taught, but he is a hopeless idiot. I tried to make +his life less hard. He is an irreclaimable drunkard, and spends in drink +all the money one gives him, and knows enough to sell his new clothes in +order to get brandy. + +"I tried to awaken his master's sympathy, so that he should look after +him, offering to pay him for doing so. The innkeeper, finally surprised, +said, very wisely: 'All that you do for him, monsieur, will only help to +destroy him. He must be kept like a prisoner. As soon as he has any +spare time, or any comfort, he becomes wicked. If you wish to do good, +there is no lack of abandoned children, but select one who will +appreciate your attention.' + +"What could I say? + +"If I allowed the slightest suspicion of the doubts that tortured me to +escape, this idiot would assuredly become cunning, in order to blackmail +me, to compromise me and ruin me. He would call out 'papa,' as in my +dream. + +"And I said to myself that I had killed the mother and lost this +atrophied creature, this larva of the stable, born and raised amid the +manure, this man who, if brought up like others, would have been like +others. + +"And you cannot imagine what a strange, embarrassed and intolerable +feeling comes over me when he stands before me and I reflect that he came +from myself, that he belongs to me through the intimate bond that links +father and son, that, thanks to the terrible law of heredity, he is my +own self in a thousand ways, in his blood and his flesh, and that he has +even the same germs of disease, the same leaven of emotions. + +"I have an incessant restless, distressing longing to see him, and the +sight of him causes me intense suffering, as I look down from my window +and watch him for hours removing and carting the horse manure, saying to +myself: 'That is my son.' + +"And I sometimes feel an irresistible longing to embrace him. I have +never even touched his dirty hand." + +The academician was silent. His companion, a tactful man, murmured: +"Yes, indeed, we ought to take a closer interest in children who have no +father." + +A gust of wind passing through the tree shook its yellow clusters, +enveloping in a fragrant and delicate mist the two old men, who inhaled +in the fragrance with deep breaths. + +The senator added: "It is good to be twenty-five and even to have +children like that." + + + + + + +THAT PIG OF A MORIN + +"Here, my friend," I said to Labarbe, "you have just repeated those five +words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I never hear Morin's name +mentioned without his being called a pig?" + +Labarbe, who is a deputy, looked at me with his owl-like eyes and said: +"Do you mean to say that you do not know Morin's story and you come from +La Rochelle?" I was obliged to declare that I did not know Morin's story, +so Labarbe rubbed his hands and began his recital. + +"You knew Morin, did you not, and you remember his large linen-draper's +shop on the Quai de la Rochelle?" + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"Well, then. You must know that in 1862 or '63 Morin went to spend a +fortnight in Paris for pleasure; or for his pleasures, but under the +pretext of renewing his stock, and you also know what a fortnight in +Paris means to a country shopkeeper; it fires his blood. The theatre +every evening, women's dresses rustling up against you and continual +excitement; one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in +tights, actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all +nearly within reach of one's hands, without daring, or being able, to +touch them, and one scarcely tastes food. When one leaves the city one's +heart is still all in a flutter and one's mind still exhilarated by a +sort of longing for kisses which tickles one's lips. + +"Morin was in that condition when he took his ticket for La Rochelle by +the eight-forty night express. As he was walking up and down the +waiting-room at the station he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady +who was kissing an old one. She had her veil up, and Morin murmured with +delight: 'By Jove what a pretty woman!' + +"When she had said 'good-by' to the old lady she went into the waiting- +room, and Morin followed her; then she went on the platform and Morin +still followed her; then she got into an empty carriage, and he again +followed her. There were very few travellers on the express. The engine +whistled and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured her +with his eyes. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty and was fair, +tall, with a bold look. She wrapped a railway rug round her and +stretched herself on the seat to sleep. + +"Morin asked himself: 'I wonder who she is?' And a thousand conjectures, +a thousand projects went through his head. He said to himself: 'So many +adventures are told as happening on railway journeys that this may be one +that is going to present itself to me. Who knows? A piece of good luck +like that happens very suddenly, and perhaps I need only be a little +venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: "Audacity, more audacity and +always audacity"? If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does +not matter. But then I have no audacity, and that is the difficulty. +Oh! If one only knew, if one could only read people's minds! I will bet +that every day one passes by magnificent opportunities without knowing +it, though a gesture would be enough to let me know her mind.' + +"Then he imagined to himself combinations which conducted him to triumph. +He pictured some chivalrous deed or merely some slight service which he +rendered her, a lively, gallant conversation which ended in a +declaration. + +"But he could find no opening, had no pretext, and he waited for some +fortunate circumstance, with his heart beating and his mind topsy-turvy. +The night passed and the pretty girl still slept, while Morin was +meditating his own fall. The day broke and soon the first ray of +sunlight appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face +of the sleeping girl and woke her. She sat up, looked at the country, +then at Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an +engaging and bright look, and Morin trembled. Certainly that smile was +intended for him; it was discreet invitation, the signal which he was +waiting for. That smile meant to say: 'How stupid, what a ninny, what a +dolt, what a donkey you are, to have sat there on your seat like a post +all night! + +"'Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the +whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great +simpleton!' + +"She was still smiling as she looked at him; she even began to laugh; and +he lost his head trying to find something suitable to say, no matter +what. But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a +coward's courage, he said to himself: + +'So much the worse, I will risk everything,' and suddenly, without the +slightest warning, he went toward her, his arms extended, his lips +protruding, and, seizing her in his arms, he kissed her. + +"She sprang up immediately with a bound, crying out: 'Help! help!' and +screaming with terror; and then she opened the carriage door and waved +her arm out, mad with terror and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was +almost distracted and feeling sure that she would throw herself out, held +her by the skirt and stammered: 'Oh, madame! oh, madame!' + +"The train slackened speed and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the +young woman's frantic signals. She threw herself into their arms, +stammering: 'That man wanted--wanted--to--to--' And then she fainted. + +"They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin. +When the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her +consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it +up. The poor linen draper did not reach home till night, with a +prosecution hanging over him for an outrage to morals in a public place. + + +II + +"At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet +Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure. +he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not hide my +opinion from him, but said to him: 'You are no better than a pig. No +decent man behaves like that.' + +"He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade +ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends +scandalized and taking no notice of him. In the end he excited my pity, +and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little +man, to give us his advice. + +"He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine, +and so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate. He told me +that the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle +Henriette Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in +Paris and spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very +respectable tradespeople in Mauze. What made Morin's case all the more +serious was that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public +official had consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were +withdrawn, so we must try and get him to do this. + +"I went back to Morin's and found him in bed, ill with excitement and +distress. His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him +continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me: 'So you +have come to see that pig of a Morin. Well, there he is, the darling!' +And she planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips. +I told him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl's +uncle and aunt. It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the +poor devil never ceased repeating: 'I assure you I did not even kiss her; +no, not even that. I will take my oath to it!' + +"I replied: 'It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.' And I took a +thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I +did not care to venture to her uncle's house alone, I begged Rivet to go +with me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for +he had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon. So two hours +later we rang at the door of a pretty country house. An attractive girl +came and opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and +I said to Rivet in a low voice: 'Confound it! I begin to understand +Morin!' + +"The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent +political coreligionist of ours. He received us with open arms and +congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two +editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me: 'I think we shall be +able to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.' + +"The niece had left the room and I introduced the delicate subject. +I waved the spectre of scandal before his eyes; I accentuated the +inevitable depreciation which the young lady would suffer if such an +affair became known, for nobody would believe in a simple kiss, and the +good man seemed undecided, but he could not make up his mind about +anything without his wife, who would not be in until late that evening. +But suddenly he uttered an exclamation of triumph: 'Look here, I have an +excellent idea; I will keep you here to dine and sleep, and when my wife +comes home I hope we shall be able to arrange matters: + +"Rivet resisted at first, but the wish to extricate that pig of a Morin +decided him, and we accepted the invitation, and the uncle got up +radiant, called his niece and proposed that we should take a stroll in +his grounds, saying: 'We will leave serious matters until the morning.' +Rivet and he began to talk politics, while I soon found myself lagging a +little behind with 'the girl who was really charming--charming--and with +the greatest precaution I began to speak to her about her adventure and +try to make her my ally. She did not, however, appear the least +confused, and listened to me like a person who was enjoying the whole +thing very much. + +"I said to her: 'Just think, mademoiselle, how unpleasant it will be for +you. You will have to appear in court, to encounter malicious looks, to +speak before everybody and to recount that unfortunate occurrence in the +railway carriage in public. Do you not think, between ourselves, that it +would have been much better for you to have put that dirty scoundrel back +in his place without calling for assistance, and merely to change your +carriage?' She began to laugh and replied: 'What you say is quite true, +but what could I do? I was frightened, and when one is frightened one +does not stop to reason with one's self. As soon as I realized the +situation I was very sorry, that I had called out, but then it was too +late. You must also remember that the idiot threw himself upon me like a +madman, without saying a word and looking like a lunatic. I did not even +know what he wanted of me.' + +"She looked me full in the face without being nervous or intimidated and +I said to myself: 'She is a queer sort of girl, that: I can quite see how +that pig Morin came to make a mistake,' and I went on jokingly: 'Come, +mademoiselle, confess that he was excusable, for, after all, a man cannot +find himself opposite such a pretty girl as you are without feeling a +natural desire to kiss her.' + +"She laughed more than ever and showed her teeth and said: 'Between the +desire and the act, monsieur, there is room for respect.' It was an odd +expression to use, although it was not very clear, and I asked abruptly: +'Well, now, suppose I were to kiss you, what would you do?' She stopped +to look at me from head to foot and then said calmly: 'Oh, you? That is +quite another matter.' + +"I knew perfectly well, by Jove, that it was not the same thing at all, +as everybody in the neighborhood called me 'Handsome Labarbe'--I was +thirty years old in those days--but I asked her: 'And why, pray?' She +shrugged her shoulders and replied: 'Well! because you are not so stupid +as he is.' And then she added, looking at me slyly: 'Nor so ugly, +either: And before she could make a movement to avoid me I had implanted +a hearty kiss on her cheek. She sprang aside, but it was too late, and +then she said: 'Well, you are not very bashful, either! But don't do +that sort of thing again.' + +"I put on a humble look and said in a low voice: 'Oh, mademoiselle! as +for me, if I long for one thing more than another it is to be summoned +before a magistrate for the same reason as Morin.' + +"'Why?' she asked. And, looking steadily at her, I replied: 'Because you +are one of the most beautiful creatures living; because it would be an +honor and a glory for me to have wished to offer you violence, and +because people would have said, after seeing you: "Well, Labarbe has +richly deserved what he has got, but he is a lucky fellow, all the +same.'" + +"She began to laugh heartily again and said: 'How funny you are!' And +she had not finished the word 'funny' before I had her in my arms and was +kissing her ardently wherever I could find a place, on her forehead, on +her eyes, on her lips occasionally, on her cheeks, all over her head, +some part of which she was obliged to leave exposed, in spite of herself, +to defend the others; but at last she managed to release herself, +blushing and angry. 'You are very unmannerly, monsieur,' she said, 'and +I am sorry I listened to you.' + +"I took her hand in some confusion and stammered out: 'I beg your pardon. +I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I have offended you; I have acted like +a brute! Do not be angry with me for what I have done. If you knew--' +I vainly sought for some excuse, and in a few moments she said: 'There is +nothing for me to know, monsieur.' But I had found something to say, and +I cried: 'Mademoiselle, I love you!' + +"She was really surprised and raised her eyes to look at me, and I went +on: 'Yes, mademoiselle, and pray listen to me. I do not know Morin, and +I do not care anything about him. It does not matter to me the least if +he is committed for trial and locked up meanwhile. I saw you here last +year, and I was so taken with you that the thought of you has never left +me since, and it does not matter to me whether you believe me or not. +I thought you adorable, and the remembrance of you took such a hold on me +that I longed to see you again, and so I made use of that fool Morin as a +pretext, and here I am. Circumstances have made me exceed the due limits +of respect, and I can only beg you to pardon me.' + +"She looked at me to see if I was in earnest and was ready to smile +again. Then she murmured: 'You humbug!' But I raised my hand and said +in a sincere voice (and I really believe that I was sincere): 'I swear to +you that I am speaking the truth,' and she replied quite simply: 'Don't +talk nonsense!' + +"We were alone, quite alone, as Rivet and her uncle had disappeared down +a sidewalk, and I made her a real declaration of love, while I squeezed +and kissed her hands, and she listened to it as to something new and +agreeable, without exactly knowing how much of it she was to believe, +while in the end I felt agitated, and at last really myself believed what +I said. I was pale, anxious and trembling, and I gently put my arm round +her waist and spoke to her softly, whispering into the little curls over +her ears. She seemed in a trance, so absorbed in thought was she. + +"Then her hand touched mine, and she pressed it, and I gently squeezed +her waist with a trembling, and gradually firmer, grasp. She did not +move now, and I touched her cheek with my lips, and suddenly without +seeking them my lips met hers. It was a long, long kiss, and it would +have lasted longer still if I had not heard a hm! hm! just behind me, at +which she made her escape through the bushes, and turning round I saw +Rivet coming toward me, and, standing in the middle of the path, he said +without even smiling: 'So that is the way you settle the affair of that +pig of a Morin.' And I replied conceitedly: 'One does what one can, my +dear fellow. But what about the uncle? How have you got on with him? +I will answer for the niece.' 'I have not been so fortunate with him,' +he replied. + +"Whereupon I took his arm and we went indoors, + + +III + +"Dinner made me lose my head altogether. I sat beside her, and my hand +continually met hers under the tablecloth, my foot touched hers and our +glances met. + +"After dinner we took a walk by moonlight, and I whispered all the tender +things I could think of to her. I held her close to me, kissed her every +moment, while her uncle and Rivet were arguing as they walked in front of +us. They went in, and soon a messenger brought a telegram from her aunt, +saying that she would not return until the next morning at seven o'clock +by the first train. + +"'Very well, Henriette,' her uncle said, 'go and show the gentlemen their +rooms.' She showed Rivet his first, and he whispered to me: 'There was no +danger of her taking us into yours first.' Then she took me to my room, +and as soon as she was alone with me I took her in my arms again and +tried to arouse her emotion, but when she saw the danger she escaped out +of the room, and I retired very much put out and excited and feeling +rather foolish, for I knew that I should not sleep much, and I was +wondering how I could have committed such a mistake, when there was a +gentle knock at my door, and on my asking who was there a low voice +replied: 'I' + +"I dressed myself quickly and opened the door, and she came in. +'I forgot to ask you what you take in the morning,' she said; 'chocolate, +tea or coffee?' I put my arms round her impetuously and said, devouring +her with kisses: 'I will take--I will take--' + +"But she freed herself from my arms, blew out my candle and disappeared +and left me alone in the dark, furious, trying to find some matches, and +not able to do so. At last I got some and I went into the passage, +feeling half mad, with my candlestick in my hand. + +"What was I about to do? I did not stop to reason, I only wanted to find +her, and I would. I went a few steps without reflecting, but then I +suddenly thought: 'Suppose I should walk into the uncle's room what +should I say?' And I stood still, with my head a void and my heart +beating. But in a few moments I thought of an answer: 'Of course, I +shall say that I was looking for Rivet's room to speak to him about an +important matter,' and I began to inspect all the doors, trying to find +hers, and at last I took hold of a handle at a venture, turned it and +went in. There was Henriette, sitting on her bed and looking at me in +tears. So I gently turned the key, and going up to her on tiptoe I said: +'I forgot to ask you for something to read, mademoiselle.' + +"I was stealthily returning to my room when a rough hand seized me and a +voice--it was Rivet's -whispered in my ear: 'So you have not yet quite +settled that affair of Morin's?' + +"At seven o'clock the next morning Henriette herself brought me a cup of +chocolate. I never have drunk anything like it, soft, velvety, perfumed, +delicious. I could hardly take away my lips from the cup, and she had +hardly left the room when Rivet came in. He seemed nervous and +irritable, like a man who had not slept, and he said to me crossly: + +'If you go on like this you will end by spoiling the affair of that pig +of a Morin!' + +"At eight o'clock the aunt arrived. Our discussion was very short, for +they withdrew their complaint, and I left five hundred francs for the +poor of the town. They wanted to keep us for the day, and they arranged +an excursion to go and see some ruins. Henriette made signs to me to +stay, behind her parents' back, and I accepted, but Rivet was determined +to go, and though I took him aside and begged and prayed him to do this +for me, he appeared quite exasperated and kept saying to me: 'I have had +enough of that pig of a Morin's affair, do you hear?' + +"Of course I was obliged to leave also, and it was one of the hardest +moments of my life. I could have gone on arranging that business as long +as I lived, and when we were in the railway carriage, after shaking hands +with her in silence, I said to Rivet: 'You are a mere brute!' And he +replied: 'My dear fellow, you were beginning to annoy me confoundedly.' + +"On getting to the Fanal office, I saw a crowd waiting for us, and as +soon as they saw us they all exclaimed: 'Well, have you settled the +affair of that pig of a Morin?' All La Rochelle was excited about it, +and Rivet, who had got over his ill-humor on the journey, had great +difficulty in keeping himself from laughing as he said: 'Yes, we have +managed it, thanks to Labarbe: And we went to Morin's. + +"He was sitting in an easy-chair with mustard plasters on his legs and +cold bandages on his head, nearly dead with misery. He was coughing with +the short cough of a dying man, without any one knowing how he had caught +it, and his wife looked at him like a tigress ready to eat him, and as +soon as he saw us he trembled so violently as to make his hands and knees +shake, so I said to him immediately: 'It is all settled, you dirty scamp, +but don't do such a thing again.' + +"He got up, choking, took my hands and kissed them as if they had +belonged to a prince, cried, nearly fainted, embraced Rivet and even +kissed Madame Morin, who gave him such a push as to send him staggering +back into his chair; but he never got over the blow; his mind had been +too much upset. In all the country round, moreover, he was called +nothing but 'that pig of a Morin,' and that epithet went through him like +a sword-thrust every time he heard it. When a street boy called after +him 'Pig!' he turned his head instinctively. His friends also +overwhelmed him with horrible jokes and used to ask him, whenever they +were eating ham, 'Is it a bit of yourself?' He died two years later. + +"As for myself, when I was a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies in +1875, I called on the new notary at Fousserre, Monsieur Belloncle, to +solicit his vote, and a tall, handsome and evidently wealthy lady +received me. 'You do not know me again?' she said. And I stammered out: +'Why--no--madame.' 'Henriette Bonnel.' 'Ah!' And I felt myself turning +pale, while she seemed perfectly at her ease and looked at me with a +smile. + +"As soon as she had left me alone with her husband he took both my hands, +and, squeezing them as if he meant to crush them, he said: 'I have been +intending to go and see you for a long time, my dear sir, for my wife has +very often talked to me about you. I know--yes, I know under what +painful circumstances you made her acquaintance, and I know also how +perfectly you behaved, how full of delicacy, tact and devotion you showed +yourself in the affair--' He hesitated and then said in a lower tone, as +if he had been saying something low and coarse, 'in the affair of that +pig of a Morin.'" + + + + + + +SAINT ANTHONY + +They called him Saint Anthony, because his name was Anthony, and also, +perhaps, because he was a good fellow, jovial, a lover of practical +jokes, a tremendous eater and a heavy drinker and a gay fellow, although +he was sixty years old. + +He was a big peasant of the district of Caux, with a red face, large +chest and stomach, and perched on two legs that seemed too slight for the +bulk of his body. + +He was a widower and lived alone with his two men servants and a maid on +his farm, which he conducted with shrewd economy. He was careful of his +own interests, understood business and the raising of cattle, and +farming. His two sons and his three daughters, who had married well, +were living in the neighborhood and came to dine with their father once a +month. His vigor of body was famous in all the countryside. "He is as +strong as Saint Anthony," had become a kind of proverb. + +At the time of the Prussian invasion Saint Anthony, at the wine shop, +promised to eat an army, for he was a braggart, like a true Norman, a bit +of a, coward and a blusterer. He banged his fist on the wooden table, +making the cups and the brandy glasses dance, and cried with the assumed +wrath of a good fellow, with a flushed face and a sly look in his eye: +"I shall have to eat some of them, nom de Dieu!" He reckoned that the +Prussians would not come as far as Tanneville, but when he heard they +were at Rautot he never went out of the house, and constantly watched the +road from the little window of his kitchen, expecting at any moment to +see the bayonets go by. + +One morning as he was eating his luncheon with the servants the door +opened and the mayor of the commune, Maitre Chicot, appeared, followed by +a soldier wearing a black copper-pointed helmet. Saint Anthony bounded +to his feet and his servants all looked at him, expecting to see him +slash the Prussian. But he merely shook hands with the mayor, who said: + +"Here is one for you, Saint Anthony. They came last night. Don't do +anything foolish, above all things, for they talked of shooting and +burning everything if there is the slightest unpleasantness, I have given +you warning. Give him something to eat; he looks like a good fellow. +Good-day. I am going to call on the rest. There are enough for all." +And he went out. + +Father Anthony, who had turned pale, looked at the Prussian. He was a +big, young fellow with plump, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair, unshaven +to his cheek bones, who looked stupid, timid and good. The shrewd Norman +read him at once, and, reassured, he made him a sign to sit down. Then +he said: "Will you take some soup?" + +The stranger did not understand. Anthony then became bolder, and pushing +a plateful of soup right under his nose, he said: "Here, swallow that, +big pig! + +The soldier ,answered "Ya," and began to eat greedily, while the farmer, +triumphant, feeling he had regained his reputation, winked his eye at the +servants, who were making strange grimaces, what with their terror and +their desire to laugh. + +When the Prussian had devoured his soup, Saint Anthony gave him another +plateful, which disappeared in like manner; but he flinched at the third +which the farmer tried to insist on his eating, saying: "Come, put that +into your stomach; 'twill fatten you or it is your own fault, eh, pig!" + +The soldier, understanding only that they wanted to make him eat all his +soup, laughed in a contented manner, making a sign to show that he could +not hold any more. + +Then Saint Anthony, become quite familiar, tapped him on the stomach, +saying: "My, there is plenty in my pig's belly!" But suddenly he began +to writhe with laughter, unable to speak. An idea had struck him which +made him choke with mirth. "That's it, that's it, Saint Anthony and his +pig. There's my pig!" And the three servants burst out laughing in +their turn. + +The old fellow was so pleased that he had the brandy brought in, good +stuff, 'fil en dix', and treated every one. They clinked glasses with +the Prussian, who clacked his tongue by way of flattery to show that he +enjoyed it. And Saint Anthony exclaimed in his face: "Eh, is not that +superfine? You don't get anything like that in your home, pig!" + +From that time Father Anthony never went out without his Prussian. He +had got what he wanted. This was his vengeance, the vengeance of an old +rogue. And the whole countryside, which was in terror, laughed to split +its sides at Saint Anthony's joke. Truly, there was no one like him when +it came to humor. No one but he would have thought of a thing like that. +He was a born joker! + +He went to see his neighbors every day, arm in arm with his German, whom +he introduced in a jovial manner, tapping him on the shoulder: "See, here +is my pig; look and see if he is not growing fat, the animal!" + +And the peasants would beam with smiles. "He is so comical, that +reckless fellow, Antoine!" + +"I will sell him to you, Cesaire, for three pistoles" (thirty francs). + +"I will take him, Antoine, and I invite you to eat some black pudding." + +"What I want is his feet." + +"Feel his belly; you will see that it is all fat." + +And they all winked at each other, but dared not laugh too loud, for fear +the Prussian might finally suspect they were laughing at him. Anthony, +alone growing bolder every day, pinched his thighs, exclaiming, "Nothing +but fat"; tapped him on the back, shouting, "That is all bacon"; lifted +him up in his arms as an old Colossus that could have lifted an anvil, +declaring, "He weighs six hundred and no waste." + +He had got into the habit of making people offer his "pig" something to +eat wherever they went together. This was the chief pleasure, the great +diversion every day. "Give him whatever you please, he will swallow +everything." And they offered the man bread and butter, potatoes, cold +meat, chitterlings, which caused the remark, "Some of your own, and +choice ones." + +The soldier, stupid and gentle, ate from politeness, charmed at these +attentions, making himself ill rather than refuse, and he was actually +growing fat and his uniform becoming tight for him. This delighted Saint +Anthony, who said: "You know, my pig, that we shall have to have another +cage made for you." + +They had, however, become the best friends in the world, and when the old +fellow went to attend to his business in the neighborhood the Prussian +accompanied him for the simple pleasure of being with him. + +The weather was severe; it was freezing hard. The terrible winter of +1870 seemed to bring all the scourges on France at one time. + +Father Antoine, who made provision beforehand, and took advantage of +every opportunity, foreseeing that manure would be scarce for the spring +farming, bought from a neighbor who happened to be in need of money all +that he had, and it was agreed that he should go every evening with his +cart to get a load. + +So every day at twilight he set out for the farm of Haules, half a league +distant, always accompanied by his "pig." And each time it was a +festival, feeding the animal. All the neighbors ran over there as they +would go to high mass on Sunday. + +But the soldier began to suspect something, be mistrustful, and when they +laughed too loud he would roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they +lighted up with anger. + +One evening when he had eaten his fill he refused to swallow another +morsel, and attempted to rise to leave the table. But Saint Anthony +stopped him by a turn of the wrist and, placing his two powerful hands on +his shoulders, he sat him down again so roughly that the chair smashed +under him. + +A wild burst of laughter broke forth, and Anthony, beaming, picked up his +pig, acted as though he were dressing his wounds, and exclaimed: "Since +you will not eat, you shall drink, nom de Dieu!" And they went to the +wine shop to get some brandy. + +The soldier rolled his eyes, which had a wicked expression, but he drank, +nevertheless; he drank as long as they wanted him, and Saint Anthony held +his head to the great delight of his companions. + +The Norman, red as a tomato, his eyes ablaze, filled up the glasses and +clinked, saying: "Here's to you!". And the Prussian, without speaking a +word, poured down one after another glassfuls of cognac. + +It was a contest, a battle, a revenge! Who would drink the most, nom +d'un nom! They could neither of them stand any more when the liter was +emptied. But neither was conquered. They were tied, that was all. They +would have to begin again the next day. + +They went out staggering and started for home, walking beside the dung +cart which was drawn along slowly by two horses. + +Snow began to fall and the moonless night was sadly lighted by this dead +whiteness on the plain. The men began to feel the cold, and this +aggravated their intoxication. Saint Anthony, annoyed at not being the +victor, amused himself by shoving his companion so as to make him fall +over into the ditch. The other would dodge backwards, and each time he +did he uttered some German expression in an angry tone, which made the +peasant roar with laughter. Finally the Prussian lost his temper, and +just as Anthony was rolling towards him he responded with such a terrific +blow with his fist that the Colossus staggered. + +Then, excited by the brandy, the old man seized the pugilist round the +waist, shook him for a few moments as he would have done with a little +child, and pitched him at random to the other side of the road. Then, +satisfied with this piece of work, he crossed his arms and began to laugh +afresh. + +But the soldier picked himself up in a hurry, his head bare, his helmet +having rolled off, and drawing his sword he rushed over to Father +Anthony. + +When he saw him coming the peasant seized his whip by the top of the +handle, his big holly wood whip, straight, strong and supple as the sinew +of an ox. + +The Prussian approached, his head down, making a lunge with his sword, +sure of killing his adversary. But the old fellow, squarely hitting the +blade, the point of which would have pierced his stomach, turned it +aside, and with the butt end of the whip struck the soldier a sharp blow +on the temple and he fell to the ground. + +Then he, gazed aghast, stupefied with amazement, at the body, twitching +convulsively at first and then lying prone and motionless. He bent over +it, turned it on its back, and gazed at it for some time. The man's eyes +were closed, and blood trickled from a wound at the side of his forehead. +Although it was dark, Father Anthony could distinguish the bloodstain on +the white snow. + +He remained there, at his wit's end, while his cart continued slowly on +its way. + +What was he to do? He would be shot! They would burn his farm, ruin his +district! What should he do? What should he do? How could he hide the +body, conceal the fact of his death, deceive the Prussians? He heard +voices in the distance, amid the utter stillness of the snow. All at +once he roused himself, and picking up the helmet he placed it on his +victim's head. Then, seizing him round the body, he lifted him up in his +arms, and thus running with him, he overtook his team, and threw the body +on top of the manure. Once in his own house he would think up some plan. + +He walked slowly, racking his brain, but without result. He saw, he +felt, that he was lost. He entered his courtyard. A light was shining +in one of the attic windows; his maid was not asleep. He hastily backed +his wagon to the edge of the manure hollow. He thought that by +overturning the manure the body lying on top of it would fall into the +ditch and be buried beneath it, and he dumped the cart. + +As he had foreseen, the man was buried beneath the manure. Anthony +evened it down with his fork, which he stuck in the ground beside it. +He called his stableman, told him to put up the horses, and went to his +room. + +He went to bed, still thinking of what he had best do, but no ideas came +to him. His apprehension increased in the quiet of his room. They would +shoot him! He was bathed in perspiration from fear, his teeth chattered, +he rose shivering, not being able to stay in bed. + +He went downstairs to the kitchen, took the bottle of brandy from the +sideboard and carried it upstairs. He drank two large glasses, one after +another, adding a fresh intoxication to the late one, without quieting +his mental anguish. He had done a pretty stroke of work, nom de Dieu, +idiot! + +He paced up and down, trying to think of some stratagem, some +explanations, some cunning trick, and from time to time he rinsed his +mouth with a swallow of "fil en dix" to give him courage. + +But no ideas came to him, not one. + +Towards midnight his watch dog, a kind of cross wolf called "Devorant," +began to howl frantically. Father Anthony shuddered to the marrow of his +bones, and each time the beast began his long and lugubrious wail the old +man's skin turned to goose flesh. + +He had sunk into a chair, his legs weak, stupefied, done up, waiting +anxiously for "Devorant" to set up another howl, and starting +convulsively from nervousness caused by terror. + +The clock downstairs struck five. The dog was still howling. The +peasant was almost insane. He rose to go and let the dog loose, so that +he should not hear him. He went downstairs, opened the hall door, and +stepped out into the darkness. The snow was still falling. The earth +was all white, the farm buildings standing out like black patches. He +approached the kennel. The dog was dragging at his chain. He unfastened +it. "Devorant" gave a bound, then stopped short, his hair bristling, his +legs rigid, his muzzle in the air, his nose pointed towards the manure +heap. + +Saint Anthony, trembling from head to foot, faltered: + +"What's the matter with you, you dirty hound?" and he walked a few steps +forward, gazing at the indistinct outlines, the sombre shadow of the +courtyard. + +Then he saw a form, the form of a man sitting on the manure heap! + +He gazed at it, paralyzed by fear, and breathing hard. But all at once +he saw, close by, the handle of the manure fork which was sticking in the +ground. He snatched it up and in one of those transports of fear that +will make the greatest coward brave he rushed forward to see what it was. + +It was he, his Prussian, come to life, covered with filth from his bed of +manure which had kept him warm. He had sat down mechanically, and +remained there in the snow which sprinkled down, all covered with dirt +and blood as he was, and still stupid from drinking, dazed by the blow +and exhausted from his wound. + +He perceived Anthony, and too sodden to understand anything, he made an +attempt to rise. But the moment the old man recognized him, he foamed +with rage like a wild animal. + +"Ah, pig! pig!" he sputtered. "You are not dead! You are going to +denounce me now--wait--wait!" + +And rushing on the German with all the strength of leis arms he flung the +raised fork like a lance and buried the four prongs full length in his +breast. + +The soldier fell over on his back, uttering a long death moan, while the +old peasant, drawing the fork out of his breast, plunged it over and over +again into his abdomen, his stomach, his throat, like a madman, piercing +the body from head to foot, as it still quivered, and the blood gushed +out in streams. + +Finally he stopped, exhausted by his arduous work, swallowing great +mouthfuls of air, calmed down at the completion of the murder. + +As the cocks were beginning to crow in the poultry yard and it was near +daybreak, he set to work to bury the man. + +He dug a hole in the manure till he reached the earth, dug down further, +working wildly, in a frenzy of strength with frantic motions of his arms +and body. + +When the pit was deep enough he rolled the corpse into it with the fork, +covered it with earth, which he stamped down for some time, and then put +back the manure, and he smiled as he saw the thick snow finishing his +work and covering up its traces with a white sheet. + +He then stuck the fork in the manure and went into the house. His +bottle, still half full of brandy stood on the table. He emptied it at a +draught, threw himself on his bed and slept heavily. + +He woke up sober, his mind calm and clear, capable of judgment and +thought. + +At the end of an hour he was going about the country making inquiries +everywhere for his soldier. He went to see the Prussian officer to find +out why they had taken away his man. + +As everyone knew what good friends they were, no one suspected him. He +even directed the research, declaring that the Prussian went to see the +girls every evening. + +An old retired gendarme who had an inn in the next village, and a pretty +daughter, was arrested and shot. + + + + + + + +LASTING LOVE + +It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The +Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, +covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. +Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal +discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. +Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset by +those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, +like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it +strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, +however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical +observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once +to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once +touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that +no other strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The +marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. + +"I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and +soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, +to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they +had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of +a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, +and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once +indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament." + +They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis +had said, a thing of temperament. + +"As for me," he said, "I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five +years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death." The +wife of the marquis clasped her hands. + +"That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What +bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering +affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so +adored!" + +The doctor smiled. + +"You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. +You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the +woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to +the chateau." The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their +contempt with "Pouah!" for the loves of common people did not interest +them. The doctor continued: "Three months ago I was called to the +deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She +wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might +understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most +singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. +She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about +with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They visited many towns, leaving +their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child +played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken +chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! +Chair-mender!' + +"When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by +the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of +affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken +chairs. Then it was she made friends with the children in the street, +but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking +to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a +kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. +"One day--she was then eleven years old--as she was walking through a +country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping +bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards +(mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied +mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. +She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, +she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation +and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting +his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she +threw her arms round him and gave him a hug--then she ran away. + +"What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had +sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, +or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery +is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she +dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. +She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or +groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the +cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing +his father's drug store, she caught sight of him behind the counter. +He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved +him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored +globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. +The following year she met him near the school. playing marbles. +She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so +passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all +her money. Three francs and twenty centimes! A real gold mine, at which +he gazed with staring eyes. + +"After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the +next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed +conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, +at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with +grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The +next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her +laugh with joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he +watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. +This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had +gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. +Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their +route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of +scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely +recognized him, he was so changed, had grown taller, better looking and +was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to +see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from +that time loved and suffered unceasingly. + +"Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. +He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, +hopelessly. She said to me: + +"'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another +exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work. + +"One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she +saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his +arm. She was his wife. That night the chairmender threw herself into +the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to +the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive +her. Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed +her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice: + +"'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice +brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a +long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she +insisted. + +"All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. +She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to +talk to him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to +give him money. + +"As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her +pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she +loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind +him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her +funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They +were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, +important and self-satisfied. They welcomed me and offered me some +coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, +sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet +understood that he had been loved by 'that vagabond! that chair-mender! +that wanderer!' he swore with indignation as though his reputation had +been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, +something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated +wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! That beggar!' + +"Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and +began striding about. He muttered : 'Can you understand anything so +horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I +should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have +escaped.' + +"I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to +finish my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her +savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I +have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would +prefer to give this money to the poor.' + +"They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. +I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking +money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. +Then I asked: + +"'What is your decision?' + +"Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, +it seems to me impossible to refuse it.' + +"Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for +our children with it.' + +"I answered dryly: 'As you wish.' + +"He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to +do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.' + +"I gave them the money, bowed and left. + +"The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely: + +"'That woman left her wagon here--what have you done with it?' + +"'Nothing; take it if you wish.' + +"'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back +and said: + +"'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?' + +"He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with +them?' + +"'Dispose of them as you like.' + +"He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? +The doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. +I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is +useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. +That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my +life." + +The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, +sighed and said: + +"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love." + + + + + + +PIERROT + +Mme. Lefevre was a country dame, a widow, one of these half peasants, +with ribbons and bonnets with trimming on them, one of those persons who +clipped her words and put on great airs in public, concealing the soul of +a pretentious animal beneath a comical and bedizened exterior, just as +the country-folks hide their coarse red hands in ecru silk gloves. + +She had a servant, a good simple peasant, called Rose. + +The two women lived in a little house with green shutters by the side of +the high road in Normandy, in the centre of the country of Caux. As they +had a narrow strip of garden in front of the house, they grew some +vegetables. + +One night someone stole twelve onions. As soon as Rose became aware of +the theft, she ran to tell madame, who came downstairs in her woolen +petticoat. It was a shame and a disgrace! They had robbed her, Mme. +Lefevre! As there were thieves in the country, they might come back. + +And the two frightened women examined the foot tracks, talking, and +supposing all sorts of things. + +"See, they went that way! They stepped on the wall, they jumped into the +garden!" + +And they became apprehensive for the future. How could they sleep in +peace now! + +The news of the theft spread. The neighbor came, making examinations and +discussing the matter in their turn, while the two women explained to +each newcomer what they had observed and their opinion. + +A farmer who lived near said to them: + +"You ought to have a dog." + +That is true, they ought to have a dog, if it were only to give the +alarm. Not a big dog. Heavens! what would they do with a big dog? He +would eat their heads off. But a little dog (in Normandy they say +"quin"), a little puppy who would bark. + +As soon as everyone had left, Mme. Lefevre discussed this idea of a dog +for some time. On reflection she made a thousand objections, terrified +at the idea of a bowl full of soup, for she belonged to that race of +parsimonious country women who always carry centimes in their pocket to +give alms in public to beggars on the road and to put in the Sunday +collection plate. + +Rose, who loved animals, gave her opinion and defended it shrewdly. So +it was decided that they should have a dog, a very small dog. + +They began to look for one, but could find nothing but big dogs, who +would devour enough soup to make one shudder. The grocer of Rolleville +had one, a tiny one, but he demanded two francs to cover the cost of +sending it. Mme. Lefevre declared that she would feed a "quin," but +would not buy one. + +The baker, who knew all that occurred, brought in his wagon one morning a +strange little yellow animal, almost without paws, with the body of a +crocodile, the head of a fox, and a curly tail--a true cockade, as big as +all the rest of him. Mme. Lefevre thought this common cur that cost +nothing was very handsome. Rose hugged it and asked what its name was. + +"Pierrot," replied the baker. + +The dog was installed in an old soap box and they gave it some water +which it drank. They then offered it a piece of bread. He ate it. Mme. +Lefevre, uneasy, had an idea. + +"When he is thoroughly accustomed to the house we can let him run. He +can find something to eat, roaming about the country." + +They let him run, in fact, which did not prevent him from being famished. +Also he never barked except to beg for food, and then he barked +furiously. + +Anyone might come into the garden, and Pierrot would run up and fawn on +each one in turn and not utter a bark. + +Mme. Lefevre, however, had become accustomed to the animal. She even +went so far as to like it and to give it from time to time pieces of +bread soaked in the gravy on her plate. + +But she had not once thought of the dog tax, and when they came to +collect eight francs--eight francs, madame--for this puppy who never even +barked, she almost fainted from the shock. + +It was immediately decided that they must get rid of Pierrot. No one +wanted him. Every one declined to take him for ten leagues around. Then +they resolved, not knowing what else to do, to make him "piquer du mas." + +"Piquer du mas" means to eat chalk. When one wants to get rid of a dog +they make him "Piquer du mas." + +In the midst of an immense plain one sees a kind of hut, or rather a very +small roof standing above the ground. This is the entrance to the clay +pit. A big perpendicular hole is sunk for twenty metres underground and +ends in a series of long subterranean tunnels. + +Once a year they go down into the quarry at the time they fertilize the +ground. The rest of the year it serves as a cemetery for condemned dogs, +and as one passed by this hole plaintive howls, furious or despairing +barks and lamentable appeals reach one's ear. + +Sportsmen's dogs and sheep dogs flee in terror from this mournful place, +and when one leans over it one perceives a disgusting odor of +putrefaction. + +Frightful dramas are enacted in the darkness. + +When an animal has suffered down there for ten or twelve days, nourished +on the foul remains of his predecessors, another animal, larger and more +vigorous, is thrown into the hole. There they are, alone, starving, with +glittering eyes. They watch each other, follow each other, hesitate in +doubt. But hunger impels them; they attack each other, fight desperately +for some time, and the stronger eats the weaker, devours him alive. + +When it was decided to make Pierrot "piquer du mas" they looked round for +an executioner. The laborer who mended the road demanded six sous to +take the dog there. That seemed wildly exorbitant to Mme. Lefevre. The +neighbor's hired boy wanted five sous; that was still too much. So Rose +having observed that they had better carry it there themselves, as in +that way it would not be brutally treated on the way and made to suspect +its fate, they resolved to go together at twilight. + +They offered the dog that evening a good dish of soup with a piece of +butter in it. He swallowed every morsel of it, and as he wagged his tail +with delight Rose put him in her apron. + +They walked quickly, like thieves, across the plain. They soon perceived +the chalk pit and walked up to it. Mme. Lefevre leaned over to hear if +any animal was moaning. No, there were none there; Pierrot would be +alone. Then Rose, who was crying, kissed the dog and threw him into the +chalk pit, and they both leaned over, listening. + +First they heard a dull sound, then the sharp, bitter, distracting cry of +an animal in pain, then a succession of little mournful cries, then +despairing appeals, the cries of a dog who is entreating, his head raised +toward the opening of the pit. + +He yelped, oh, how he yelped! + +They were filled with remorse, with terror, with a wild inexplicable +fear, and ran away from the spot. As Rose went faster Mme. Lefevre +cried: "Wait for me, Rose, wait for me!" + +At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares. + +Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but +when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it. He jumped out and bit +her nose. + +She awoke and thought she heard him yelping still. She listened, but she +was mistaken. + +She fell asleep again and found herself on a high road, an endless road, +which she followed. Suddenly in the middle of the road she perceived a +basket, a large farmer's basket, lying there, and this basket frightened +her. + +She ended by opening it, and Pierrot, concealed in it, seized her hand +and would not let go. She ran away in terror with the dog hanging to the +end of her arm, which he held between his teeth. + +At daybreak she arose, almost beside herself, and ran to the chalk pit. + +He was yelping, yelping still; he had yelped all night. She began to sob +and called him by all sorts of endearing names. He answered her with all +the tender inflections of his dog's voice. + + +Then she wanted to see him again, promising herself that she would give +him a good home till he died. + +She ran to the chalk digger, whose business it was to excavate for chalk, +and told him the situation. The man listened, but said nothing. When +she had finished he said: + +"You want your dog? That will cost four francs." She gave a jump. All +her grief was at an end at once. + +"Four francs!" she said. "You would die of it! Four francs!" + +"Do you suppose I am going to bring my ropes, my windlass, and set it up, +and go down there with my boy and let myself be bitten, perhaps, by your +cursed dog for the pleasure of giving it back to you? You should not +have thrown it down there." + +She walked away, indignant. Four francs! + +As soon as she entered the house she called Rose and told her of the +quarryman's charges. Rose, always resigned, repeated: + +"Four francs! That is a good deal of money, madame." Then she added: +"If we could throw him something to eat, the poor dog, so he will not die +of hunger." + +Mme. Lefevre approved of this and was quite delighted. So they set out +again with a big piece of bread and butter. + +They cut it in mouthfuls, which they threw down one after the other, +speaking by turns to Pierrot. As soon as the dog finished one piece he +yelped for the next. + +They returned that evening and the next day and every day. But they made +only one trip. + +One morning as they were just letting fall the first mouthful they +suddenly heard a tremendous barking in the pit. There were two dogs +there. Another had been thrown in, a large dog. + +"Pierrot!" cried Rose. And Pierrot yelped and yelped. Then they began +to throw down some food. But each time they noticed distinctly a +terrible struggle going on, then plaintive cries from Pierrot, who had +been bitten by his companion, who ate up everything as he was the +stronger. + +It was in vain that they specified, saying: + +"That is for you, Pierrot." Pierrot evidently got nothing. + +The two women, dumfounded, looked at each other and Mme. Lefevre said in +a sour tone: + +"I could not feed all the dogs they throw in there! We must give it up." + +And, suffocating at the thought of all the dogs living at her expense, +she went away, even carrying back what remained of the bread, which she +ate as she walked along. + +Rose followed her, wiping her eyes on the corner of her blue apron. + + + + + + +A NORMANDY JOKE + +It was a wedding procession that was coming along the road between the +tall trees that bounded the farms and cast their shadow on the road. +At the head were the bride and groom, then the family, then the invited +guests, and last of all the poor of the neighborhood. The village +urchins who hovered about the narrow road like flies ran in and out of +the ranks or climbed up the trees to see it better. + +The bridegroom was a good-looking young fellow, Jean Patu, the richest +farmer in the neighborhood, but he was above all things, an ardent +sportsman who seemed to take leave of his senses in order to satisfy that +passion, and who spent large sums on his dogs, his keepers, his ferrets +and his guns. The bride, Rosalie Roussel, had been courted by all the +likely young fellows in the district, for they all thought her handsome +and they knew that she would have a good dowry. But she had chosen Patu; +partly, perhaps, because she liked him better than she did the others, +but still more, like a careful Normandy girl, because he had more crown +pieces. + +As they entered the white gateway of the husband's farm, forty shots +resounded without their seeing those who fired, as they were hidden in +the ditches. The noise seemed to please the men, who were slouching +along heavily in their best clothes, and Patu left his wife, and running +up to a farm servant whom he perceived behind a tree, took his gun and +fired a shot himself, as frisky as a young colt. Then they went on, +beneath the apple trees which were heavy with fruit, through the high +grass and through the midst of the calves, who looked at them with their +great eyes, got up slowly and remained standing, with their muzzles +turned toward the wedding party. + +The men became serious when they came within measurable distance of the +wedding dinner. Some of them, the rich ones, had on tall, shining silk +hats, which seemed altogether out of place there; others had old head- +coverings with a long nap, which might have been taken for moleskin, +while the humblest among them wore caps. All the women had on shawls, +which they wore loosely on their back, holding the tips ceremoniously +under their arms. They were red, parti-colored, flaming shawls, and +their brightness seemed to astonish the black fowls on the dung-heap, the +ducks on the side of the pond and the pigeons on the thatched roofs. + +The extensive farm buildings seemed to be waiting there at the end of +that archway of apple trees, and a sort of vapor came out of open door +and windows and an almost overpowering odor of eatables was exhaled from +the vast building, from all its openings and from its very walls. The +string of guests extended through the yard; but when the foremost of them +reached the house, they broke the chain and dispersed, while those behind +were still coming in at the open gate. The ditches were now lined with +urchins and curious poor people, and the firing did not cease, but came +from every side at once, and a cloud of smoke, and that odor which has +the same intoxicating effect as absinthe, blended with the atmosphere. +The women were shaking their dresses outside the door, to get rid of the +dust, were undoing their cap-strings and pulling their shawls over their +arms, and then they went into the house to lay them aside altogether for +the time. The table was laid in the great kitchen that would hold a +hundred persons; they sat down to dinner at two o'clock; and at eight +o'clock they were still eating, and the men, in their shirt-sleeves, with +their waistcoats unbuttoned and with red faces, were swallowing down the +food and drink as if they had been whirlpools. The cider sparkled +merrily, clear and golden in the large glasses, by the side of the dark, +blood-colored wine, and between every dish they made a "hole," the +Normandy hole, with a glass of brandy which inflamed the body and put +foolish notions into the head. Low jokes were exchanged across the table +until the whole arsenal of peasant wit was exhausted. For the last +hundred years the same broad stories had served for similar occasions, +and, although every one knew them, they still hit the mark and made both +rows of guests roar with laughter. + +At one end of the table four young fellows, who were neighbors, were +preparing some practical jokes for the newly married couple, and they +seemed to have got hold of a good one by the way they whispered and +laughed, and suddenly one of them, profiting by a moment of silence, +exclaimed: "The poachers will have a good time to-night, with this moon! +I say, Jean, you will not be looking at the moon, will you?" The +bridegroom turned to him quickly and replied: "Only let them come, that's +all!" But the other young fellow began to laugh, and said: "I do not +think you will pay much attention to them!" + +The whole table was convulsed with laughter, so that the glasses shook, +but the bridegroom became furious at the thought that anybody would +profit by his wedding to come and poach on his land, and repeated: +"I only say-just let them come!" + +Then there was a flood of talk with a double meaning which made the bride +blush somewhat, although she was trembling with expectation; and when +they had emptied the kegs of brandy they all went to bed. The young +couple went into their own room, which was on the ground floor, as most +rooms in farmhouses are. As it was very warm, they opened the window and +closed the shutters. A small lamp in bad taste, a present from the +bride's father, was burning on the chest of drawers, and the bed stood +ready to receive the young people. + +The young woman had already taken off her wreath and her dress, and she +was in her petticoat, unlacing her boots, while Jean was finishing his +cigar and looking at her out of the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, with +a brusque movement, like a man who is about to set to work, he took off +his coat. She had already taken off her boots, and was now pulling off +her stockings, and then she said to him: "Go and hide yourself behind the +curtains while I get into bed." + +He seemed as if he were about to refuse; but at last he did as she asked +him, and in a moment she unfastened her petticoat, which slipped down, +fell at her feet and lay on the ground. She left it there, stepped over +it in her loose chemise and slipped into the bed, whose springs creaked +beneath her weight. He immediately went up to the bed, and, stooping +over his wife, he sought her lips, which she hid beneath the pillow, when +a shot was heard in the distance, in the direction of the forest of +Rapees, as he thought. + +He raised himself anxiously, with his heart beating, and running to the +window, he opened the shutters. The full moon flooded the yard with +yellow light, and the reflection of the apple trees made black shadows at +their feet, while in the distance the fields gleamed, covered with the +ripe corn. But as he was leaning out, listening to every sound in the +still night, two bare arms were put round his neck, and his wife +whispered, trying to pull him back: "Do leave them alone; it has nothing +to do with you. Come to bed." + +He turned round, put his arms round her, and drew her toward him, but +just as he was laying her on the 'bed, which yielded beneath her weight, +they heard another report, considerably nearer this time, and Jean, +giving way to his tumultuous rage, swore aloud: "Damn it! They will +think I do not go out and see what it is because of you! Wait, wait a +few minutes!" He put on his shoes again, took down his gun, which was +always hanging within reach against the wall, and, as his wife threw +herself on her knees in her terror, imploring him not to go, he hastily +freed himself, ran to the window and jumped into the yard. + +She waited one hour, two hours, until daybreak, but her husband did not +return. Then she lost her head, aroused the house, related how angry +Jean was, and said that he had gone after the poachers, and immediately +all the male farm-servants, even the boys, went in search of their +master. They found him two leagues from the farm, tied hand and foot, +half dead with rage, his gun broken, his trousers turned inside out, and +with three dead hares hanging round his neck, and a placard on his chest +with these words: "Who goes on the chase loses his place." + +In later years, when he used to tell this story of his wedding night, +he usually added: "Ah! as far as a joke went it was a good joke. They +caught me in a snare, as if I had been a rabbit, the dirty brutes, and +they shoved my head into a bag. But if I can only catch them some day +they had better look out for themselves!" + +That is how they amuse themselves in Normandy on a wedding day. + + + + + + +FATHER MATTHEW + +We had just left Rouen and were galloping along the road to Jumieges. +The light carriage flew along across the level country. Presently the +horse slackened his pace to walk up the hill of Cantelen. + +One sees there one of the most magnificent views in the world. Behind us +lay Rouen, the city of churches, with its Gothic belfries, sculptured +like ivory trinkets; before us Saint Sever, the manufacturing suburb, +whose thousands of smoking chimneys rise amid the expanse of sky, +opposite the thousand sacred steeples of the old city. + +On the one hand the spire of the cathedral, the highest of human +monuments, on the other the engine of the power-house, its rival, and +almost as high, and a metre higher than the tallest pyramid in Egypt. + +Before us wound the Seine, with its scattered islands and bordered by +white banks, covered with a forest on the right and on the left immense +meadows, bounded by another forest yonder in the distance. + +Here and there large ships lay at anchor along the banks of the wide +river. Three enormous steam boats were starting out, one behind the +other, for Havre, and a chain of boats, a bark, two schooners and a brig, +were going upstream to Rouen, drawn by a little tug that emitted a cloud +of black smoke. + +My companion, a native of the country, did not glance at this wonderful +landscape, but he smiled continually; he seemed to be amused at his +thoughts. Suddenly he cried: + +"Ah, you will soon see something comical--Father Matthew's chapel. That +is a sweet morsel, my boy." + +I looked at him in surprise. He continued: + +"I will give you a whiff of Normandy that will stay by you. Father +Matthew is the handsomest Norman in the province and his chapel is one of +the wonders of the world, nothing more nor less. But I will first give +you a few words of explanation. + +"Father Matthew, who is also called Father 'La Boisson,' is an old +sergeant-major who has come back to his native land. He combines in +admirable proportions, making a perfect whole, the humbug of the old +soldier and the sly roguery of the Norman. On his return to Normandy, +thanks to influence and incredible cleverness, he was made doorkeeper of +a votive chapel, a chapel dedicated to the Virgin and frequented chiefly +by young women who have gone astray . . . . He composed and had +painted a special prayer to his 'Good Virgin.' This prayer is a +masterpiece of unintentional irony, of Norman wit, in which jest is +blended with fear of the saint and with the superstitious fear of the +secret influence of something. He has not much faith in his protectress, +but he believes in her a little through prudence, and he is considerate +of her through policy. + +"This is how this wonderful prayer begins: + +"'Our good Madame Virgin Mary, natural protectress of girl mothers in +this land and all over the world, protect your servant who erred in a +moment of forgetfulness . . .' + +"It ends thus: + +"'Do not forget me, especially when you are with your holy spouse, and +intercede with God the Father that he may grant me a good husband, like +your own.' + +"This prayer, which was suppressed by the clergy of the district, is sold +by him privately, and is said to be very efficacious for those who recite +it with unction. + +"In fact he talks of the good Virgin as the valet de chambre of a +redoubted prince might talk of his master who confided in him all his +little private secrets. He knows a number of amusing anecdotes at his +expense which he tells confidentially among friends as they sit over +their glasses. + +"But you will see for yourself. + +"As the fees coming from the Virgin did not appear sufficient to him, he +added to the main figure a little business in saints. He has them all, +or nearly all. There was not room enough in the chapel, so he stored +them in the wood-shed and brings them forth as soon as the faithful ask +for them. He carved these little wooden statues himself--they are +comical in the extreme--and painted them all bright green one year when +they were painting his house. You know that saints cure diseases, but +each saint has his specialty, and you must not confound them or make any +blunders. They are as jealous of each other as mountebanks. + +"In order that they may make no mistake, the old women come and consult +Matthew. + +"'For diseases of the ear which saint is the best?' + +"'Why, Saint Osyme is good and Saint Pamphilius is not bad.' But that is +not all. + +"As Matthew has some time to spare, he drinks; but he drinks like a +professional, with conviction, so much so that he is intoxicated +regularly every evening. He is drunk, but he is aware of it. He is so +well aware of it that he notices each day his exact degree of +intoxication. That is his chief occupation; the chapel is a secondary +matter. + +"And he has invented--listen and catch on--he has invented the +'Saoulometre.' + +"There is no such instrument, but Matthew's observations are as precise +as those of a mathematician. You may hear him repeating incessantly: +'Since Monday I have had more than forty-five,' or else 'I was between +fifty-two and fifty-eight,' or else 'I had at least sixty-six to +seventy,' or 'Hullo, cheat, I thought I was in the fifties and here I +find I had had seventy-five!' + +"He never makes a mistake. + +"He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that +his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot +depend absolutely on the truth of that statement. + +"When Matthew acknowledges that he has passed ninety, you may rest +assured that he is blind drunk. + +"On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury. +She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at +him: + +"'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot!' + +"Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite +her and says in a severe tone: + +"'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow.' + +"If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky +voice: + +"'Don't bawl any more. I have had about ninety; I am not counting any +more. Look out, I am going to hit you!' + +"Then Melie beats a retreat. + +"If, on the following day, she reverts to the subject, he laughs in her +face and says: + +"'Come, come! We have said enough. It is past. As long as I have not +reached my limit there is no harm done. But if I go, past that I will +allow you to correct me, my word on it!'" + +We had reached the top of the hill. The road entered the delightful +forest of Roumare. + +Autumn, marvellous autumn, blended its gold and purple with the remaining +traces of verdure. We passed through Duclair. Then, instead of going on +to Jumieges, my friend turned to the left and, taking a crosscut, drove +in among the trees. + +And presently from the top of a high hill we saw again the magnificent +valley of the Seine and the winding river beneath us. + +At our right a very small slate-covered building, with a bell tower as +large as a sunshade, adjoined a pretty house with green Venetian blinds, +and all covered with honeysuckle and roses. + +"Here are some friends!" cried a big voice, and Matthew appeared on the +threshold. He was a man about sixty, thin and with a goatee and long, +white mustache. + +My friend shook him by the hand and introduced me, and Matthew took us +into a clean kitchen, which served also as a dining-room. He said: + +"I have no elegant apartment, monsieur. I do not like to get too far +away from the food. The saucepans, you see, keep me company." Then, +turning to my friend: + +"Why did you come on Thursday? You know quite well that this is the day +I consult my Guardian Saint. I cannot go out this afternoon." + +And running to the door, he uttered a terrific roar: "Melie!" which must +have startled the sailors in the ships along the stream in the valley +below. + +Melie did not reply. + +Then Matthew winked his eye knowingly. + +"She is not pleased with me, you see, because yesterday I was in the +nineties." + +My friend began to laugh. "In the nineties, Matthew! How did you manage +it?" + +"I will tell you," said Matthew. "Last year I found only twenty rasieres +(an old dry measure) of apricots. There are no more, but those are the +only things to make cider of. So I made some, and yesterday I tapped the +barrel. Talk of nectar! That was nectar. You shall tell me what you +think of it. Polyte was here, and we sat down and drank a glass and +another without being satisfied (one could go on drinking it until to- +morrow), and at last, with glass after glass, I felt a chill at my +stomach. I said to Polyte: 'Supposing we drink a glass of cognac to warm +ourselves?' He agreed. But this cognac, it sets you on fire, so that we +had to go back to the cider. But by going from chills to heat and heat +to chills, I saw that I was in the nineties. Polyte was not far from his +limit." + +The door opened and Melie appeared. At once, before bidding us good-day, +she cried: + +"Great hog, you have both of you reached your limit!" + +"Don't say that, Melie; don't say that," said Matthew, getting angry. +"I have never reached my limit." + +They gave us a delicious luncheon outside beneath two lime trees, beside +the little chapel and overlooking the vast landscape. And Matthew told +us, with a mixture of humor and unexpected credulity, incredible stories +of miracles. + +We had drunk a good deal of delicious cider, sparkling and sweet, fresh +and intoxicating, which he preferred to all other drinks, and were +smoking our pipes astride our chairs when two women appeared. + +They were old, dried up and bent. After greeting us they asked for Saint +Blanc. Matthew winked at us as he replied: + +"I will get him for you." And he disappeared in his wood shed. He +remained there fully five minutes. Then he came back with an expression +of consternation. He raised his hands. + +"I don't know where he is. I cannot find him. I am quite sure that I +had him." Then making a speaking trumpet of his hands, he roared once +more: + +"Meli-e-a!" + +"What's the matter?" replied his wife from the end of the garden. + +"Where's Saint Blanc? I cannot find him in the wood shed." + +Then Melie explained it this way: + +"Was not that the one you took last week to stop up a hole in the rabbit +hutch?" + +Matthew gave a start. + +"By thunder, that may be!" Then turning to the women, he said: + +"Follow me." + +They followed him. We did the same, almost choking with suppressed +laughter. + +Saint Blanc was indeed stuck into the earth like an ordinary stake, +covered with mud and dirt, and forming a corner for the rabbit hutch. + +As soon as they perceived him, the two women fell on their knees, crossed +themselves and began to murmur an "Oremus." But Matthew darted toward +them. + +"Wait," he said, "you are in the mud; I will get you a bundle of straw." + +He went to fetch the straw and made them a priedieu. Then, looking at +his muddy saint and doubtless afraid of bringing discredit on his +business, he added: + +"I will clean him off a little for you." + +He took a pail of water and a brush and began to scrub the wooden image +vigorously, while the two old women kept on praying. + +When he had finished he said: + +"Now he is all right." And he took us back to the house to drink another +glass. + +As he was carrying the glass to his lips he stopped and said in a rather +confused manner: + +"All the same, when I put Saint Blanc out with the rabbits I thought he +would not make any more money. For two years no one had asked for him. +But the saints, you see, they are never out of date." + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Original Short Stories, Vol. 10. +by Guy de Maupassant + diff --git a/old/gm10v10.zip b/old/gm10v10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03a6b67 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gm10v10.zip diff --git a/old/gm10v11.txt b/old/gm10v11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60b7092 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gm10v11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4287 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Original Short Stories, by Maupassant, v10 +#11 in our series by Guy de Maupassant + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other +Project Gutenberg file. + +We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your +own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future +readers. 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QUESADA and Others + + + + +VOLUME X. + +THE CHRISTENING +THE FARMER'S WIFE +THE DEVIL +THE SNIPE +THE WILL +WALTER SCHNAFF'S ADVENTURE +AT SEA +MINUET +THE SON +THAT PIG OF A MORIN +SAINT ANTHONY +LASTING LOVE +PIERROT +A NORMANDY JOKE +FATHER MATTHEW + + + + + + +THE CHRISTENING + +"Well doctor, a little brandy?" + +"With pleasure." + +The old ship's surgeon, holding out his glass, watched it as it slowly +filled with the golden liquid. Then, holding it in front of his eyes, he +let the light from the lamp stream through it, smelled it, tasted a few +drops and smacked his lips with relish. Then he said: + +"Ah! the charming poison! Or rather the seductive murderer, the +delightful destroyer of peoples! + +"You people do not know it the way I do. You may have read that +admirable book entitled L'Assommoir, but you have not, as I have, seen +alcohol exterminate a whole tribe of savages, a little kingdom of +negroes--alcohol calmly unloaded by the barrel by red-bearded English +seamen. + +"Right near here, in a little village in Brittany near Pont-l'Abbe, I +once witnessed a strange and terrible tragedy caused by alcohol. I was +spending my vacation in a little country house left me by my father. +You know this flat coast where the wind whistles day and night, where one +sees, standing or prone, these giant rocks which in the olden times were +regarded as guardians, and which still retain something majestic and +imposing about them. I always expect to see them come to life and start +to walk across the country with the slow and ponderous tread of giants, +or to unfold enormous granite wings and fly toward the paradise of the +Druids. + +"Everywhere is the sea, always ready on the slightest provocation to rise +in its anger and shake its foamy mane at those bold enough to brave its +wrath. + +"And the men who travel on this terrible sea, which, with one motion of +its green back, can overturn and swallow up their frail barks--they go +out in the little boats, day and night, hardy, weary and drunk. They are +often drunk. They have a saying which says: 'When the bottle is full you +see the reef, but when it is empty you see it no more.' + +"Go into one of their huts; you will never find the father there. If you +ask the woman what has become of her husband, she will stretch her arms +out over the dark ocean which rumbles and roars along the coast. +He remained, there one night, when he had had too much to drink; so did +her oldest son. She has four more big, strong, fair-haired boys. Soon +it will be their time. + +"As I said, I was living in a little house near Pont-l'Abbe. I was there +alone with my servant, an old sailor, and with a native family which took +care of the grounds in my absence. It consisted of three persons, two +sisters and a man, who had married one of them, and who attended to the +garden. + +"A short time before Christmas my gardener's wife presented him with a +boy. The husband asked me to stand as god-father. I could hardly deny +the request, and so he borrowed ten francs from me for the cost of the +christening, as he said. + +"The second day of January was chosen as the date of the ceremony. For a +week the earth had been covered by an enormous white carpet of snow, +which made this flat, low country seem vast and limitless. The ocean +appeared to be black in contrast with this white plain; one could see it +rolling, raging and tossing its waves as though wishing to annihilate its +pale neighbor, which appeared to be dead, it was so calm, quiet and cold. + +"At nine o'clock the father, Kerandec, came to my door with his sister- +in-law, the big Kermagan, and the nurse, who carried the infant wrapped +up in a blanket. We started for the church. The weather was so cold +that it seemed to dry up the skin and crack it open. I was thinking of +the poor little creature who was being carried on ahead of us, and I said +to myself that this Breton race must surely be of iron, if their children +were able, as soon as they were born, to stand such an outing. + +"We came to the church, but the door was closed; the priest was late. + +"Then the nurse sat down on one of the steps and began to undress the +child. At first I thought there must have been some slight accident, but +I saw that they were leaving the poor little fellow naked completely +naked, in the icy air. Furious at such imprudence, I protested: + +"'Why, you are crazy! You will kill the child!' + +"The woman answered quietly: 'Oh, no, sir; he must wait naked before the +Lord.' + +"The father and the aunt looked on undisturbed. It was the custom. If +it were not adhered to misfortune was sure to attend the little one. + +"I scolded, threatened and pleaded. I used force to try to cover the +frail creature. All was in vain. The nurse ran away from me through the +snow, and the body of the little one turned purple. I was about to leave +these brutes when I saw the priest coming across the country, followed. +by the sexton and a young boy. I ran towards him and gave vent to my +indignation. He showed no surprise nor did he quicken his pace in the +least. He answered: + +"'What can you expect, sir? It's the custom. They all do it, and it's +of no use trying to stop them.' + +"'But at least hurry up!' I cried. + +"He answered: 'But I can't go any faster.' + +"He entered the vestry, while we remained outside on the church steps. +I was suffering. But what about the poor little creature who was howling +from the effects of the biting cold. + +"At last the door opened. He went into the church. But the poor child +had to remain naked throughout the ceremony. It was interminable. The +priest stammered over the Latin words and mispronounced them horribly. +He walked slowly and with a ponderous tread. His white surplice chilled +my heart. It seemed as though, in the name of a pitiless and barbarous +god, he had wrapped himself in another kind of snow in order to torture +this little piece of humanity that suffered so from the cold. + +"Finally the christening was finished according to the rites and I saw +the nurse once more take the frozen, moaning child and wrap it up in the +blanket. + +"The priest said to me: 'Do you wish to sign the register?' + +"Turning to my gardener, I said: "Hurry up and get home quickly so that +you can warm that child.' I gave him some advice so as to ward off, if +not too late, a bad attack of pneumonia. He promised to follow my +instructions and left with his sister-in-law and the nurse. I followed +the priest into the vestry, and when I had signed he demanded five francs +for expenses. + +"As I had already given the father ten francs, I refused to pay twice. +The priest threatened to destroy the paper and to annul the ceremony. +I, in turn, threatened him with the district attorney. The dispute was +long, and I finally paid five francs. + +"As soon as I reached home I went down to Kerandec's to find out whether +everything was all right. Neither father, nor sister-in-law, nor nurse +had yet returned. The mother, who had remained alone, was in bed, +shivering with cold and starving, for she had had nothing to eat since +the day before. + +"'Where the deuce can they have gone?' I asked. She answered without +surprise or anger, 'They're going to drink something to celebrate: It was +the custom. Then I thought, of my ten francs which were to pay the +church and would doubtless pay for the alcohol. + +"I sent some broth to the mother and ordered a good fire to be built in +the room. I was uneasy and furious and promised myself to drive out +these brutes, wondering with terror what was going to happen to the poor +infant. + +"It was already six, and they had not yet returned. I told my servant to +wait for them and I went to bed. I soon fell asleep and slept like a +top. At daybreak I was awakened by my servant, who was bringing me my +hot water. + +"As soon as my eyes were open I asked: 'How about Kerandec?' + +"The man hesitated and then stammered: 'Oh! he came back, all right, +after midnight, and so drunk that he couldn't walk, and so were Kermagan +and the nurse. I guess they must have slept in a ditch, for the little +one died and they never even noticed it.' + +"I jumped up out of bed, crying: + +"'What! The child is dead?' + +"'Yes, sir. They brought it back to Mother Kerandec. When she saw it +she began to cry, and now they are making her drink to console her.' + +"'What's that? They are making her drink!' + +"'Yes, sir. I only found it out this morning. As Kerandec had no more +brandy or money, he took some wood alcohol, which monsieur gave him for +the lamp, and all four of them are now drinking that. The mother is +feeling pretty sick now.' + +"I had hastily put on some clothes, and seizing a stick, with the +intention of applying it to the backs of these human beasts, I hastened +towards the gardener's house. + +"The mother was raving drunk beside the blue body of her dead baby. +Kerandec, the nurse, and the Kermagan woman were snoring on the floor. +I had to take care of the mother, who died towards noon." + +The old doctor was silent. He took up the brandy-bottle and poured out +another glass. He held it up to the lamp, and the light streaming +through it imparted to the liquid the amber color of molten topaz. With +one gulp he swallowed the treacherous drink. + + + + + + +THE FARMER'S WIFE + +Said the Baron Rene du Treilles to me: + +"Will you come and open the hunting season with me at my farm at +Marinville? I shall be delighted if you will, my dear boy. In the first +place, I am all alone. It is rather a difficult ground to get at, and +the place I live in is so primitive that I can invite only my most +intimate friends." + +I accepted his invitation, and on Saturday we set off on the train going +to Normandy. We alighted at a station called Almivare, and Baron Rene, +pointing to a carryall drawn by a timid horse and driven by a big +countryman with white hair, said: + +"Here is our equipage, my dear boy." + +The driver extended his hand to his landlord, and the baron pressed it +warmly, asking: + +"Well, Maitre Lebrument, how are you?" + +"Always the same, M'sieu le Baron." + +We jumped into this swinging hencoop perched on two enormous wheels, and +the young horse, after a violent swerve, started into a gallop, pitching +us into the air like balls. Every fall backward on the wooden bench gave +me the most dreadful pain. + +The peasant kept repeating in his calm, monotonous voice: + +"There, there! All right all right, Moutard, all right!" + +But Moutard scarcely heard, and kept capering along like a goat. + +Our two dogs behind us, in the empty part of the hencoop, were standing +up and sniffing the air of the plains, where they scented game. + +The baron gazed with a sad eye into the distance at the vast Norman +landscape, undulating and melancholy, like an immense English park, where +the farmyards, surrounded by two or four rows of trees and full of +dwarfed apple trees which hid the houses, gave a vista as far as the eye +could see of forest trees, copses and shrubbery such as landscape +gardeners look for in laying out the boundaries of princely estates. + +And Rene du Treilles suddenly exclaimed: + +"I love this soil; I have my very roots in it." + +He was a pure Norman, tall and strong, with a slight paunch, and of the +old race of adventurers who went to found kingdoms on the shores of every +ocean. He was about fifty years of age, ten years less perhaps than the +farmer who was driving us. + +The latter was a lean peasant, all skin and bone, one of those men who +live a hundred years. + +After two hours' travelling over stony roads, across that green and +monotonous plain, the vehicle entered one of those orchard farmyards and +drew up before in old structure falling into decay, where an old maid- +servant stood waiting beside a young fellow, who took charge of the +horse. + +We entered the farmhouse. The smoky kitchen was high and spacious. The +copper utensils and the crockery shone in the reflection of the hearth. +A cat lay asleep on a chair, a dog under the table. One perceived an +odor of milk, apples, smoke, that indescribable smell peculiar to old +farmhouses; the odor of the earth, of the walls, of furniture, the odor +of spilled stale soup, of former wash-days and of former inhabitants, the +smell of animals and of human beings combined, of things and of persons, +the odor of time, and of things that have passed away. + +I went out to have a look at the farmyard. It was very large, full of +apple trees, dwarfed and crooked, and laden with fruit which fell on the +grass around them. In this farmyard the Norman smell of apples was as +strong as that of the bloom of orange trees on the shores of the south of +France. + +Four rows of beeches surrounded this inclosure. They were so tall that +they seemed to touch the clouds at this hour of nightfall, and their +summits, through which the night winds passed, swayed and sang a +mournful, interminable song. + +I reentered the house. + +The baron was warming his feet at the fire, and was listening to the +farmer's talk about country matters. He talked about marriages, births +and deaths, then about the fall in the price of grain and the latest news +about cattle. The "Veularde" (as he called a cow that had been bought at +the fair of Veules) had calved in the middle of June. The cider had not +been first-class last year. Apricots were almost disappearing from the +country. + +Then we had dinner. It was a good rustic meal, simple and abundant, long +and tranquil. And while we were dining I noticed the special kind of +friendly familiarity which had struck me from the start between the baron +and the peasant. + +Outside, the beeches continued sighing in the night wind, and our two +dogs, shut up in a shed, were whining and howling in an uncanny fashion. +The fire was dying out in the big fireplace. The maid-servant had gone +to bed. Maitre Lebrument said in his turn: + +"If you don't mind, M'sieu le Baron, I'm going to bed. I am not used to +staying up late." + +The baron extended his hand toward him and said: "Go, my friend," in so +cordial a tone that I said, as soon as the man had disappeared: + +"He is devoted to you, this farmer?" + +"Better than that, my dear fellow! It is a drama, an old drama, simple +and very sad, that attaches him to me. Here is the story: + +"You know that my father was colonel in a cavalry regiment. His orderly +was this young fellow, now an old man, the son of a farmer. When my +father retired from the army he took this former soldier, then about +forty; as his servant. I was at that time about thirty. We were living +in our old chateau of Valrenne, near Caudebec-en-Caux. + +"At this period my mother's chambermaid was one of the prettiest girls +you could see, fair-haired, slender and sprightly in manner, a genuine +soubrette of the old type that no longer exists. To-day these creatures +spring up into hussies before their time. Paris, with the aid of the +railways, attracts them, calls them, takes hold of them, as soon as they +are budding into womanhood, these little sluts who in old times remained +simple maid-servants. Every man passing by, as recruiting sergeants did +formerly, looking for recruits, with conscripts, entices and ruins them-- +these foolish lassies--and we have now only the scum of the female sex +for servant maids, all that is dull, nasty, common and ill-formed, too +ugly, even for gallantry. + +"Well, this girl was charming, and I often gave her a kiss in dark +corners; nothing more, I swear to you! She was virtuous, besides; and I +had some respect for my mother's house, which is more than can be said of +the blackguards of the present day. + +"Now, it happened that my man-servant, the ex-soldier, the old farmer you +have just seen, fell madly in love with this girl, perfectly daft. The +first thing we noticed was that he forgot everything, he paid no +attention to anything. + +"My father said incessantly: + +"'See here, Jean, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?' + +"He replied: + +"'No, no, M'sieu le Baron. There's nothing the matter with me.' + +"He grew thin; he broke glasses and let plates fall when waiting on the +table. We thought he must have been attacked by some nervous affection, +and sent for the doctor, who thought he could detect symptoms of spinal +disease. Then my father, full of anxiety about his faithful man-servant, +decided to place him in a private hospital. When the poor fellow heard +of my father's intentions he made a clean breast of it. + +"'M'sieu le Baron' + +"'Well, my boy?' + +"'You see, the thing I want is not physic.' + +"'Ha! what is it, then?' + +"'It's marriage!' + +"My father turned round and stared at him in astonishment. + +"'What's that you say, eh?' + +"'It's marriage." + +"'Marriage! So, then, you jackass, you're to love.' + +"'That's how it is, M'sieu le Baron.' + +"And my father began to laugh so immoderately that my mother called out +through the wall of the next room: + +"'What in the world is the matter with you, Gontran?' + +"He replied: + +"'Come here, Catherine.' + +"And when she came in he told her, with tears in his eyes from sheer +laughter, that his idiot of a servant-man was lovesick. + +"But my mother, instead of laughing, was deeply affected. + +"'Who is it that you have fallen in love with, my poor fellow?' she +asked. + +"He answered without hesitation: + +"'With Louise, Madame le Baronne.' + +"My mother said with the utmost gravity: 'We must try to arrange this +matter the best way we can.' + +"So Louise was sent for and questioned by my mother; and she said in +reply that she knew all about Jean's liking for her, that in fact Jean +had spoken to her about it several times, but that she did not want him. +She refused to say why. + +"And two months elapsed during which my father and mother never ceased to +urge this girl to marry Jean. As she declared she was not in love with +any other man, she could not give any serious reason for her refusal. My +father at last overcame her resistance by means of a big present of +money, and started the pair of them on a farm--this very farm. I did not +see them for three years, and then I learned that Louise had died of +consumption. But my father and mother died, too, in their turn, and it +was two years more before I found myself face to face with Jean. + +"At last one autumn day about the end of October the idea came into my +head to go hunting on this part of my estate, which my father had told me +was full of game. + +"So one evening, one wet evening, I arrived at this house. I was shocked +to find my father's old servant with perfectly white hair, though he was +not more than forty-five or forty-six years of age. I made him dine with +me, at the very table where we are now sitting. It was raining hard. +We could hear the rain battering at the roof, the walls, and the windows, +flowing in a perfect deluge into the farmyard; and my dog was howling in +the shed where the other dogs are howling to-night. + +"All of a sudden, when the servant-maid had gone to bed, the man said in +a timid voice: + +"'M'sieu le Baron.' + +"'What is it, my dear Jean?' + +"'I have something to tell you.' + +"'Tell it, my dear Jean.' + +"'You remember Louise, my wife.' + +"'Certainly, I remember her.' + +"'Well, she left me a message for you.' + +"'What was it?' + +"'A--a--well, it was what you might call a confession.' + +"'Ha--and what was it about?' + +"'It was--it was--I'd rather, all the same, tell you nothing about it-- +but I must--I must. Well, it's this--it wasn't consumption she died of +at all. It was grief--well, that's the long and short of it. As soon as +she came to live here after we were married, she grew thin; she changed +so that you wouldn't know her, M'sieu le Baron. She was just as I was +before I married her, but it was just the opposite, just the opposite. + +"'I sent for the doctor. He said it was her liver that was affected--he +said it was what he called a "hepatic" complaint--I don't know these big +words, M'sieu le Baron. Then I bought medicine for her, heaps on heaps +of bottles that cost about three hundred francs. But she'd take none of +them; she wouldn't have them; she said: "It's no use, my poor Jean; it +wouldn't do me any good." I saw well that she had some hidden trouble; +and then I found her one time crying, and I didn't know what to do, no, +I didn't know what to do. I bought her caps, and dresses, and hair oil, +and earrings. Nothing did her any good. And I saw that she was going to +die. And so one night at the end of November, one snowy night, after she +had been in bed the whole day, she told me to send for the cure. So I +went for him. As soon as he came-- + +"Jean," she said, "I am going to make a confession to you. I owe it to +you, Jean. I have never been false to you, never! never, before or after +you married me. M'sieu le Cure is there, and can tell you so; he knows +my soul. Well, listen, Jean. If I am dying, it is because I was not +able to console myself for leaving the chateau, because I was too fond of +the young Baron Monsieur Rene, too fond of him, mind you, Jean, there was +no harm in it! This is the thing that's killing me. When I could see +him no more I felt that I should die. If I could only have seen him, I +might have lived, only seen him, nothing more. I wish you'd tell him +some day, by and by, when I am no longer here. You will tell him, swear +you, will, Jean--swear it--in the presence of M'sieu le Cure! It will +console me to know that he will know it one day, that this was the cause +of my death! Swear it!" + +'Well, I gave her my promise, M'sieu It Baron, and on the faith of an +honest man I have kept my word.' + +"And then he ceased speaking, his eyes filling with tears. + +"Good God! my dear boy, you can't form any idea of the emotion that +filled me when I heard this poor devil, whose wife I had killed without +suspecting it, telling me this story on that wet night in this very +kitchen. + +"I exclaimed: 'Ah! my poor Jean! my poor Jean!' + +"He murmured: 'Well, that's all, M'sieu le Baron. I could not help it, +one way or the other--and now it's all over!' + +"I caught his hand across the table, and I began to weep. + +"He asked, 'Will you come and see her grave?' I nodded assent, for I +couldn't speak. He rose, lighted a lantern, and we walked through the +blinding rain by the light of the lantern. + +"He opened a gate, and I saw some crosses of black wood. + +"Suddenly he stopped before a marble slab and said: 'There it is,' and he +flashed the lantern close to it so that I could read the inscription: + + "'TO LOUISE HORTENSE MARINET, + "'Wife of Jean-Francois Lebrument, Farmer, + "'SHE WAS A FAITHFUL WIFE. GOD REST HER SOUL.' + +"We fell on our knees in the damp grass, he and I, with the lantern +between us, and I saw the rain beating on the white marble slab. And I +thought of the heart of her sleeping there in her grave. Ah! poor heart! +poor heart! Since then I come here every year. And I don't know why, +but I feel as if I were guilty of some crime in the presence of this man +who always looks as if he forgave me." + + + + + + +THE DEVIL + +The peasant and the doctor stood on opposite sides of the bed, beside the +old, dying woman. She was calm and resigned and her mind quite clear as +she looked at them and listened to their conversation. She was going to +die, and she did not rebel at it, for her time was come, as she was +ninety-two. + +The July sun streamed in at the window and the open door and cast its hot +flames on the uneven brown clay floor, which had been stamped down by +four generations of clodhoppers. The smell of the fields came in also, +driven by the sharp wind and parched by the noontide heat. The grass- +hoppers chirped themselves hoarse, and filled the country with their +shrill noise, which was like that of the wooden toys which are sold to +children at fair time. + +The doctor raised his voice and said: "Honore, you cannot leave your +mother in this state; she may die at any moment." And the peasant, in +great distress, replied: "But I must get in my wheat, for it has been +lying on the ground a long time, and the weather is just right for it; +what do you say about it, mother?" And the dying old woman, still +tormented by her Norman avariciousness, replied yes with her eyes and her +forehead, and thus urged her son to get in his wheat, and to leave her to +die alone. + +But the doctor got angry, and, stamping his foot, he said: "You are no +better than a brute, do you hear, and I will not allow you to do it, do +you understand? And if you must get in your wheat today, go and fetch +Rapet's wife and make her look after your mother; I will have it, do you +understand me? And if you do not obey me, I will let you die like a dog, +when you are ill in your turn; do you hear?" + +The peasant, a tall, thin fellow with slow movements, who was tormented +by indecision, by his fear of the doctor and his fierce love of saving, +hesitated, calculated, and stammered out: "How much does La Rapet charge +for attending sick people?" "How should I know?" the doctor cried. +"That depends upon how long she is needed. Settle it with her, by +Heaven! But I want her to be here within an hour, do you hear?" + +So the man decided. "I will go for her," he replied; "don't get angry, +doctor." And the latter left, calling out as he went: "Be careful, be +very careful, you know, for I do not joke when I am angry!" As soon as +they were alone the peasant turned to his mother and said in a resigned +voice: "I will go and fetch La Rapet, as the man will have it. Don't +worry till I get back." + +And he went out in his turn. + +La Rapet, old was an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of +the neighborhood, and then, as soon as she had sewn her customers into +that linen cloth from which they would emerge no more, she went and took +up her iron to smooth out the linen of the living. Wrinkled like a last +year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious with a phenomenal avarice, +bent double, as if she had been broken in half across the loins by the +constant motion of passing the iron over the linen, one might have said +that she had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a death struggle. +She never spoke of anything but of the people she had seen die, of the +various kinds of deaths at which she had been present, and she related +with the greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just as a +sportsman recounts his luck. + +When Honore Bontemps entered her cottage, he found her preparing the +starch for the collars of the women villagers, and he said: "Good- +evening; I hope you are pretty well, Mother Rapet?" + +She turned her head round to look at him, and said: "As usual, as usual, +and you?" "Oh! as for me, I am as well as I could wish, but my mother is +not well." "Your mother?" "Yes, my mother!" "What is the matter with +her?" "She is going to turn up her toes, that's what's the matter with +her!" + +The old woman took her hands out of the water and asked with sudden +sympathy: "Is she as bad as all that?" "The doctor says she will not +last till morning." "Then she certainly is very bad!" Honore hesitated, +for he wanted to make a few preparatory remarks before coming to his +proposition; but as he could hit upon nothing, he made up his mind +suddenly. + +"How much will you ask to stay with her till the end? You know that I am +not rich, and I can not even afford to keep a servant girl. It is just +that which has brought my poor mother to this state--too much worry and +fatigue! She did the work of ten, in spite of her ninety-two years. You +don't find any made of that stuff nowadays!" + +La Rapet answered gravely: "There are two prices: Forty sous by day and +three francs by night for the rich, and twenty sous by day and forty by +night for the others. You shall pay me the twenty and forty." But the, +peasant reflected, for he knew his mother well. He knew how tenacious of +life, how vigorous and unyielding she was, and she might last another +week, in spite of the doctor's opinion; and so he said resolutely: "No, I +would rather you would fix a price for the whole time until the end. +I will take my chance, one way or the other. The doctor says she will +die very soon. If that happens, so much the better for you, and so much +the worse for her, but if she holds out till to-morrow or longer, so much +the better for her and so much the worse for you!" + +The nurse looked at the man in astonishment, for she had never treated a +death as a speculation, and she hesitated, tempted by the idea of the +possible gain, but she suspected that he wanted to play her a trick. +"I can say nothing until I have seen your mother," she replied. + +"Then come with me and see her." + +She washed her hands, and went with him immediately. + +They did not speak on the road; she walked with short, hasty steps, while +he strode on with his long legs, as if he were crossing a brook at every +step. + +The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their +heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them +for some green grass. + +When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: "Suppose it is +all over?" And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in +the sound of his voice. + +But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her +wretched bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane, +horribly thin, knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like +crabs, half closed by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a +century which she had accomplished. + +La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her +pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her +questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for +some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided +opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked: +"Well?" And the sick-nurse replied: "Well, she may last two days, perhaps +three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included." + +"Six francs! six francs!" he shouted. "Are you out of your mind? I tell +you she cannot last more than five or six hours!" And they disputed +angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the +time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its +own accord, he finally agreed to her terms. + +"Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything, +until the corpse is taken out." + +And he went away, with long strides, to his wheat which was lying on the +ground under the hot sun which ripens the grain, while the sick-nurse +went in again to the house. + +She had brought some work with her, for she worked without ceasing by the +side of the dead and dying, sometimes for herself, sometimes for the +family which employed her as seamstress and paid her rather more in that +capacity. Suddenly, she asked: "Have you received the last sacraments, +Mother Bontemps?" + +The old peasant woman shook her head, and La Rapet, who was very devout, +got up quickly: + +"Good heavens, is it possible? I will go and fetch the cure"; and she +rushed off to the parsonage so quickly that the urchins in the street +thought some accident had happened, when they saw her running. + +The priest came immediately in his surplice, preceded by a choir boy who +rang a bell to announce the passage of the Host through the parched and +quiet country. Some men who were working at a distance took off their +large hats and remained motionless until the white vestment had +disappeared behind some farm buildings; the women who were making up the +sheaves stood up to make the sign of the cross; the frightened black hens +ran away along the ditch until they reached a well-known hole, through +which they suddenly disappeared, while a foal which was tied in a meadow +took fright at the sight of the surplice and began to gallop round and +round, kicking cut every now and then. The acolyte, in his red cassock, +walked quickly, and the priest, with his head inclined toward one +shoulder and his square biretta on his head, followed him, muttering some +prayers; while last of all came La Rapet, bent almost double as if she +wished to prostrate herself, as she walked with folded hands as they do +in church. + +Honore saw them pass in the distance, and he asked: "Where is our priest +going?" His man, who was more intelligent, replied: "He is taking the +sacrament to your mother, of course!" + +The peasant was not surprised, and said: "That may be," and went on with +his work. + +Mother Bontemps confessed, received absolution and communion, and the +priest took his departure, leaving the two women alone in the suffocating +room, while La Rapet began to look at the dying woman, and to ask herself +whether it could last much longer. + +The day was on the wane, and gusts of cooler air began to blow, causing a +view of Epinal, which was fastened to the wall by two pins, to flap up +and down; the scanty window curtains, which had formerly been white, but +were now yellow and covered with fly-specks, looked as if they were going +to fly off, as if they were struggling to get away, like the old woman's +soul. + +Lying motionless, with her eyes open, she seemed to await with +indifference that death which was so near and which yet delayed its +coming. Her short breathing whistled in her constricted throat. It +would stop altogether soon, and there would be one woman less in the +world; no one would regret her. + +At nightfall Honore returned, and when he went up to the bed and saw that +his mother was still alive, he asked: "How is she?" just as he had done +formerly when she had been ailing, and then he sent La Rapet away, saying +to her: "To-morrow morning at five o'clock, without fail." And she +replied: "To-morrow, at five o'clock." + +She came at daybreak, and found Honore eating his soup, which he had made +himself before going to work, and the sick-nurse asked him: "Well, is +your mother dead?" "She is rather better, on the contrary," he replied, +with a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. And he went out. + +La Rapet, seized with anxiety, went up to the dying woman, who remained +in the same state, lethargic and impassive, with her eyes open and her +hands clutching the counterpane. The nurse perceived that this might go +on thus for two days, four days, eight days, and her avaricious mind was +seized with fear, while she was furious at the sly fellow who had tricked +her, and at the woman who would not die. + +Nevertheless, she began to work, and waited, looking intently at the +wrinkled face of Mother Bontemps. When Honore returned to breakfast he +seemed quite satisfied and even in a bantering humor. He was decidedly +getting in his wheat under very favorable circumstances. + +La Rapet was becoming exasperated; every minute now seemed to her so much +time and money stolen from her. She felt a mad inclination to take this +old woman, this, headstrong old fool, this obstinate old wretch, and to +stop that short, rapid breath, which was robbing her of her time and +money, by squeezing her throat a little. But then she reflected on the +danger of doing so, and other thoughts came into her head; so she went up +to the bed and said: "Have you ever seen the Devil?" Mother Bontemps +murmured: "No." + +Then the sick-nurse began to talk and to tell her tales which were likely +to terrify the weak mind of the dying woman. Some minutes before one +dies the Devil appears, she said, to all who are in the death throes. +He has a broom in his hand, a saucepan on his head, and he utters loud +cries. When anybody sees him, all is over, and that person has only a +few moments longer to live. She then enumerated all those to whom the +Devil had appeared that year: Josephine Loisel, Eulalie Ratier, Sophie +Padaknau, Seraphine Grospied. + +Mother Bontemps, who had at last become disturbed in mind, moved about, +wrung her hands, and tried to turn her head to look toward the end of the +room. Suddenly La Rapet disappeared at the foot of the bed. She took a +sheet out of the cupboard and wrapped herself up in it; she put the iron +saucepan on her head, so that its three short bent feet rose up like +horns, and she took a broom in her right hand and a tin pail in her left, +which she threw up suddenly, so that it might fall to the ground noisily. + +When it came down, it certainly made a terrible noise. Then, climbing +upon a chair, the nurse lifted up the curtain which hung at the bottom of +the bed, and showed herself, gesticulating and uttering shrill cries into +the iron saucepan which covered her face, while she menaced the old +peasant woman, who was nearly dead, with her broom. + +Terrified, with an insane expression on her face, the dying woman made a +superhuman effort to get up and escape; she even got her shoulders and +chest out of bed; then she fell back with a deep sigh. All was over, and +La Rapet calmly put everything back into its place; the broom into the +corner by the cupboard the sheet inside it, the saucepan on the hearth, +the pail on the floor, and the chair against the wall. Then, with +professional movements, she closed the dead woman's large eyes, put a +plate on the bed and poured some holy water into it, placing in it the +twig of boxwood that had been nailed to the chest of drawers, and +kneeling down, she fervently repeated the prayers for the dead, which she +knew by heart, as a matter of business. + +And when Honore returned in the evening he found her praying, and he +calculated immediately that she had made twenty sows out of him, for she +had only spent three days and one night there, which made five francs +altogether, instead of the six which he owed her. + + + + + + +THE SNIPE + +Old Baron des Ravots had for forty years been the champion sportsman of +his province. But a stroke of paralysis had kept him in his chair for +the last five or six years. He could now only shoot pigeons from the +window of his drawing-room or from the top of his high doorsteps. + +He spent his time in reading. + +He was a good-natured business man, who had much of the literary spirit +of a former century. He worshipped anecdotes, those little risque +anecdotes, and also true stories of events that happened in his +neighborhood. As soon as a friend came to see him he asked: + +"Well, anything new?" + +And he knew how to worm out information like an examining lawyer. + +On sunny days he had his large reclining chair, similar to a bed, wheeled +to the hall door. A man servant behind him held his guns, loaded them +and handed them to his master. Another valet, hidden in the bushes, let +fly a pigeon from time to time at irregular intervals, so that the baron +should be unprepared and be always on the watch. + +And from morning till night he fired at the birds, much annoyed if he +were taken by surprise and laughing till he cried when the animal fell +straight to the earth or, turned over in some comical and unexpected +manner. He would turn to the man who was loading the gun and say, almost +choking with laughter: + +"Did that get him, Joseph? Did you see how he fell?" Joseph invariably +replied: + +"Oh, monsieur le baron never misses them." + +In autumn, when the shooting season opened, he invited his friends as he +had done formerly, and loved to hear them firing in the distance. He +counted the shots and was pleased when they followed each other rapidly. +And in the evening he made each guest give a faithful account of his day. +They remained three hours at table telling about their sport. + +They were strange and improbable adventures in which the romancing spirit +of the sportsmen delighted. Some of them were memorable stories and were +repeated regularly. The story of a rabbit that little Vicomte de Bourril +had missed in his vestibule convulsed them with laughter each year anew. +Every five minutes a fresh speaker would say: + +"I heard 'birr! birr!' and a magnificent covey rose at ten paces from +me. I aimed. Pif! paf! and I saw a shower, a veritable shower of +birds. There were seven of them!" + +And they all went into raptures, amazed, but reciprocally credulous. + +But there was an old custom in the house called "The Story of the Snipe." + +Whenever this queen of birds was in season the same ceremony took place +at each dinner. As they worshipped this incomparable bird, each guest +ate one every evening, but the heads were all left in the dish. + +Then the baron, acting the part of a bishop, had a plate brought to him +containing a little fat, and he carefully anointed the precious heads, +holding them by the tip of their slender, needle-like beak. A lighted +candle was placed beside him and everyone was silent in an anxiety of +expectation. + +Then he took one of the heads thus prepared, stuck a pin through it and +stuck the pin on a cork, keeping the whole contrivance steady by means of +little crossed sticks, and carefully placed this object on the neck of a +bottle in the manner of a tourniquet. + +All the guests counted simultaneously in a loud tone-- + +"One-two-three." + +And the baron with a fillip of the finger made this toy whirl round. + +The guest to whom the long beak pointed when the head stopped became the +possessor of all the heads, a feast fit for a king, which made his +neighbors look askance. + +He took them one by one and toasted them over the candle. The grease +sputtered, the roasting flesh smoked and the lucky winner ate the head, +holding it by the beak and uttering exclamations of enjoyment. + +And at each head the diners, raising their glasses, drank to his health. + +When he had finished the last head he was obliged, at the baron's orders, +to tell an anecdote to compensate the disappointed ones. + +Here are some of the stories. + + + + + + +THE WILL + +I knew that tall young fellow, Rene de Bourneval. He was an agreeable +man, though rather melancholy and seemed prejudiced against everything, +was very skeptical, and he could with a word tear down social hypocrisy. +He would often say: + +"There are no honorable men, or, at least, they are only relatively so +when compared with those lower than themselves." + +He had two brothers, whom he never saw, the Messieurs de Courcils. I +always supposed they were by another father, on account of the difference +in the name. I had frequently heard that the family had a strange +history, but did not know the details. As I took a great liking to Rene +we soon became intimate friends, and one evening, when I had been dining +with him alone, I asked him, by chance: "Are you a son of the first or +second marriage?" He grew rather pale, and then flushed, and did not +speak for a few moments; he was visibly embarrassed. Then he smiled in +the melancholy, gentle manner, which was peculiar to him, and said: + +"My dear friend, if it will not weary you, I can give you some very +strange particulars about my life. I know that you are a sensible man, +so I do not fear that our friendship will suffer by my I revelations; and +should it suffer, I should not care about having you for my friend any +longer. + +"My mother, Madame de Courcils, was a poor little, timid woman, whom her +husband had married for the sake of her fortune, and her whole life was +one of martyrdom. Of a loving, timid, sensitive disposition, she was +constantly being ill-treated by the man who ought to have been my father, +one of those boors called country gentlemen. A month after their +marriage he was living a licentious life and carrying on liaisons with +the wives and daughters of his tenants. This did not prevent him from +having three children by his wife, that is, if you count me in. My +mother said nothing, and lived in that noisy house like a little mouse. +Set aside, unnoticed, nervous, she looked at people with her bright, +uneasy, restless eyes, the eyes of some terrified creature which can +never shake off its fear. And yet she was pretty, very pretty and fair, +a pale blonde, as if her hair had lost its color through her constant +fear. + +"Among the friends of Monsieur de Courcils who constantly came to her +chateau, there was an ex-cavalry officer, a widower, a man who was +feared, who was at the same time tender and violent, capable of the most +determined resolves, Monsieur de Bourneval, whose name I bear. He was a +tall, thin man, with a heavy black mustache. I am very like him. He was +a man who had read a great deal, and his ideas were not like those of +most of his class. His great-grandmother had been a friend of +J. J. Rousseau's, and one might have said that he had inherited something +of this ancestral connection. He knew the Contrat Social, and the +Nouvelle Heloise by heart, and all those philosophical books which +prepared in advance the overthrow of our old usages, prejudices, +superannuated laws and imbecile morality. + +"It seems that he loved my mother, and she loved him, but their liaison +was carried on so secretly that no one guessed at its existence. The +poor, neglected, unhappy woman must have clung to him in despair, and in +her intimacy with him must have imbibed all his ways of thinking, +theories of free thought, audacious ideas of independent love; but being +so timid she never ventured to speak out, and it was all driven back, +condensed, shut up in her heart. + +"My two brothers were very hard towards her, like their father, and never +gave her a caress, and, accustomed to seeing her count for nothing in the +house, they treated her rather like a servant. I was the only one of her +sons who really loved her and whom she loved. + +"When she died I was seventeen, and I must add, in order that you may +understand what follows, that a lawsuit between my father and mother had +been decided in my mother's favor, giving her the bulk of the property, +and, thanks to the tricks of the law, and the intelligent devotion of a +lawyer to her interests, the right to make her will in favor of whom she +pleased. + +"We were told that there was a will at the lawyer's office and were +invited to be present at the reading of it. I can remember it, as if it +were yesterday. It was an imposing scene, dramatic, burlesque and +surprising, occasioned by the posthumous revolt of that dead woman, by +the cry for liberty, by the demands of that martyred one who had been +crushed by our oppression during her lifetime and who, from her closed +tomb, uttered a despairing appeal for independence. + +"The man who believed he was my father, a stout, ruddy-faced man, who +looked like a butcher, and my brothers, two great fellows of twenty and +twenty-two, were waiting quietly in their chairs. Monsieur de Bourneval, +who had been invited to be present, came in and stood behind me. He was +very pale and bit his mustache, which was turning gray. No doubt he was +prepared for what was going to happen. The lawyer double-locked the door +and began to read the will, after having opened, in our presence, the +envelope, sealed with red wax, of the contents of which he was ignorant." + +My friend stopped talking abruptly, and rising, took from his writing- +table an old paper, unfolded it, kissed it and then continued: "This is +the will of my beloved mother: + + "'I, the undersigned, Anne Catherine-Genevieve-Mathilde de + Croixluce, the legitimate wife of Leopold-Joseph Gontran de Councils + sound in body and mind, here express my last wishes. + + "I first of all ask God, and then my dear son Rene to pardon me for + the act I am about to commit. I believe that my child's heart is + great enough to understand me, and to forgive me. I have suffered + my whole life long. I was married out of calculation, then + despised, misunderstood, oppressed and constantly deceived by my + husband. + + "'I forgive him, but I owe him nothing. + + "'My elder sons never loved me, never petted me, scarcely treated me + as a mother, but during my whole life I did my duty towards them, + and I owe them nothing more after my death. The ties of blood + cannot exist without daily and constant affection. An ungrateful + son is less than, a stranger; he is a culprit, for he has no right + to be indifferent towards his mother. + + "'I have always trembled before men, before their unjust laws, their + inhuman customs, their shameful prejudices. Before God, I have no + longer any fear. Dead, I fling aside disgraceful hypocrisy; I dare + to speak my thoughts, and to avow and to sign the secret of my + heart. + + "'I therefore leave that part of my fortune of which the law allows + me to dispose, in trust to my dear lover, Pierre-Germer-Simon de + Bourneval, to revert afterwards to our dear son Rene. + + "'(This bequest is specified more precisely in a deed drawn + up by a notary.) + + "'And I declare before the Supreme Judge who hears me, that I should + have cursed heaven and my own existence, if I had not found the + deep, devoted, tender, unshaken affection of my lover; if I had not + felt in his arms that the Creator made His creatures to love, + sustain and console each other, and to weep together in the hours of + sadness. + + "'Monsieur de Courcils is the father of my two eldest sons; Rene, + alone, owes his life to Monsieur de Bourneval. I pray the Master of + men and of their destinies, to place father and son above social + prejudices, to make them love each other until they die, and to love + me also in my coffin. + + "'These are my last thoughts, and my last wish. + + "'MATHILDE DE CROIXLUCE.'" + + +"Monsieur de Courcils had risen and he cried: + +"'It is the will of a madwoman.' + +"Then Monsieur de Bourneval stepped forward and said in a loud, +penetrating voice: 'I, Simon de Bourneval, solemnly declare that this +writing contains nothing but the strict truth, and I am ready to prove it +by letters which I possess.' + +"On hearing that, Monsieur de Courcils went up to him, and I 'thought +that they were going to attack each other. There they stood, both of +them tall, one stout and the other thin, both trembling. My mother's +husband stammered out: 'You are a worthless wretch!' And the other +replied in a loud, dry voice: 'We will meet elsewhere, monsieur. +I should have already slapped your ugly face and challenged you long +since if I had not, before everything else, thought of the peace of mind +during her lifetime of that poor woman whom you caused to suffer so +greatly.' + +"Then, turning to me, he said: 'You are my son; will you come with me? +I have no right to take you away, but I shall assume it, if you are +willing to come with me: I shook his hand without replying, and we went +out together. I was certainly three parts mad. + +"Two days later Monsieur de Bourneval killed Monsieur de Courcils in a +duel. My brothers, to avoid a terrible scandal, held their tongues. +I offered them and they accepted half the fortune which my mother had +left me. I took my real father's name, renouncing that which the law +gave me, but which was not really mine. Monsieur de Bourneval died three +years later and I am still inconsolable." + +He rose from his chair, walked up and down the room, and, standing in +front of me, said: + +"Well, I say that my mother's will was one of the most beautiful, the +most loyal, as well as one of the grandest acts that a woman could +perform. Do you not think so?" + +I held out both hands to him, saying: + +"I most certainly do, my friend." + + + + + + +WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE + +Ever since he entered France with the invading army Walter Schnaffs had +considered himself the most unfortunate of men. He was large, had +difficulty in walking, was short of breath and suffered frightfully with +his feet, which were very flat and very fat. But he was a peaceful, +benevolent man, not warlike or sanguinary, the father of four children +whom he adored, and married to a little blonde whose little tendernesses, +attentions and kisses he recalled with despair every evening. He liked +to rise late and retire early, to eat good things in a leisurely manner +and to drink beer in the saloon. He reflected, besides, that all that is +sweet in existence vanishes with life, and he maintained in his heart a +fearful hatred, instinctive as well as logical, for cannon, rifles, +revolvers and swords, but especially for bayonets, feeling that he was +unable to dodge this dangerous weapon rapidly enough to protect his big +paunch. + +And when night fell and he lay on the ground, wrapped in his cape beside +his comrades who were snoring, he thought long and deeply about those he +had left behind and of the dangers in his path. "If he were killed what +would become of the little ones? Who would provide for them and bring +them up?" Just at present they were not rich, although he had borrowed +when he left so as to leave them some money. And Walter Schnaffs wept +when he thought of all this. + +At the beginning of a battle his legs became so weak that he would have +fallen if he had not reflected that the entire army would pass over his +body. The whistling of the bullets gave him gooseflesh. + +For months he had lived thus in terror and anguish. + +His company was marching on Normandy, and one day he was sent to +reconnoitre with a small detachment, simply to explore a portion of the +territory and to return at once. All seemed quiet in the country; +nothing indicated an armed resistance. + +But as the Prussians were quietly descending into a little valley +traversed by deep ravines a sharp fusillade made them halt suddenly, +killing twenty of their men, and a company of sharpshooters, suddenly +emerging from a little wood as large as your hand, darted forward with +bayonets at the end of their rifles. + +Walter Schnaffs remained motionless at first, so surprised and bewildered +that he did not even think of making his escape. Then he was seized with +a wild desire to run away, but he remembered at once that he ran like a +tortoise compared with those thin Frenchmen, who came bounding along like +a lot of goats. Perceiving a large ditch full of brushwood covered with +dead leaves about six paces in front of him, he sprang into it with both +feet together, without stopping to think of its depth, just as one jumps +from a bridge into the river. + +He fell like an arrow through a thick layer of vines and thorny brambles +that tore his face and hands and landed heavily in a sitting posture on a +bed of stones. Raising his eyes, he saw the sky through the hole he had +made in falling through. This aperture might betray him, and he crawled +along carefully on hands and knees at the bottom of this ditch beneath +the covering of interlacing branches, going as fast as he could and +getting away from the scene of the skirmish. Presently he stopped and +sat down, crouched like a hare amid the tall dry grass. + +He heard firing and cries and groans going on for some time. Then the +noise of fighting grew fainter and ceased. All was quiet and silent. + +Suddenly something stirred, beside him. He was frightfully startled. It +was a little bird which had perched on a branch and was moving the dead +leaves. For almost an hour Walter Schnaffs' heart beat loud and rapidly. + +Night fell, filling the ravine with its shadows. The soldier began to +think. What was he to do? What was to become of him? Should he rejoin +the army? But how? By what road? And he began over again the horrible +life of anguish, of terror, of fatigue and suffering that he had led +since the commencement of the war. No! He no longer had the courage! +He would not have the energy necessary to endure long marches and to face +the dangers to which one was exposed at every moment. + +But what should he do? He could not stay in this ravine in concealment +until the end of hostilities. No, indeed! If it were not for having to +eat, this prospect would not have daunted him greatly. But he had to +eat, to eat every day. + +And here he was, alone, armed and in uniform, on the enemy's territory, +far from those who would protect him. A shiver ran over him. + +All at once he thought: "If I were only a prisoner!" And his heart +quivered with a longing, an intense desire to be taken prisoner by the +French. A prisoner, he would be saved, fed, housed, sheltered from +bullets and swords, without any apprehension whatever, in a good, well- +kept prison. A prisoner! What a dream: + +His resolution was formed at once. + +"I will constitute myself a prisoner." + +He rose, determined to put this plan into execution without a moment's +delay. But he stood motionless, suddenly a prey to disturbing +reflections and fresh terrors. + +Where would he make himself a prisoner and how? In What direction? And +frightful pictures, pictures of death came into his mind. + +He would run terrible danger in venturing alone through the country with +his pointed helmet. + +Supposing he should meet some peasants. These peasants seeing a Prussian +who had lost his way, an unprotected Prussian, would kill him as if he +were a stray dog! They would murder him with their forks, their picks, +their scythes and their shovels. They would make a stew of him, a pie, +with the frenzy of exasperated, conquered enemies. + +If he should meet the sharpshooters! These sharpshooters, madmen without +law or discipline, would shoot him just for amusement to pass an hour; it +would make them laugh to see his head. And he fancied he was already +leaning against a wall in-front of four rifles whose little black +apertures seemed to be gazing at him. + +Supposing he should meet the French army itself. The vanguard would take +him for a scout, for some bold and sly trooper who had set off alone to +reconnoitre, and they would fire at him. And he could already hear, in +imagination, the irregular shots of soldiers lying in the brush, while he +himself, standing in the middle of the field, was sinking to the earth, +riddled like a sieve with bullets which he felt piercing his flesh. + +He sat down again in despair. His situation seemed hopeless. + +It was quite a dark, black and silent night. He no longer budged, +trembling at all the slight and unfamiliar sounds that occur at night. +The sound of a rabbit crouching at the edge of his burrow almost made him +run. The cry of an owl caused him positive anguish, giving him a nervous +shock that pained like a wound. He opened his big eyes as wide as +possible to try and see through the darkness, and he imagined every +moment that he heard someone walking close beside him. + +After interminable hours in which he suffered the tortures of the damned, +he noticed through his leafy cover that the sky was becoming bright. He +at once felt an intense relief. His limbs stretched out, suddenly +relaxed, his heart quieted down, his eyes closed; he fell asleep. + +When he awoke the sun appeared to be almost at the meridian. It must be +noon. No sound disturbed the gloomy silence. Walter Schnaffs noticed +that he was exceedingly hungry. + +He yawned, his mouth watering at the thought of sausage, the good sausage +the soldiers have, and he felt a gnawing at his stomach. + +He rose from the ground, walked a few steps, found that his legs were +weak and sat down to reflect. For two or three hours he again considered +the pros and cons, changing his mind every moment, baffled, unhappy, torn +by the most conflicting motives. + +Finally he had an idea that seemed logical and practical. It was to +watch for a villager passing by alone, unarmed and with no dangerous +tools of his trade, and to run to him and give himself up, making him +understand that he was surrendering. + +He took off his helmet, the point of which might betray him, and put his +head out of his hiding place with the utmost caution. + +No solitary pedestrian could be perceived on the horizon. Yonder, to the +right, smoke rose from the chimney of a little village, smoke from +kitchen fires! And yonder, to the left, he saw at the end of an avenue +of trees a large turreted chateau. He waited till evening, suffering +frightfully from hunger, seeing nothing but flights of crows, hearing +nothing but the silent expostulation of his empty stomach. + +And darkness once more fell on him. + +He stretched himself out in his retreat and slept a feverish sleep, +haunted by nightmares, the sleep of a starving man. + +Dawn again broke above his head and he began to make his observations. +But the landscape was deserted as on the previous day, and a new fear +came into Walter Schnaffs' mind--the fear of death by hunger! He +pictured himself lying at full length on his back at the bottom of his +hiding place, with his two eyes closed, and animals, little creatures of +all kinds, approached and began to feed on his dead body, attacking it +all over at once, gliding beneath his clothing to bite his cold flesh, +and a big crow pecked out his eyes with its sharp beak. + +He almost became crazy, thinking he was going to faint and would not be +able to walk. And he was just preparing to rush off to the village, +determined to dare anything, to brave everything, when he perceived three +peasants walking to the fields with their forks across their shoulders, +and he dived back into his hiding place. + +But as soon as it grew dark he slowly emerged from the ditch and started +off, stooping and fearful, with beating heart, towards the distant +chateau, preferring to go there rather than to the village, which seemed +to him as formidable as a den of tigers. + +The lower windows were brilliantly lighted. One of them was open and +from it escaped a strong odor of roast meat, an odor which suddenly +penetrated to the olfactories and to the stomach of Walter Schnaffs, +tickling his nerves, making him breathe quickly, attracting him +irresistibly and inspiring his heart with the boldness of desperation. + +And abruptly, without reflection, he placed himself, helmet on head, in +front of the window. + +Eight servants were at dinner around a large table. But suddenly one of +the maids sat there, her mouth agape, her eyes fixed and letting fall her +glass. They all followed the direction of her gaze. + +They saw the enemy! + +Good God! The Prussians were attacking the chateau! + +There was a shriek, only one shriek made up of eight shrieks uttered in +eight different keys, a terrific screaming of terror, then a tumultuous +rising from their seats, a jostling, a scrimmage and a wild rush to the +door at the farther end. Chairs fell over, the men knocked the women +down and walked over them. In two seconds the room was empty, deserted, +and the table, covered with eatables, stood in front of Walter Schnaffs, +lost in amazement and still standing at the window. + +After some moments of hesitation he climbed in at the window and +approached the table. His fierce hunger caused him to tremble as if he +were in a fever, but fear still held him back, numbed him. He listened. +The entire house seemed to shudder. Doors closed, quick steps ran along +the floor above. The uneasy Prussian listened eagerly to these confused +sounds. Then he heard dull sounds, as though bodies were falling to the +ground at the foot of the walls, human beings jumping from the first +floor. + +Then all motion, all disturbance ceased, and the great chateau became as +silent as the grave. + +Walter Schnaffs sat down before a clean plate and began to eat. He took +great mouthfuls, as if he feared he might be interrupted before he had +swallowed enough. He shovelled the food into his mouth, open like a +trap, with both hands, and chunks of food went into his stomach, swelling +out his throat as it passed down. Now and then he stopped, almost ready +to burst like a stopped-up pipe. Then he would take the cider jug and +wash down his esophagus as one washes out a clogged rain pipe. + +He emptied all the plates, all the dishes and all the bottles. Then, +intoxicated with drink and food, besotted, red in the face, shaken by +hiccoughs, his mind clouded and his speech thick, he unbuttoned his +uniform in order to breathe or he could not have taken a step. His eyes +closed, his mind became torpid; he leaned his heavy forehead on his +folded arms on the table and gradually lost all consciousness of things +and events. + +The last quarter of the moon above the trees in the park shed a faint +light on the landscape. It was the chill hour that precedes the dawn. + +Numerous silent shadows glided among the trees and occasionally a blade +of steel gleamed in the shadow as a ray of moonlight struck it. + +The quiet chateau stood there in dark outline. Only two windows were +still lighted up on the ground floor. + +Suddenly a voice thundered: + +"Forward! nom d'un nom! To the breach, my lads!" + +And in an instant the doors, shutters and window panes fell in beneath a +wave of men who rushed in, breaking, destroying everything, and took the +house by storm. In a moment fifty soldiers, armed to the teeth, bounded +into the kitchen, where Walter Schnaffs was peacefully sleeping, and +placing to his breast fifty loaded rifles, they overturned him, rolled +him on the floor, seized him and tied his head and feet together. + +He gasped in amazement, too besotted to understand, perplexed, bruised +and wild with fear. + +Suddenly a big soldier, covered with gold lace, put his foot on his +stomach, shouting: + +"You are my prisoner. Surrender!" + +The Prussian heard only the one word "prisoner" and he sighed, "Ya, ya, +ya." + +He was raised from the floor, tied in a chair and examined with lively +curiosity by his victors, who were blowing like whales. Several of them +sat down, done up with excitement and fatigue. + +He smiled, actually smiled, secure now that he was at last a prisoner. + +Another officer came into the room and said: + +"Colonel, the enemy has escaped; several seem to have been wounded. We +are in possession." + +The big officer, who was wiping his forehead, exclaimed: "Victory!" + +And he wrote in a little business memorandum book which he took from his +pocket: + +"After a desperate encounter the Prussians were obliged to beat a +retreat, carrying with them their dead and wounded, the number of whom is +estimated at fifty men. Several were taken prisoners." + +The young officer inquired: + +"What steps shall I take, colonel?" + +"We will retire in good order," replied the colonel, "to avoid having to +return and make another attack with artillery and a larger force of men." + +And he gave the command to set out. + +The column drew up in line in the darkness beneath the walls of the +chateau and filed out, a guard of six soldiers with revolvers in their +hands surrounding Walter Schnaffs, who was firmly bound. + +Scouts were sent ahead to reconnoitre. They advanced cautiously, halting +from time to time. + +At daybreak they arrived at the district of La Roche-Oysel, whose +national guard had accomplished this feat of arms. + +The uneasy and excited inhabitants were expecting them. When they saw +the prisoner's helmet tremendous shouts arose. The women raised their 10 +arms in wonder, the old people wept. An old grandfather threw his crutch +at the Prussian and struck the nose of one of their own defenders. + +The colonel roared: + +"See that the prisoner is secure!" + +At length they reached the town hall. The prison was opened and Walter +Schnaffs, freed from his bonds, cast into it. Two hundred armed men +mounted guard outside the building. + +Then, in spite of the indigestion that had been troubling him for some +time, the Prussian, wild with joy, began to dance about, to dance +frantically, throwing out his arms and legs and uttering wild shouts +until he fell down exhausted beside the wall. + +He was a prisoner-saved! + +That was how the Chateau de Charnpignet was taken from the enemy after +only six hours of occupation. + +Colonel Ratier, a cloth merchant, who had led the assault at the head of +a body of the national guard of La Roche-Oysel, was decorated with an +order. + + + + + + +AT SEA + +The following paragraphs recently appeared in the papers: + +"Boulogne-Sur-Mer, January 22.--Our correspondent writes: + +"A fearful accident has thrown our sea-faring population, which has +suffered so much in the last two years, into the greatest consternation. +The fishing smack commanded by Captain Javel, on entering the harbor was +wrecked on the rocks of the harbor breakwater. + +"In spite of the efforts of the life boat and the shooting of life lines +from the shore four sailors and the cabin boy were lost. + +"The rough weather continues. Fresh disasters are anticipated." + +Who is this Captain Javel? Is he the brother of the one-armed man? + +If the poor man tossed about in the waves and dead, perhaps, beneath his +wrecked boat, is the one I am thinking of, he took part, just eighteen +years ago, in another tragedy, terrible and simple as are all these +fearful tragedies of the sea. + +Javel, senior, was then master of a trawling smack. + +The trawling smack is the ideal fishing boat. So solidly built that it +fears no weather, with a round bottom, tossed about unceasingly on the +waves like a cork, always on top, always thrashed by the harsh salt winds +of the English Channel, it ploughs the sea unweariedly with bellying +sail, dragging along at its side a huge trawling net, which scours the +depths of the ocean, and detaches and gathers in all the animals asleep +in the rocks, the flat fish glued to the sand, the heavy crabs with their +curved claws, and the lobsters with their pointed mustaches. + +When the breeze is fresh and the sea choppy, the boat starts in to trawl. +The net is fastened all along a big log of wood clamped with iron and is +let down by two ropes on pulleys at either end of the boat. And the +boat, driven by the wind and the tide, draws along this apparatus which +ransacks and plunders the depths of the sea. + +Javel had on board his younger brother, four sailors and a cabin boy. He +had set sail from Boulogne on a beautiful day to go trawling. + +But presently a wind sprang up, and a hurricane obliged the smack to run +to shore. She gained the English coast, but the high sea broke against +the rocks and dashed on the beach, making it impossible to go into port, +filling all the harbor entrances with foam and noise and danger. + +The smack started off again, riding on the waves, tossed, shaken, +dripping, buffeted by masses of water, but game in spite of everything; +accustomed to this boisterous weather, which sometimes kept it roving +between the two neighboring countries without its being able to make port +in either. + +At length the hurricane calmed down just as they were in the open, and +although the sea was still high the captain gave orders to cast the net. + +So it was lifted overboard, and two men in the bows and two in the stern +began to unwind the ropes that held it. It suddenly touched bottom, but +a big wave made the boat heel, and Javel, junior, who was in the bows +directing the lowering of the net, staggered, and his arm was caught in +the rope which the shock had slipped from the pulley for an instant. He +made a desperate effort to raise the rope with the other hand, but the +net was down and the taut rope did not give. + +The man cried out in agony. They all ran to his aid. His brother left +the rudder. They all seized the rope, trying to free the arm it was +bruising. But in vain. "We must cut it," said a sailor, and he took +from his pocket a big knife, which, with two strokes, could save young +Javel's arm. + +But if the rope were cut the trawling net would be lost, and this net was +worth money, a great deal of money, fifteen hundred francs. And it +belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. + +"No, do not cut, wait, I will luff," he cried, in great distress. And he +ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, +being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented +also by the force of the tide and the wind. + +Javel, junior, had sunk on his knees, his teeth clenched, his eyes +haggard. He did not utter a word. His brother came back to him, in +dread of the sailor's knife. + +"Wait, wait," he said. "We will let down the anchor." + +They cast anchor, and then began to turn the capstan to loosen the +moorings of the net. They loosened them at length and disengaged the +imprisoned arm, in its bloody woolen sleeve. + +Young Javel seemed like an idiot. They took off his jersey and saw a +horrible sight, a mass of flesh from which the blood spurted as if from a +pump. Then the young man looked at his arm and murmured: "Foutu" (done +for). + +Then, as the blood was making a pool on the deck of the boat, one of the +sailors cried: "He will bleed to death, we must bind the vein." + +So they took a cord, a thick, brown, tarry cord, and twisting it around +the arm above the wound, tightened it with all their might. The blood +ceased to spurt by slow degrees, and, presently, stopped altogether. + +Young Javel rose, his arm hanging at his side. He took hold of it with +the other hand, raised it, turned it over, shook it. It was all mashed, +the bones broken, the muscles alone holding it together. He looked at it +sadly, reflectively. Then he sat down on a folded sail and his comrades +advised him to keep wetting the arm constantly to prevent it from +mortifying. + +They placed a pail of water beside him, and every few minutes he dipped a +glass into it and bathed the frightful wound, letting the clear water +trickle on to it. + +"You would be better in the cabin," said his brother. He went down, but +came up again in an hour, not caring to be alone. And, besides, he +preferred the fresh air. He sat down again on his sail and began to +bathe his arm. + +They made a good haul. The broad fish with their white bellies lay +beside him, quivering in the throes of death; he looked at them as he +continued to bathe his crushed flesh. + +As they were about to return to Boulogne the wind sprang up anew, and the +little boat resumed its mad course, bounding and tumbling about, shaking +up the poor wounded man. + +Night came on. The sea ran high until dawn. As the sun rose the English +coast was again visible, but, as the weather had abated a little, they +turned back towards the French coast, tacking as they went. + +Towards evening Javel, junior, called his comrades and showed them some +black spots, all the horrible tokens of mortification in the portion of +the arm below the broken bones. + +The sailors examined it, giving their opinion. + +"That might be the 'Black,'" thought one. + +"He should put salt water on it," said another. + +They brought some salt water and poured it on the wound. The injured man +became livid, ground his teeth and writhed a little, but did not exclaim. + +Then, as soon as the smarting had abated, he said to his brother: + +"Give me your knife." + +The brother handed it to him. + +"Hold my arm up, quite straight, and pull it." + +They did as he asked them. + +Then he began to cut off his arm. He cut gently, carefully, severing al +the tendons with this blade that was sharp as a razor. And, presently, +there was only a stump left. He gave a deep sigh and said: + +"It had to be done. It was done for." + +He seemed relieved and breathed loud. He then began again to pour water +on the stump of arm that remained. + +The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. + +When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm +and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also +examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it +over, and sniffing at it. + +"You must throw that into the sea at once," said his brother. + +But Javel, junior, got angry. + +"Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it +is my arm?" + +And he took and placed it between his feet. + +"It will putrefy, just the same," said the older brother. Then an idea +came to the injured man. In order to preserve the fish when the boat was +long at sea, they packed it in salt, in barrels. He asked: + +"Why can I not put it in pickle?" + +"Why, that's a fact," exclaimed the others. + +Then they emptied one of the barrels, which was full from the haul of the +last few days; and right at the bottom of the barrel they laid the +detached arm. They covered it with salt, and then put back the fish one +by one. + +One of the sailors said by way of joke: + +"I hope we do not sell it at auction." + +And everyone laughed, except the two Javels. + +The wind was still boisterous. They tacked within sight of Boulogne +until the following morning at ten o'clock. Young Javel continued to +bathe his wound. From time to time he rose and walked from one end to +the other of the boat. + +His brother, who was at the tiller, followed him with glances, and shook +his head. + +At last they ran into harbor. + +The doctor examined the wound and pronounced it to be in good condition. +He dressed it properly and ordered the patient to rest. But Javel would +not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once +to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross. + +It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved +in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel +he had brought for the purpose and took it home. + +His wife and children looked for a long time at this fragment of their +father, feeling the fingers, and removing the grains of salt that were +under the nails. Then they sent for a carpenter to make a little coffin. + +The next day the entire crew of the trawling smack followed the funeral +of the detached arm. The two brothers, side by side, led the procession; +the parish beadle carried the corpse under his arm. + +Javel, junior, gave up the sea. He obtained a small position on the +dock, and when he subsequently talked about his accident, he would say +confidentially to his auditors: + +"If my brother had been willing to cut away the net, I should still have +my arm, that is sure. But he was thinking only of his property." + + + + + + +MINUET + +Great misfortunes do not affect me very much, said John Bridelle, an old +bachelor who passed for a sceptic. I have seen war at quite close +quarters; I walked across corpses without any feeling of pity. The great +brutal facts of nature, or of humanity, may call forth cries of horror or +indignation, but do not cause us that tightening of the heart, that +shudder that goes down your spine at sight of certain little heartrending +episodes. + +The greatest sorrow that anyone can experience is certainly the loss of a +child, to a mother; and the loss of his mother, to a man. It is intense, +terrible, it rends your heart and upsets your mind; but one is healed of +these shocks, just as large bleeding wounds become healed. Certain +meetings, certain things half perceived, or surmised, certain secret +sorrows, certain tricks of fate which awake in us a whole world of +painful thoughts, which suddenly unclose to us the mysterious door of +moral suffering, complicated, incurable; all the deeper because they +appear benign, all the more bitter because they are intangible, all the +more tenacious because they appear almost factitious, leave in our souls +a sort of trail of sadness, a taste of bitterness, a feeling of +disenchantment, from which it takes a long time to free ourselves. + +I have always present to my mind two or three things that others would +surely not have noticed, but which penetrated my being like fine, sharp +incurable stings. + +You might not perhaps understand the emotion that I retained from these +hasty impressions. I will tell you one of them. She was very old, but +as lively as a young girl. It may be that my imagination alone is +responsible for my emotion. + +I am fifty. I was young then and studying law. I was rather sad, +somewhat of a dreamer, full of a pessimistic philosophy and did not care +much for noisy cafes, boisterous companions, or stupid girls. I rose +early and one of my chief enjoyments was to walk alone about eight +o'clock in the morning in the nursery garden of the Luxembourg. + +You people never knew that nursery garden. It was like a forgotten +garden of the last century, as pretty as the gentle smile of an old lady. +Thick hedges divided the narrow regular paths,--peaceful paths between +two walls of carefully trimmed foliage. The gardener's great shears were +pruning unceasingly these leafy partitions, and here and there one came +across beds of flowers, lines of little trees looking like schoolboys out +for a walk, companies of magnificent rose bushes, or regiments of fruit +trees. + +An entire corner of this charming spot was in habited by bees. Their +straw hives skillfully arranged at distances on boards had their +entrances--as large as the opening of a thimble--turned towards the sun, +and all along the paths one encountered these humming and gilded flies, +the true masters of this peaceful spot, the real promenaders of these +quiet paths. + +I came there almost every morning. I sat down on a bench and read. +Sometimes I let my book fall on my knees, to dream, to listen to the life +of Paris around me, and to enjoy the infinite repose of these old- +fashioned hedges. + +But I soon perceived that I was not the only one to frequent this spot as +soon as the gates were opened, and I occasionally met face to face, at a +turn in the path, a strange little old man. + +He wore shoes with silver buckles, knee-breeches, a snuff-colored frock +coat, a lace jabot, and an outlandish gray hat with wide brim and long- +haired surface that might have come out of the ark. + +He was thin, very thin, angular, grimacing and smiling. His bright eyes +were restless beneath his eyelids which blinked continuously. He always +carried in his hand a superb cane with a gold knob, which must have been +for him some glorious souvenir. + +This good man astonished me at first, then caused me the intensest +interest. I watched him through the leafy walls, I followed him at a +distance, stopping at a turn in the hedge so as not to be seen. + +And one morning when he thought he was quite alone, he began to make the +most remarkable motions. First he would give some little springs, then +make a bow; then, with his slim legs, he would give a lively spring in +the air, clapping his feet as he did so, and then turn round cleverly, +skipping and frisking about in a comical manner, smiling as if he had an +audience, twisting his poor little puppet-like body, bowing pathetic and +ridiculous little greetings into the empty air. He was dancing. + +I stood petrified with amazement, asking myself which of us was crazy, he +or I. + +He stopped suddenly, advanced as actors do on the stage, then bowed and +retreated with gracious smiles, and kissing his hand as actors do, his +trembling hand, to the two rows of trimmed bushes. + +Then he continued his walk with a solemn demeanor. + +After that I never lost sight of him, and each morning he began anew his +outlandish exercises. + +I was wildly anxious to speak to him. I decided to risk it, and one day, +after greeting him, I said: + +"It is a beautiful day, monsieur." + +He bowed. + +"Yes, sir, the weather is just as it used to be." + +A week later we were friends and I knew his history. He had been a +dancing master at the opera, in the time of Louis XV. His beautiful cane +was a present from the Comte de Clermont. And when we spoke about +dancing he never stopping talking. + +One day he said to me: + +"I married La Castris, monsieur. I will introduce you to her if you wish +it, but she does not get here till later. This garden, you see, is our +delight and our life. It is all that remains of former days. It seems +as though we could not exist if we did not have it. It is old and +distingue, is it not? I seem to breathe an air here that has not changed +since I was young. My wife and I pass all our afternoons here, but I +come in the morning because I get up early." + +As soon as I had finished luncheon I returned to the Luxembourg, and +presently perceived my friend offering his arm ceremoniously to a very +old little lady dressed in black, to whom he introduced me. It was La +Castris, the great dancer, beloved by princes, beloved by the king, +beloved by all that century of gallantry that seems to have left behind +it in the world an atmosphere of love. + +We sat down on a bench. It was the month of May. An odor of flowers +floated in the neat paths; a hot sun glided its rays between the branches +and covered us with patches of light. The black dress of La Castris +seemed to be saturated with sunlight. + +The garden was empty. We heard the rattling of vehicles in the distance. + +"Tell me," I said to the old dancer, "what was the minuet?" + +He gave a start. + +"The minuet, monsieur, is the queen of dances, and the dance of queens, +do you understand? Since there is no longer any royalty, there is no +longer any minuet." + +And he began in a pompous manner a long dithyrambic eulogy which I could +not understand. I wanted to have the steps, the movements, the +positions, explained to me. He became confused, was amazed at his +inability to make me understand, became nervous and worried. + +Then suddenly, turning to his old companion who had remained silent and +serious, he said: + +"Elise, would you like--say--would you like, it would be very nice of +you, would you like to show this gentleman what it was?" + +She turned eyes uneasily in all directions, then rose without saying a +word and took her position opposite him. + +Then I witnessed an unheard-of thing. + +They advanced and retreated with childlike grimaces, smiling, swinging +each other, bowing, skipping about like two automaton dolls moved by some +old mechanical contrivance, somewhat damaged, but made by a clever +workman according to the fashion of his time. + +And I looked at them, my heart filled with extraordinary emotions, my +soul touched with an indescribable melancholy. I seemed to see before me +a pathetic and comical apparition, the out-of-date ghost of a former +century. + +They suddenly stopped. They had finished all the figures of the dance. +For some seconds they stood opposite each other, smiling in an +astonishing manner. Then they fell on each other's necks sobbing. + +I left for the provinces three days later. I never saw them again. +When I returned to Paris, two years later, the nursery had been +destroyed. What became of them, deprived of the dear garden of former +days, with its mazes, its odor of the past, and the graceful windings of +its hedges? + +Are they dead? Are they wandering among modern streets like hopeless +exiles? Are they dancing--grotesque spectres--a fantastic minuet in the +moonlight, amid the cypresses of a cemetery, along the pathways bordered +by graves? + +Their memory haunts me, obsesses me, torments me, remains with me like a +wound. Why? I do not know. + +No doubt you think that very absurd? + + + + + + +THE SON + +The two old friends were walking in the garden in bloom, where spring was +bringing everything to life. + +One was a senator, the other a member of the French Academy, both serious +men, full of very logical but solemn arguments, men of note and +reputation. + +They talked first of politics, exchanging opinions; not on ideas, but on +men, personalities in this regard taking the predominance over ability. +Then they recalled some memories. Then they walked along in silence, +enervated by the warmth of the air. + +A large bed of wallflowers breathed out a delicate sweetness. A mass of +flowers of all species and color flung their fragrance to the breeze, +while a cytisus covered with yellow clusters scattered its fine pollen +abroad, a golden cloud, with an odor of honey that bore its balmy seed +across space, similar to the sachet-powders of perfumers. + +The senator stopped, breathed in the cloud of floating pollen, looked at +the fertile shrub, yellow as the sun, whose seed was floating in the air, +and said: + +"When one considers that these imperceptible fragrant atoms will create +existences at a hundred leagues from here, will send a thrill through the +fibres and sap of female trees and produce beings with roots, growing +from a germ, just as we do, mortal like ourselves, and who will be +replaced by other beings of the same order, like ourselves again!" + +And, standing in front of the brilliant cytisus, whose live pollen was +shaken off by each breath of air, the senator added: + +"Ah, old fellow, if you had to keep count of all your children you would +be mightily embarrassed. Here is one who generates freely, and then lets +them go without a pang and troubles himself no more about them." + +"We do the same, my friend," said the academician. + +"Yes, I do not deny it; we let them go sometimes," resumed the senator, +"but we are aware that we do, and that constitutes our superiority." + +"No, that is not what I mean," said the other, shaking his head. +"You see, my friend, that there is scarcely a man who has not some +children that he does not know, children--'father unknown'--whom he has +generated almost unconsciously, just as this tree reproduces. + +"If we had to keep account of our amours, we should be just as +embarrassed as this cytisus which you apostrophized would be in counting +up his descendants, should we not? + +"From eighteen to forty years, in fact, counting in every chance cursory +acquaintanceship, we may well say that we have been intimate with two or +three hundred women. + +"Well, then, my friend, among this number can you be sure that you have +not had children by at least one of them, and that you have not in the +streets, or in the bagnio, some blackguard of a son who steals from and +murders decent people, i.e., ourselves; or else a daughter in some +disreputable place, or, if she has the good fortune to be deserted by her +mother, as cook in some family? + +"Consider, also, that almost all those whom we call 'prostitutes' have +one or two children of whose paternal parentage they are ignorant, +generated by chance at the price of ten or twenty francs. In every +business there is profit and loss. These wildings constitute the 'loss' +in their profession. Who generated them? You--I--we all did, the men +called 'gentlemen'! They are the consequences of our jovial little +dinners, of our gay evenings, of those hours when our comfortable +physical being impels us to chance liaisons. + +"Thieves, marauders, all these wretches, in fact, are our children. +And that is better for us than if we were their children, for those +scoundrels generate also! + +"I have in my mind a very horrible story that I will relate to you. It +has caused me incessant remorse, and, further than that, a continual +doubt, a disquieting uncertainty, that, at times, torments me +frightfully. + +"When I was twenty-five I undertook a walking tour through Brittany with +one of my friends, now a member of the cabinet. + +"After walking steadily for fifteen or twenty days and visiting the +Cotes-du-Nord and part of Finistere we reached Douarnenez. From there we +went without halting to the wild promontory of Raz by the bay of Les +Trepaases, and passed the night in a village whose name ends in 'of.' +The next morning a strange lassitude kept my friend in bed; I say bed +from habit, for our couch consisted simply of two bundles of straw. + +"It would never do to be ill in this place. So I made him get up, and we +reached Andierne about four or five o'clock in the evening. + +"The following day he felt a little better, and we set out again. But on +the road he was seized with intolerable pain, and we could scarcely get +as far as Pont Labbe. + +"Here, at least, there was an inn. My friend went to bed, and the +doctor, who had been sent for from Quimper, announced that he had a high +fever, without being able to determine its nature. + +"Do you know Pont Labbe? No? Well, then, it is the most Breton of all +this Breton Brittany, which extends from the promontory of Raz to the +Morbihan, of this land which contains the essence of the Breton manners, +legends and customs. Even to-day this corner of the country has scarcely +changed. I say 'even to-day,' for I now go there every year, alas! + +"An old chateau laves the walls of its towers in a great melancholy pond, +melancholy and frequented by flights of wild birds. It has an outlet in +a river on which boats can navigate as far as the town. In the narrow +streets with their old-time houses the men wear big hats, embroidered +waistcoats and four coats, one on top of the other; the inside one, as +large as your hand, barely covering the shoulder-blades, and the outside +one coming to just above the seat of the trousers. + +"The girls, tall, handsome and fresh have their bosoms crushed in a cloth +bodice which makes an armor, compresses them, not allowing one even to +guess at their robust and tortured neck. They also wear a strange +headdress. On their temples two bands embroidered in colors frame their +face, inclosing the hair, which falls in a shower at the back of their +heads, and is then turned up and gathered on top of the head under a +singular cap, often woven with gold or silver thread. + +"The servant at our inn was eighteen at most, with very blue eyes, a pale +blue with two tiny black pupils, short teeth close together, which she +showed continually when she laughed, and which seemed strong enough to +grind granite. + +"She did not know a word of French, speaking only Breton, as did most of +her companions. + +"As my friend did not improve much, and although he had no definite +malady, the doctor forbade him to continue his journey yet, ordering +complete rest. I spent my days with him, and the little maid would come +in incessantly, bringing either my dinner or some herb tea. + +"I teased her a little, which seemed to amuse her, but we did not chat, +of course, as we could not understand each other. + +"But one night, after I had stayed quite late with my friend and was +going back to my room, I passed the girl, who was going to her room. +It was just opposite my open door, and, without reflection, and more for +fun than anything else, I abruptly seized her round the waist, and before +she recovered from her astonishment I had thrown her down and locked her +in my room. She looked at me, amazed, excited, terrified, not daring to +cry out for fear of a scandal and of being probably driven out, first by +her employers and then, perhaps, by her father. + +"I did it as a joke at first. She defended herself bravely, and at the +first chance she ran to the door, drew back the bolt and fled. + +"I scarcely saw her for several days. She would not let me come near +her. But when my friend was cured and we were to get out on our travels +again I saw her coming into my room about midnight the night before our +departure, just after I had retired. + +"She threw herself into my arms and embraced me passionately, giving me +all the assurances of tenderness and despair that a woman can give when +she does not know a word of our language. + +"A week later I had forgotten this adventure, so common and frequent when +one is travelling, the inn servants being generally destined to amuse +travellers in this way. + +"I was thirty before I thought of it again, or returned to Pont Labbe. + +"But in 1876 I revisited it by chance during a trip into Brittany, which +I made in order to look up some data for a book and to become permeated +with the atmosphere of the different places. + +"Nothing seemed changed. The chateau still laved its gray wall in the +pond outside the little town; the inn was the same, though it had been +repaired, renovated and looked more modern. As I entered it I was +received by two young Breton girls of eighteen, fresh and pretty, bound +up in their tight cloth bodices, with their silver caps and wide +embroidered bands on their ears. + +"It was about six o'clock in the evening. I sat down to dinner, and as +the host was assiduous in waiting on me himself, fate, no doubt, impelled +me to say: + +"'Did you know the former proprietors of this house? I spent about ten +days here thirty years ago. I am talking old times.' + +"'Those were my parents, monsieur,' he replied. + +"Then I told him why we had stayed over at that time, how my comrade had +been delayed by illness. He did not let me finish. + +"'Oh, I recollect perfectly. I was about fifteen or sixteen. You slept +in the room at the end and your friend in the one I have taken for +myself, overlooking the street.' + +"It was only then that the recollection of the little maid came vividly +to my mind. I asked: 'Do you remember a pretty little servant who was +then in your father's employ, and who had, if my memory does not deceive +me, pretty eyes and freshlooking teeth?' + +"'Yes, monsieur; she died in childbirth some time after.' + +"And, pointing to the courtyard where a thin, lame man was stirring up +the manure, he added: + +"'That is her son.' + +"I began to laugh: + +"'He is not handsome and does not look much like his mother. No doubt he +looks like his father.' + +"'That is very possible,' replied the innkeeper; 'but we never knew whose +child it was. She died without telling any one, and no one here knew of +her having a beau. Every one was hugely astonished when they heard she +was enceinte, and no one would believe it.' + +"A sort of unpleasant chill came over me, one of those painful surface +wounds that affect us like the shadow of an impending sorrow. And I +looked at the man in the yard. He had just drawn water for the horses +and was carrying two buckets, limping as he walked, with a painful effort +of his shorter leg. His clothes were ragged, he was hideously dirty, +with long yellow hair, so tangled that it looked like strands of rope +falling down at either side of his face. + +"'He is not worth much,' continued the innkeeper; 'we have kept him for +charity's sake. Perhaps he would have turned out better if he had been +brought up like other folks. But what could one do, monsieur? No +father, no mother, no money! My parents took pity on him, but he was not +their child, you understand.' + +"I said nothing. + +"I slept in my old room, and all night long I thought of this frightful +stableman, saying to myself: 'Supposing it is my own son? Could I have +caused that girl's death and procreated this being? It was quite +possible!' + +"I resolved to speak to this man and to find out the exact date of his +birth. A variation of two months would set my doubts at rest. + +"I sent for him the next day. But he could not speak French. He looked +as if he could not understand anything, being absolutely ignorant of his +age, which I had inquired of him through one of the maids. He stood +before me like an idiot, twirling his hat in 'his knotted, disgusting +hands, laughing stupidly, with something of his mother's laugh in the +corners of his mouth and of his eyes. + +"The landlord, appearing on the scene, went to look for the birth +certificate of this wretched being. He was born eight months and twenty- +six days after my stay at Pont Labbe, for I recollect perfectly that we +reached Lorient on the fifteenth of August. The certificate contained +this description: 'Father unknown.' The mother called herself Jeanne +Kerradec. + +"Then my heart began to beat rapidly. I could not utter a word, for I +felt as if I were choking. I looked at this animal whose long yellow +hair reminded me of a straw heap, and the beggar, embarrassed by my gaze, +stopped laughing, turned his head aside, and wanted to get away. + +"All day long I wandered beside the little river, giving way to painful +reflections. But what was the use of reflection? I could be sure of +nothing. For hours and hours I weighed all the pros and cons in favor of +or against the probability of my being the father, growing nervous over +inexplicable suppositions, only to return incessantly to the same +horrible uncertainty, then to the still more atrocious conviction that +this man was my son. + +"I could eat no dinner, and went to my room. + +"I lay awake for a long time, and when I finally fell asleep I was haunted +by horrible visions. I saw this laborer laughing in my face and calling +me 'papa.' Then he changed into a dog and bit the calves of my legs, and +no matter how fast I ran he still followed me, and instead of barking, +talked and reviled me. Then he appeared before my colleagues at the +Academy, who had assembled to decide whether I was really his father; and +one of them cried out: 'There can be no doubt about it! See how he +resembles him.' And, indeed, I could see that this monster looked like +me. And I awoke with this idea fixed in my mind and with an insane +desire to see the man again and assure myself whether or not we had +similar features. + +"I joined him as he was going to mass (it was Sunday) and I gave him five +francs as I gazed at him anxiously. He began to laugh in an idiotic +manner, took the money, and then, embarrassed afresh at my gaze, he ran +off, after stammering an almost inarticulate word that, no doubt, meant +'thank you.' + +"My day passed in the same distress of mind as on the previous night. +I sent for the landlord, and, with the greatest caution, skill and tact, +I told him that I was interested in this poor creature, so abandoned by +every one and deprived of everything, and I wished to do something for +him. + +"But the man replied: 'Oh, do not think of it, monsieur; he is of no +account; you will only cause yourself annoyance. I employ him to clean +out the stable, and that is all he can do. I give him his board and let +him sleep with the horses. He needs nothing more. If you have an old +pair of trousers, you might give them to him, but they will be in rags in +a week.' + +"I did not insist, intending to think it over. + +"The poor wretch came home that evening frightfully drunk, came near +setting fire to the house, killed a horse by hitting it with a pickaxe, +and ended up by lying down to sleep in the mud in the midst of the +pouring rain, thanks to my donation. + +"They begged me next day not to give him any more money. Brandy drove +him crazy, and as soon as he had two sous in his pocket he would spend +it in drink. The landlord added: 'Giving him money is like trying to +kill him.' The man had never, never in his life had more than a few +centimes, thrown to him by travellers, and he knew of no destination for +this metal but the wine shop. + +"I spent several hours in my room with an open book before me which I +pretended to read, but in reality looking at this animal, my son! my son! +trying to discover if he looked anything like me. After careful scrutiny +I seemed to recognize a similarity in the lines of the forehead and the +root of the nose, and I was soon convinced that there was a resemblance, +concealed by the difference in garb and the man's hideous head of hair. + +"I could not stay here any longer without arousing suspicion, and I went +away, my heart crushed, leaving with the innkeeper some money to soften +the existence of his servant. + +"For six years now I have lived with this idea in my mind, this horrible +uncertainty, this abominable suspicion. And each year an irresistible +force takes me back to Pont Labbe. Every year I condemn myself to the +torture of seeing this animal raking the manure, imagining that he +resembles me, and endeavoring, always vainly, to render him some +assistance. And each year I return more uncertain, more tormented, more +worried. + +"I tried to have him taught, but he is a hopeless idiot. I tried to make +his life less hard. He is an irreclaimable drunkard, and spends in drink +all the money one gives him, and knows enough to sell his new clothes in +order to get brandy. + +"I tried to awaken his master's sympathy, so that he should look after +him, offering to pay him for doing so. The innkeeper, finally surprised, +said, very wisely: 'All that you do for him, monsieur, will only help to +destroy him. He must be kept like a prisoner. As soon as he has any +spare time, or any comfort, he becomes wicked. If you wish to do good, +there is no lack of abandoned children, but select one who will +appreciate your attention.' + +"What could I say? + +"If I allowed the slightest suspicion of the doubts that tortured me to +escape, this idiot would assuredly become cunning, in order to blackmail +me, to compromise me and ruin me. He would call out 'papa,' as in my +dream. + +"And I said to myself that I had killed the mother and lost this +atrophied creature, this larva of the stable, born and raised amid the +manure, this man who, if brought up like others, would have been like +others. + +"And you cannot imagine what a strange, embarrassed and intolerable +feeling comes over me when he stands before me and I reflect that he came +from myself, that he belongs to me through the intimate bond that links +father and son, that, thanks to the terrible law of heredity, he is my +own self in a thousand ways, in his blood and his flesh, and that he has +even the same germs of disease, the same leaven of emotions. + +"I have an incessant restless, distressing longing to see him, and the +sight of him causes me intense suffering, as I look down from my window +and watch him for hours removing and carting the horse manure, saying to +myself: 'That is my son.' + +"And I sometimes feel an irresistible longing to embrace him. I have +never even touched his dirty hand." + +The academician was silent. His companion, a tactful man, murmured: +"Yes, indeed, we ought to take a closer interest in children who have no +father." + +A gust of wind passing through the tree shook its yellow clusters, +enveloping in a fragrant and delicate mist the two old men, who inhaled +in the fragrance with deep breaths. + +The senator added: "It is good to be twenty-five and even to have +children like that." + + + + + + +THAT PIG OF A MORIN + +"Here, my friend," I said to Labarbe, "you have just repeated those five +words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I never hear Morin's name +mentioned without his being called a pig?" + +Labarbe, who is a deputy, looked at me with his owl-like eyes and said: +"Do you mean to say that you do not know Morin's story and you come from +La Rochelle?" I was obliged to declare that I did not know Morin's story, +so Labarbe rubbed his hands and began his recital. + +"You knew Morin, did you not, and you remember his large linen-draper's +shop on the Quai de la Rochelle?" + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"Well, then. You must know that in 1862 or '63 Morin went to spend a +fortnight in Paris for pleasure; or for his pleasures, but under the +pretext of renewing his stock, and you also know what a fortnight in +Paris means to a country shopkeeper; it fires his blood. The theatre +every evening, women's dresses rustling up against you and continual +excitement; one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in +tights, actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all +nearly within reach of one's hands, without daring, or being able, to +touch them, and one scarcely tastes food. When one leaves the city one's +heart is still all in a flutter and one's mind still exhilarated by a +sort of longing for kisses which tickles one's lips. + +"Morin was in that condition when he took his ticket for La Rochelle by +the eight-forty night express. As he was walking up and down the +waiting-room at the station he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady +who was kissing an old one. She had her veil up, and Morin murmured with +delight: 'By Jove what a pretty woman!' + +"When she had said 'good-by' to the old lady she went into the waiting- +room, and Morin followed her; then she went on the platform and Morin +still followed her; then she got into an empty carriage, and he again +followed her. There were very few travellers on the express. The engine +whistled and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured her +with his eyes. She appeared to be about nineteen or twenty and was fair, +tall, with a bold look. She wrapped a railway rug round her and +stretched herself on the seat to sleep. + +"Morin asked himself: 'I wonder who she is?' And a thousand conjectures, +a thousand projects went through his head. He said to himself: 'So many +adventures are told as happening on railway journeys that this may be one +that is going to present itself to me. Who knows? A piece of good luck +like that happens very suddenly, and perhaps I need only be a little +venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: "Audacity, more audacity and +always audacity"? If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does +not matter. But then I have no audacity, and that is the difficulty. +Oh! If one only knew, if one could only read people's minds! I will bet +that every day one passes by magnificent opportunities without knowing +it, though a gesture would be enough to let me know her mind.' + +"Then he imagined to himself combinations which conducted him to triumph. +He pictured some chivalrous deed or merely some slight service which he +rendered her, a lively, gallant conversation which ended in a +declaration. + +"But he could find no opening, had no pretext, and he waited for some +fortunate circumstance, with his heart beating and his mind topsy-turvy. +The night passed and the pretty girl still slept, while Morin was +meditating his own fall. The day broke and soon the first ray of +sunlight appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face +of the sleeping girl and woke her. She sat up, looked at the country, +then at Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an +engaging and bright look, and Morin trembled. Certainly that smile was +intended for him; it was discreet invitation, the signal which he was +waiting for. That smile meant to say: 'How stupid, what a ninny, what a +dolt, what a donkey you are, to have sat there on your seat like a post +all night! + +"'Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the +whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great +simpleton!' + +"She was still smiling as she looked at him; she even began to laugh; and +he lost his head trying to find something suitable to say, no matter +what. But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a +coward's courage, he said to himself: + +"'So much the worse, I will risk everything,' and suddenly, without the +slightest warning, he went toward her, his arms extended, his lips +protruding, and, seizing her in his arms, he kissed her. + +"She sprang up immediately with a bound, crying out: 'Help! help!' and +screaming with terror; and then she opened the carriage door and waved +her arm out, mad with terror and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was +almost distracted and feeling sure that she would throw herself out, held +her by the skirt and stammered: 'Oh, madame! oh, madame!' + +"The train slackened speed and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the +young woman's frantic signals. She threw herself into their arms, +stammering: 'That man wanted--wanted--to--to--' And then she fainted. + +"They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin. +When the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her +consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it +up. The poor linen draper did not reach home till night, with a +prosecution hanging over him for an outrage to morals in a public place." + + +II + +"At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet +Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure. +he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not hide my +opinion from him, but said to him: 'You are no better than a pig. No +decent man behaves like that.' + +"He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade +ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends +scandalized and taking no notice of him. In the end he excited my pity, +and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little +man, to give us his advice. + +"He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine, +and so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate. He told me +that the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle +Henriette Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in +Paris and spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very +respectable tradespeople in Mauze. What made Morin's case all the more +serious was that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public +official had consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were +withdrawn, so we must try and get him to do this. + +"I went back to Morin's and found him in bed, ill with excitement and +distress. His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him +continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me: 'So you +have come to see that pig of a Morin. Well, there he is, the darling!' +And she planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips. +I told him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl's +uncle and aunt. It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the +poor devil never ceased repeating: 'I assure you I did not even kiss her; +no, not even that. I will take my oath to it!' + +"I replied: 'It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.' And I took a +thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I +did not care to venture to her uncle's house alone, I begged Rivet to go +with me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for +he had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon. So two hours +later we rang at the door of a pretty country house. An attractive girl +came and opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and +I said to Rivet in a low voice: 'Confound it! I begin to understand +Morin!' + +"The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent +political coreligionist of ours. He received us with open arms and +congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two +editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me: 'I think we shall be +able to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.' + +"The niece had left the room and I introduced the delicate subject. +I waved the spectre of scandal before his eyes; I accentuated the +inevitable depreciation which the young lady would suffer if such an +affair became known, for nobody would believe in a simple kiss, and the +good man seemed undecided, but he could not make up his mind about +anything without his wife, who would not be in until late that evening. +But suddenly he uttered an exclamation of triumph: 'Look here, I have an +excellent idea; I will keep you here to dine and sleep, and when my wife +comes home I hope we shall be able to arrange matters: + +"Rivet resisted at first, but the wish to extricate that pig of a Morin +decided him, and we accepted the invitation, and the uncle got up +radiant, called his niece and proposed that we should take a stroll in +his grounds, saying: 'We will leave serious matters until the morning.' +Rivet and he began to talk politics, while I soon found myself lagging a +little behind with 'the girl who was really charming--charming--and with +the greatest precaution I began to speak to her about her adventure and +try to make her my ally. She did not, however, appear the least +confused, and listened to me like a person who was enjoying the whole +thing very much. + +"I said to her: 'Just think, mademoiselle, how unpleasant it will be for +you. You will have to appear in court, to encounter malicious looks, to +speak before everybody and to recount that unfortunate occurrence in the +railway carriage in public. Do you not think, between ourselves, that it +would have been much better for you to have put that dirty scoundrel back +in his place without calling for assistance, and merely to change your +carriage?' She began to laugh and replied: 'What you say is quite true, +but what could I do? I was frightened, and when one is frightened one +does not stop to reason with one's self. As soon as I realized the +situation I was very sorry, that I had called out, but then it was too +late. You must also remember that the idiot threw himself upon me like a +madman, without saying a word and looking like a lunatic. I did not even +know what he wanted of me.' + +"She looked me full in the face without being nervous or intimidated and +I said to myself: 'She is a queer sort of girl, that: I can quite see how +that pig Morin came to make a mistake,' and I went on jokingly: 'Come, +mademoiselle, confess that he was excusable, for, after all, a man cannot +find himself opposite such a pretty girl as you are without feeling a +natural desire to kiss her.' + +"She laughed more than ever and showed her teeth and said: 'Between the +desire and the act, monsieur, there is room for respect.' It was an odd +expression to use, although it was not very clear, and I asked abruptly: +'Well, now, suppose I were to kiss you, what would you do?' She stopped +to look at me from head to foot and then said calmly: 'Oh, you? That is +quite another matter.' + +"I knew perfectly well, by Jove, that it was not the same thing at all, +as everybody in the neighborhood called me 'Handsome Labarbe'--I was +thirty years old in those days--but I asked her: 'And why, pray?' She +shrugged her shoulders and replied: 'Well! because you are not so stupid +as he is.' And then she added, looking at me slyly: 'Nor so ugly, +either: And before she could make a movement to avoid me I had implanted +a hearty kiss on her cheek. She sprang aside, but it was too late, and +then she said: 'Well, you are not very bashful, either! But don't do +that sort of thing again.' + +"I put on a humble look and said in a low voice: 'Oh, mademoiselle! as +for me, if I long for one thing more than another it is to be summoned +before a magistrate for the same reason as Morin.' + +"'Why?' she asked. And, looking steadily at her, I replied: 'Because you +are one of the most beautiful creatures living; because it would be an +honor and a glory for me to have wished to offer you violence, and +because people would have said, after seeing you: "Well, Labarbe has +richly deserved what he has got, but he is a lucky fellow, all the +same.'" + +"She began to laugh heartily again and said: 'How funny you are!' And +she had not finished the word 'funny' before I had her in my arms and was +kissing her ardently wherever I could find a place, on her forehead, on +her eyes, on her lips occasionally, on her cheeks, all over her head, +some part of which she was obliged to leave exposed, in spite of herself, +to defend the others; but at last she managed to release herself, +blushing and angry. 'You are very unmannerly, monsieur,' she said, 'and +I am sorry I listened to you.' + +"I took her hand in some confusion and stammered out: 'I beg your pardon. +I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I have offended you; I have acted like +a brute! Do not be angry with me for what I have done. If you knew--' +I vainly sought for some excuse, and in a few moments she said: 'There is +nothing for me to know, monsieur.' But I had found something to say, and +I cried: 'Mademoiselle, I love you!' + +"She was really surprised and raised her eyes to look at me, and I went +on: 'Yes, mademoiselle, and pray listen to me. I do not know Morin, and +I do not care anything about him. It does not matter to me the least if +he is committed for trial and locked up meanwhile. I saw you here last +year, and I was so taken with you that the thought of you has never left +me since, and it does not matter to me whether you believe me or not. +I thought you adorable, and the remembrance of you took such a hold on me +that I longed to see you again, and so I made use of that fool Morin as a +pretext, and here I am. Circumstances have made me exceed the due limits +of respect, and I can only beg you to pardon me.' + +"She looked at me to see if I was in earnest and was ready to smile +again. Then she murmured: 'You humbug!' But I raised my hand and said +in a sincere voice (and I really believe that I was sincere): 'I swear to +you that I am speaking the truth,' and she replied quite simply: 'Don't +talk nonsense!' + +"We were alone, quite alone, as Rivet and her uncle had disappeared down +a sidewalk, and I made her a real declaration of love, while I squeezed +and kissed her hands, and she listened to it as to something new and +agreeable, without exactly knowing how much of it she was to believe, +while in the end I felt agitated, and at last really myself believed what +I said. I was pale, anxious and trembling, and I gently put my arm round +her waist and spoke to her softly, whispering into the little curls over +her ears. She seemed in a trance, so absorbed in thought was she. + +"Then her hand touched mine, and she pressed it, and I gently squeezed +her waist with a trembling, and gradually firmer, grasp. She did not +move now, and I touched her cheek with my lips, and suddenly without +seeking them my lips met hers. It was a long, long kiss, and it would +have lasted longer still if I had not heard a hm! hm! just behind me, at +which she made her escape through the bushes, and turning round I saw +Rivet coming toward me, and, standing in the middle of the path, he said +without even smiling: 'So that is the way you settle the affair of that +pig of a Morin.' And I replied conceitedly: 'One does what one can, my +dear fellow. But what about the uncle? How have you got on with him? +I will answer for the niece.' 'I have not been so fortunate with him,' +he replied. + +"Whereupon I took his arm and we went indoors." + + +III + +"Dinner made me lose my head altogether. I sat beside her, and my hand +continually met hers under the tablecloth, my foot touched hers and our +glances met. + +"After dinner we took a walk by moonlight, and I whispered all the tender +things I could think of to her. I held her close to me, kissed her every +moment, while her uncle and Rivet were arguing as they walked in front of +us. They went in, and soon a messenger brought a telegram from her aunt, +saying that she would not return until the next morning at seven o'clock +by the first train. + +"'Very well, Henriette,' her uncle said, 'go and show the gentlemen their +rooms.' She showed Rivet his first, and he whispered to me: 'There was no +danger of her taking us into yours first.' Then she took me to my room, +and as soon as she was alone with me I took her in my arms again and +tried to arouse her emotion, but when she saw the danger she escaped out +of the room, and I retired very much put out and excited and feeling +rather foolish, for I knew that I should not sleep much, and I was +wondering how I could have committed such a mistake, when there was a +gentle knock at my door, and on my asking who was there a low voice +replied: 'I' + +"I dressed myself quickly and opened the door, and she came in. +'I forgot to ask you what you take in the morning,' she said; 'chocolate, +tea or coffee?' I put my arms round her impetuously and said, devouring +her with kisses: 'I will take--I will take--' + +"But she freed herself from my arms, blew out my candle and disappeared +and left me alone in the dark, furious, trying to find some matches, and +not able to do so. At last I got some and I went into the passage, +feeling half mad, with my candlestick in my hand. + +"What was I about to do? I did not stop to reason, I only wanted to find +her, and I would. I went a few steps without reflecting, but then I +suddenly thought: 'Suppose I should walk into the uncle's room what +should I say?' And I stood still, with my head a void and my heart +beating. But in a few moments I thought of an answer: 'Of course, I +shall say that I was looking for Rivet's room to speak to him about an +important matter,' and I began to inspect all the doors, trying to find +hers, and at last I took hold of a handle at a venture, turned it and +went in. There was Henriette, sitting on her bed and looking at me in +tears. So I gently turned the key, and going up to her on tiptoe I said: +'I forgot to ask you for something to read, mademoiselle.' + +"I was stealthily returning to my room when a rough hand seized me and a +voice--it was Rivet's--whispered in my ear: 'So you have not yet quite +settled that affair of Morin's?' + +"At seven o'clock the next morning Henriette herself brought me a cup of +chocolate. I never have drunk anything like it, soft, velvety, perfumed, +delicious. I could hardly take away my lips from the cup, and she had +hardly left the room when Rivet came in. He seemed nervous and +irritable, like a man who had not slept, and he said to me crossly: + +"'If you go on like this you will end by spoiling the affair of that pig +of a Morin!' + +"At eight o'clock the aunt arrived. Our discussion was very short, for +they withdrew their complaint, and I left five hundred francs for the +poor of the town. They wanted to keep us for the day, and they arranged +an excursion to go and see some ruins. Henriette made signs to me to +stay, behind her parents' back, and I accepted, but Rivet was determined +to go, and though I took him aside and begged and prayed him to do this +for me, he appeared quite exasperated and kept saying to me: 'I have had +enough of that pig of a Morin's affair, do you hear?' + +"Of course I was obliged to leave also, and it was one of the hardest +moments of my life. I could have gone on arranging that business as long +as I lived, and when we were in the railway carriage, after shaking hands +with her in silence, I said to Rivet: 'You are a mere brute!' And he +replied: 'My dear fellow, you were beginning to annoy me confoundedly.' + +"On getting to the Fanal office, I saw a crowd waiting for us, and as +soon as they saw us they all exclaimed: 'Well, have you settled the +affair of that pig of a Morin?' All La Rochelle was excited about it, +and Rivet, who had got over his ill-humor on the journey, had great +difficulty in keeping himself from laughing as he said: 'Yes, we have +managed it, thanks to Labarbe: And we went to Morin's. + +"He was sitting in an easy-chair with mustard plasters on his legs and +cold bandages on his head, nearly dead with misery. He was coughing with +the short cough of a dying man, without any one knowing how he had caught +it, and his wife looked at him like a tigress ready to eat him, and as +soon as he saw us he trembled so violently as to make his hands and knees +shake, so I said to him immediately: 'It is all settled, you dirty scamp, +but don't do such a thing again.' + +"He got up, choking, took my hands and kissed them as if they had +belonged to a prince, cried, nearly fainted, embraced Rivet and even +kissed Madame Morin, who gave him such a push as to send him staggering +back into his chair; but he never got over the blow; his mind had been +too much upset. In all the country round, moreover, he was called +nothing but 'that pig of a Morin,' and that epithet went through him like +a sword-thrust every time he heard it. When a street boy called after +him 'Pig!' he turned his head instinctively. His friends also +overwhelmed him with horrible jokes and used to ask him, whenever they +were eating ham, 'Is it a bit of yourself?' He died two years later. + +"As for myself, when I was a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies in +1875, I called on the new notary at Fousserre, Monsieur Belloncle, to +solicit his vote, and a tall, handsome and evidently wealthy lady +received me. 'You do not know me again?' she said. And I stammered out: +'Why--no--madame.' 'Henriette Bonnel.' 'Ah!' And I felt myself turning +pale, while she seemed perfectly at her ease and looked at me with a +smile. + +"As soon as she had left me alone with her husband he took both my hands, +and, squeezing them as if he meant to crush them, he said: 'I have been +intending to go and see you for a long time, my dear sir, for my wife has +very often talked to me about you. I know--yes, I know under what +painful circumstances you made her acquaintance, and I know also how +perfectly you behaved, how full of delicacy, tact and devotion you showed +yourself in the affair--' He hesitated and then said in a lower tone, as +if he had been saying something low and coarse, 'in the affair of that +pig of a Morin.'" + + + + + + +SAINT ANTHONY + +They called him Saint Anthony, because his name was Anthony, and also, +perhaps, because he was a good fellow, jovial, a lover of practical +jokes, a tremendous eater and a heavy drinker and a gay fellow, although +he was sixty years old. + +He was a big peasant of the district of Caux, with a red face, large +chest and stomach, and perched on two legs that seemed too slight for the +bulk of his body. + +He was a widower and lived alone with his two men servants and a maid on +his farm, which he conducted with shrewd economy. He was careful of his +own interests, understood business and the raising of cattle, and +farming. His two sons and his three daughters, who had married well, +were living in the neighborhood and came to dine with their father once a +month. His vigor of body was famous in all the countryside. "He is as +strong as Saint Anthony," had become a kind of proverb. + +At the time of the Prussian invasion Saint Anthony, at the wine shop, +promised to eat an army, for he was a braggart, like a true Norman, a bit +of a, coward and a blusterer. He banged his fist on the wooden table, +making the cups and the brandy glasses dance, and cried with the assumed +wrath of a good fellow, with a flushed face and a sly look in his eye: +"I shall have to eat some of them, nom de Dieu!" He reckoned that the +Prussians would not come as far as Tanneville, but when he heard they +were at Rautot he never went out of the house, and constantly watched the +road from the little window of his kitchen, expecting at any moment to +see the bayonets go by. + +One morning as he was eating his luncheon with the servants the door +opened and the mayor of the commune, Maitre Chicot, appeared, followed by +a soldier wearing a black copper-pointed helmet. Saint Anthony bounded +to his feet and his servants all looked at him, expecting to see him +slash the Prussian. But he merely shook hands with the mayor, who said: + +"Here is one for you, Saint Anthony. They came last night. Don't do +anything foolish, above all things, for they talked of shooting and +burning everything if there is the slightest unpleasantness, I have given +you warning. Give him something to eat; he looks like a good fellow. +Good-day. I am going to call on the rest. There are enough for all." +And he went out. + +Father Anthony, who had turned pale, looked at the Prussian. He was a +big, young fellow with plump, white skin, blue eyes, fair hair, unshaven +to his cheek bones, who looked stupid, timid and good. The shrewd Norman +read him at once, and, reassured, he made him a sign to sit down. Then +he said: "Will you take some soup?" + +The stranger did not understand. Anthony then became bolder, and pushing +a plateful of soup right under his nose, he said: "Here, swallow that, +big pig!" + +The soldier answered "Ya," and began to eat greedily, while the farmer, +triumphant, feeling he had regained his reputation, winked his eye at the +servants, who were making strange grimaces, what with their terror and +their desire to laugh. + +When the Prussian had devoured his soup, Saint Anthony gave him another +plateful, which disappeared in like manner; but he flinched at the third +which the farmer tried to insist on his eating, saying: "Come, put that +into your stomach; 'twill fatten you or it is your own fault, eh, pig!" + +The soldier, understanding only that they wanted to make him eat all his +soup, laughed in a contented manner, making a sign to show that he could +not hold any more. + +Then Saint Anthony, become quite familiar, tapped him on the stomach, +saying: "My, there is plenty in my pig's belly!" But suddenly he began +to writhe with laughter, unable to speak. An idea had struck him which +made him choke with mirth. "That's it, that's it, Saint Anthony and his +pig. There's my pig!" And the three servants burst out laughing in +their turn. + +The old fellow was so pleased that he had the brandy brought in, good +stuff, 'fil en dix', and treated every one. They clinked glasses with +the Prussian, who clacked his tongue by way of flattery to show that he +enjoyed it. And Saint Anthony exclaimed in his face: "Eh, is not that +superfine? You don't get anything like that in your home, pig!" + +From that time Father Anthony never went out without his Prussian. He +had got what he wanted. This was his vengeance, the vengeance of an old +rogue. And the whole countryside, which was in terror, laughed to split +its sides at Saint Anthony's joke. Truly, there was no one like him when +it came to humor. No one but he would have thought of a thing like that. +He was a born joker! + +He went to see his neighbors every day, arm in arm with his German, whom +he introduced in a jovial manner, tapping him on the shoulder: "See, here +is my pig; look and see if he is not growing fat, the animal!" + +And the peasants would beam with smiles. "He is so comical, that +reckless fellow, Antoine!" + +"I will sell him to you, Cesaire, for three pistoles" (thirty francs). + +"I will take him, Antoine, and I invite you to eat some black pudding." + +"What I want is his feet." + +"Feel his belly; you will see that it is all fat." + +And they all winked at each other, but dared not laugh too loud, for fear +the Prussian might finally suspect they were laughing at him. Anthony, +alone growing bolder every day, pinched his thighs, exclaiming, "Nothing +but fat"; tapped him on the back, shouting, "That is all bacon"; lifted +him up in his arms as an old Colossus that could have lifted an anvil, +declaring, "He weighs six hundred and no waste." + +He had got into the habit of making people offer his "pig" something to +eat wherever they went together. This was the chief pleasure, the great +diversion every day. "Give him whatever you please, he will swallow +everything." And they offered the man bread and butter, potatoes, cold +meat, chitterlings, which caused the remark, "Some of your own, and +choice ones." + +The soldier, stupid and gentle, ate from politeness, charmed at these +attentions, making himself ill rather than refuse, and he was actually +growing fat and his uniform becoming tight for him. This delighted Saint +Anthony, who said: "You know, my pig, that we shall have to have another +cage made for you." + +They had, however, become the best friends in the world, and when the old +fellow went to attend to his business in the neighborhood the Prussian +accompanied him for the simple pleasure of being with him. + +The weather was severe; it was freezing hard. The terrible winter of +1870 seemed to bring all the scourges on France at one time. + +Father Antoine, who made provision beforehand, and took advantage of +every opportunity, foreseeing that manure would be scarce for the spring +farming, bought from a neighbor who happened to be in need of money all +that he had, and it was agreed that he should go every evening with his +cart to get a load. + +So every day at twilight he set out for the farm of Haules, half a league +distant, always accompanied by his "pig." And each time it was a +festival, feeding the animal. All the neighbors ran over there as they +would go to high mass on Sunday. + +But the soldier began to suspect something, be mistrustful, and when they +laughed too loud he would roll his eyes uneasily, and sometimes they +lighted up with anger. + +One evening when he had eaten his fill he refused to swallow another +morsel, and attempted to rise to leave the table. But Saint Anthony +stopped him by a turn of the wrist and, placing his two powerful hands on +his shoulders, he sat him down again so roughly that the chair smashed +under him. + +A wild burst of laughter broke forth, and Anthony, beaming, picked up his +pig, acted as though he were dressing his wounds, and exclaimed: "Since +you will not eat, you shall drink, nom de Dieu!" And they went to the +wine shop to get some brandy. + +The soldier rolled his eyes, which had a wicked expression, but he drank, +nevertheless; he drank as long as they wanted him, and Saint Anthony held +his head to the great delight of his companions. + +The Norman, red as a tomato, his eyes ablaze, filled up the glasses and +clinked, saying: "Here's to you!". And the Prussian, without speaking a +word, poured down one after another glassfuls of cognac. + +It was a contest, a battle, a revenge! Who would drink the most, nom +d'un nom! They could neither of them stand any more when the liter was +emptied. But neither was conquered. They were tied, that was all. They +would have to begin again the next day. + +They went out staggering and started for home, walking beside the dung +cart which was drawn along slowly by two horses. + +Snow began to fall and the moonless night was sadly lighted by this dead +whiteness on the plain. The men began to feel the cold, and this +aggravated their intoxication. Saint Anthony, annoyed at not being the +victor, amused himself by shoving his companion so as to make him fall +over into the ditch. The other would dodge backwards, and each time he +did he uttered some German expression in an angry tone, which made the +peasant roar with laughter. Finally the Prussian lost his temper, and +just as Anthony was rolling towards him he responded with such a terrific +blow with his fist that the Colossus staggered. + +Then, excited by the brandy, the old man seized the pugilist round the +waist, shook him for a few moments as he would have done with a little +child, and pitched him at random to the other side of the road. Then, +satisfied with this piece of work, he crossed his arms and began to laugh +afresh. + +But the soldier picked himself up in a hurry, his head bare, his helmet +having rolled off, and drawing his sword he rushed over to Father +Anthony. + +When he saw him coming the peasant seized his whip by the top of the +handle, his big holly wood whip, straight, strong and supple as the sinew +of an ox. + +The Prussian approached, his head down, making a lunge with his sword, +sure of killing his adversary. But the old fellow, squarely hitting the +blade, the point of which would have pierced his stomach, turned it +aside, and with the butt end of the whip struck the soldier a sharp blow +on the temple and he fell to the ground. + +Then he, gazed aghast, stupefied with amazement, at the body, twitching +convulsively at first and then lying prone and motionless. He bent over +it, turned it on its back, and gazed at it for some time. The man's eyes +were closed, and blood trickled from a wound at the side of his forehead. +Although it was dark, Father Anthony could distinguish the bloodstain on +the white snow. + +He remained there, at his wit's end, while his cart continued slowly on +its way. + +What was he to do? He would be shot! They would burn his farm, ruin his +district! What should he do? What should he do? How could he hide the +body, conceal the fact of his death, deceive the Prussians? He heard +voices in the distance, amid the utter stillness of the snow. All at +once he roused himself, and picking up the helmet he placed it on his +victim's head. Then, seizing him round the body, he lifted him up in his +arms, and thus running with him, he overtook his team, and threw the body +on top of the manure. Once in his own house he would think up some plan. + +He walked slowly, racking his brain, but without result. He saw, he +felt, that he was lost. He entered his courtyard. A light was shining +in one of the attic windows; his maid was not asleep. He hastily backed +his wagon to the edge of the manure hollow. He thought that by +overturning the manure the body lying on top of it would fall into the +ditch and be buried beneath it, and he dumped the cart. + +As he had foreseen, the man was buried beneath the manure. Anthony +evened it down with his fork, which he stuck in the ground beside it. +He called his stableman, told him to put up the horses, and went to his +room. + +He went to bed, still thinking of what he had best do, but no ideas came +to him. His apprehension increased in the quiet of his room. They would +shoot him! He was bathed in perspiration from fear, his teeth chattered, +he rose shivering, not being able to stay in bed. + +He went downstairs to the kitchen, took the bottle of brandy from the +sideboard and carried it upstairs. He drank two large glasses, one after +another, adding a fresh intoxication to the late one, without quieting +his mental anguish. He had done a pretty stroke of work, nom de Dieu, +idiot! + +He paced up and down, trying to think of some stratagem, some +explanations, some cunning trick, and from time to time he rinsed his +mouth with a swallow of "fil en dix" to give him courage. + +But no ideas came to him, not one. + +Towards midnight his watch dog, a kind of cross wolf called "Devorant," +began to howl frantically. Father Anthony shuddered to the marrow of his +bones, and each time the beast began his long and lugubrious wail the old +man's skin turned to goose flesh. + +He had sunk into a chair, his legs weak, stupefied, done up, waiting +anxiously for "Devorant" to set up another howl, and starting +convulsively from nervousness caused by terror. + +The clock downstairs struck five. The dog was still howling. The +peasant was almost insane. He rose to go and let the dog loose, so that +he should not hear him. He went downstairs, opened the hall door, and +stepped out into the darkness. The snow was still falling. The earth +was all white, the farm buildings standing out like black patches. He +approached the kennel. The dog was dragging at his chain. He unfastened +it. "Devorant" gave a bound, then stopped short, his hair bristling, his +legs rigid, his muzzle in the air, his nose pointed towards the manure +heap. + +Saint Anthony, trembling from head to foot, faltered: + +"What's the matter with you, you dirty hound?" and he walked a few steps +forward, gazing at the indistinct outlines, the sombre shadow of the +courtyard. + +Then he saw a form, the form of a man sitting on the manure heap! + +He gazed at it, paralyzed by fear, and breathing hard. But all at once +he saw, close by, the handle of the manure fork which was sticking in the +ground. He snatched it up and in one of those transports of fear that +will make the greatest coward brave he rushed forward to see what it was. + +It was he, his Prussian, come to life, covered with filth from his bed of +manure which had kept him warm. He had sat down mechanically, and +remained there in the snow which sprinkled down, all covered with dirt +and blood as he was, and still stupid from drinking, dazed by the blow +and exhausted from his wound. + +He perceived Anthony, and too sodden to understand anything, he made an +attempt to rise. But the moment the old man recognized him, he foamed +with rage like a wild animal. + +"Ah, pig! pig!" he sputtered. "You are not dead! You are going to +denounce me now--wait--wait!" + +And rushing on the German with all the strength of leis arms he flung the +raised fork like a lance and buried the four prongs full length in his +breast. + +The soldier fell over on his back, uttering a long death moan, while the +old peasant, drawing the fork out of his breast, plunged it over and over +again into his abdomen, his stomach, his throat, like a madman, piercing +the body from head to foot, as it still quivered, and the blood gushed +out in streams. + +Finally he stopped, exhausted by his arduous work, swallowing great +mouthfuls of air, calmed down at the completion of the murder. + +As the cocks were beginning to crow in the poultry yard and it was near +daybreak, he set to work to bury the man. + +He dug a hole in the manure till he reached the earth, dug down further, +working wildly, in a frenzy of strength with frantic motions of his arms +and body. + +When the pit was deep enough he rolled the corpse into it with the fork, +covered it with earth, which he stamped down for some time, and then put +back the manure, and he smiled as he saw the thick snow finishing his +work and covering up its traces with a white sheet. + +He then stuck the fork in the manure and went into the house. His +bottle, still half full of brandy stood on the table. He emptied it at a +draught, threw himself on his bed and slept heavily. + +He woke up sober, his mind calm and clear, capable of judgment and +thought. + +At the end of an hour he was going about the country making inquiries +everywhere for his soldier. He went to see the Prussian officer to find +out why they had taken away his man. + +As everyone knew what good friends they were, no one suspected him. He +even directed the research, declaring that the Prussian went to see the +girls every evening. + +An old retired gendarme who had an inn in the next village, and a pretty +daughter, was arrested and shot. + + + + + + + +LASTING LOVE + +It was the end of the dinner that opened the shooting season. The +Marquis de Bertrans with his guests sat around a brightly lighted table, +covered with fruit and flowers. The conversation drifted to love. +Immediately there arose an animated discussion, the same eternal +discussion as to whether it were possible to love more than once. +Examples were given of persons who had loved once; these were offset by +those who had loved violently many times. The men agreed that passion, +like sickness, may attack the same person several times, unless it +strikes to kill. This conclusion seemed quite incontestable. The women, +however, who based their opinion on poetry rather than on practical +observation, maintained that love, the great passion, may come only once +to mortals. It resembles lightning, they said, this love. A heart once +touched by it becomes forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that +no other strong sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The +marquis, who had indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief. + +"I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and +soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love, +to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they +had not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of +a second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another, +and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once +indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament." + +They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis +had said, a thing of temperament. + +"As for me," he said, "I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five +years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death." The +wife of the marquis clasped her hands. + +"That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What +bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering +affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so +adored!" + +The doctor smiled. + +"You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. +You even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the +woman, you also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to +the chateau." The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their +contempt with "Pouah!" for the loves of common people did not interest +them. The doctor continued: "Three months ago I was called to the +deathbed of the old chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She +wished to make us the executors of her will. In order that we might +understand her conduct, she told us the story of her life. It is most +singular and touching: Her father and mother were both chair-menders. +She had never lived in a house. As a little child she wandered about +with them, dirty, unkempt, hungry. They visited many towns, leaving +their horse, wagon and dog just outside the limits, where the child +played in the grass alone until her parents had repaired all the broken +chairs in the place. They seldom spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! +Chair-mender!' + +"When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by +the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a word of +affection. When she grew older, she fetched and carried the broken +chairs. Then it was she made friends with the children in the street, +but their parents always called them away and scolded them for speaking +to the barefooted child. Often the boys threw stones at her. Once a +kind woman gave her a few pennies. She saved them most carefully. +"One day--she was then eleven years old--as she was walking through a +country town she met, behind the cemetery, little Chouquet, weeping +bitterly, because one of his playmates had stolen two precious liards +(mills). The tears of the small bourgeois, one of those much-envied +mortals, who, she imagined, never knew trouble, completely upset her. +She approached him and, as soon as she learned the cause of his grief, +she put into his hands all her savings. He took them without hesitation +and dried his eyes. Wild with joy, she kissed him. He was busy counting +his money, and did not object. Seeing that she was not repulsed, she +threw her arms round him and gave him a hug--then she ran away. + +"What was going on in her poor little head? Was it because she had +sacrificed all her fortune that she became madly fond of this youngster, +or was it because she had given him the first tender kiss? The mystery +is alike for children and for those of riper years. For months she +dreamed of that corner near the cemetery and of the little chap. +She stole a sou here and, there from her parents on the chair money or +groceries she was sent to buy. When she returned to the spot near the +cemetery she had two francs in her pocket, but he was not there. Passing +his father's drug store, she caught sight of him behind the counter. +He was sitting between a large red globe and a blue one. She only loved +him the more, quite carried away at the sight of the brilliant-colored +globes. She cherished the recollection of it forever in her heart. +The following year she met him near the school. playing marbles. +She rushed up to him, threw her arms round him, and kissed him so +passionately that he screamed, in fear. To quiet him, she gave him all +her money. Three francs and twenty centimes! A real gold mine, at which +he gazed with staring eyes. + +"After this he allowed her to kiss him as much as she wished. During the +next four years she put into his hands all her savings, which he pocketed +conscientiously in exchange for kisses. At one time it was thirty sons, +at another two francs. Again, she only had twelve sous. She wept with +grief and shame, explaining brokenly that it had been a poor year. The +next time she brought five francs, in one whole piece, which made her +laugh with joy. She no longer thought of any one but the boy, and he +watched for her with impatience; sometimes he would run to meet her. +This made her heart thump with joy. Suddenly he disappeared. He had +gone to boarding school. She found this out by careful investigation. +Then she used great diplomacy to persuade her parents to change their +route and pass by this way again during vacation. After a year of +scheming she succeeded. She had not seen him for two years, and scarcely +recognized him, he was so changed, had grown taller, better looking and +was imposing in his uniform, with its brass buttons. He pretended not to +see her, and passed by without a glance. She wept for two days and from +that time loved and suffered unceasingly. + +"Every year he came home and she passed him, not daring to lift her eyes. +He never condescended to turn his head toward her. She loved him madly, +hopelessly. She said to me: + +"'He is the only man whom I have ever seen. I don't even know if another +exists.' Her parents died. She continued their work. + +"One day, on entering the village, where her heart always remained, she +saw Chouquet coming out of his pharmacy with a young lady leaning on his +arm. She was his wife. That night the chairmender threw herself into +the river. A drunkard passing the spot pulled her out and took her to +the drug store. Young Chouquet came down in his dressing gown to revive +her. Without seeming to know who she was he undressed her and rubbed +her; then he said to her, in a harsh voice: + +"'You are mad! People must not do stupid things like that.' His voice +brought her to life again. He had spoken to her! She was happy for a +long time. He refused remuneration for his trouble, although she +insisted. + +"All her life passed in this way. She worked, thinking always of him. +She began to buy medicines at his pharmacy; this gave her a chance to +talk to him and to see him closely. In this way, she was still able to +give him money. + +"As I said before, she died this spring. When she had closed her +pathetic story she entreated me to take her earnings to the man she +loved. She had worked only that she might leave him something to remind +him of her after her death. I gave the priest fifty francs for her +funeral expenses. The next morning I went to see the Chouquets. They +were finishing breakfast, sitting opposite each other, fat and red, +important and self-satisfied. They welcomed me and offered me some +coffee, which I accepted. Then I began my story in a trembling voice, +sure that they would be softened, even to tears. As soon as Chouquet +understood that he had been loved by 'that vagabond! that chair-mender! +that wanderer!' he swore with indignation as though his reputation had +been sullied, the respect of decent people lost, his personal honor, +something precious and dearer to him than life, gone. His exasperated +wife kept repeating: 'That beggar! That beggar!' + +"Seeming unable to find words suitable to the enormity, he stood up and +began striding about. He muttered: 'Can you understand anything so +horrible, doctor? Oh, if I had only known it while she was alive, I +should have had her thrown into prison. I promise you she would not have +escaped.' + +"I was dumfounded; I hardly knew what to think or say, but I had to +finish my mission. 'She commissioned me,' I said, 'to give you her +savings, which amount to three thousand five hundred francs. As what I +have just told you seems to be very disagreeable, perhaps you would +prefer to give this money to the poor.' + +"They looked at me, that man and woman,' speechless with amazement. +I took the few thousand francs from out of my pocket. Wretched-looking +money from every country. Pennies and gold pieces all mixed together. +Then I asked: + +"'What is your decision?' + +"Madame Chouquet spoke first. 'Well, since it is the dying woman's wish, +it seems to me impossible to refuse it.' + +"Her husband said, in a shamefaced manner: 'We could buy something for +our children with it.' + +"I answered dryly: 'As you wish.' + +"He replied: 'Well, give it to us anyhow, since she commissioned you to +do so; we will find a way to put it to some good purpose.' + +"I gave them the money, bowed and left. + +"The next day Chouquet came to me and said brusquely: + +"'That woman left her wagon here--what have you done with it?' + +"'Nothing; take it if you wish.' + +"'It's just what I wanted,' he added, and walked off. I called him back +and said: + +"'She also left her old horse and two dogs. Don't you need them?' + +"He stared at me surprised: 'Well, no! Really, what would I do with +them?' + +"'Dispose of them as you like.' + +"He laughed and held out his hand to me. I shook it. What could I do? +The doctor and the druggist in a country village must not be at enmity. +I have kept the dogs. The priest took the old horse. The wagon is +useful to Chouquet, and with the money he has bought railroad stock. +That is the only deep, sincere love that I have ever known in all my +life." + +The doctor looked up. The marquise, whose eyes were full of tears, +sighed and said: + +"There is no denying the fact, only women know how to love." + + + + + + +PIERROT + +Mme. Lefevre was a country dame, a widow, one of these half peasants, +with ribbons and bonnets with trimming on them, one of those persons who +clipped her words and put on great airs in public, concealing the soul of +a pretentious animal beneath a comical and bedizened exterior, just as +the country-folks hide their coarse red hands in ecru silk gloves. + +She had a servant, a good simple peasant, called Rose. + +The two women lived in a little house with green shutters by the side of +the high road in Normandy, in the centre of the country of Caux. As they +had a narrow strip of garden in front of the house, they grew some +vegetables. + +One night someone stole twelve onions. As soon as Rose became aware of +the theft, she ran to tell madame, who came downstairs in her woolen +petticoat. It was a shame and a disgrace! They had robbed her, Mme. +Lefevre! As there were thieves in the country, they might come back. + +And the two frightened women examined the foot tracks, talking, and +supposing all sorts of things. + +"See, they went that way! They stepped on the wall, they jumped into the +garden!" + +And they became apprehensive for the future. How could they sleep in +peace now! + +The news of the theft spread. The neighbor came, making examinations and +discussing the matter in their turn, while the two women explained to +each newcomer what they had observed and their opinion. + +A farmer who lived near said to them: + +"You ought to have a dog." + +That is true, they ought to have a dog, if it were only to give the +alarm. Not a big dog. Heavens! what would they do with a big dog? He +would eat their heads off. But a little dog (in Normandy they say +"quin"), a little puppy who would bark. + +As soon as everyone had left, Mme. Lefevre discussed this idea of a dog +for some time. On reflection she made a thousand objections, terrified +at the idea of a bowl full of soup, for she belonged to that race of +parsimonious country women who always carry centimes in their pocket to +give alms in public to beggars on the road and to put in the Sunday +collection plate. + +Rose, who loved animals, gave her opinion and defended it shrewdly. So +it was decided that they should have a dog, a very small dog. + +They began to look for one, but could find nothing but big dogs, who +would devour enough soup to make one shudder. The grocer of Rolleville +had one, a tiny one, but he demanded two francs to cover the cost of +sending it. Mme. Lefevre declared that she would feed a "quin," but +would not buy one. + +The baker, who knew all that occurred, brought in his wagon one morning a +strange little yellow animal, almost without paws, with the body of a +crocodile, the head of a fox, and a curly tail--a true cockade, as big as +all the rest of him. Mme. Lefevre thought this common cur that cost +nothing was very handsome. Rose hugged it and asked what its name was. + +"Pierrot," replied the baker. + +The dog was installed in an old soap box and they gave it some water +which it drank. They then offered it a piece of bread. He ate it. Mme. +Lefevre, uneasy, had an idea. + +"When he is thoroughly accustomed to the house we can let him run. He +can find something to eat, roaming about the country." + +They let him run, in fact, which did not prevent him from being famished. +Also he never barked except to beg for food, and then he barked +furiously. + +Anyone might come into the garden, and Pierrot would run up and fawn on +each one in turn and not utter a bark. + +Mme. Lefevre, however, had become accustomed to the animal. She even +went so far as to like it and to give it from time to time pieces of +bread soaked in the gravy on her plate. + +But she had not once thought of the dog tax, and when they came to +collect eight francs--eight francs, madame--for this puppy who never even +barked, she almost fainted from the shock. + +It was immediately decided that they must get rid of Pierrot. No one +wanted him. Every one declined to take him for ten leagues around. Then +they resolved, not knowing what else to do, to make him "piquer du mas." + +"Piquer du mas" means to eat chalk. When one wants to get rid of a dog +they make him "Piquer du mas." + +In the midst of an immense plain one sees a kind of hut, or rather a very +small roof standing above the ground. This is the entrance to the clay +pit. A big perpendicular hole is sunk for twenty metres underground and +ends in a series of long subterranean tunnels. + +Once a year they go down into the quarry at the time they fertilize the +ground. The rest of the year it serves as a cemetery for condemned dogs, +and as one passed by this hole plaintive howls, furious or despairing +barks and lamentable appeals reach one's ear. + +Sportsmen's dogs and sheep dogs flee in terror from this mournful place, +and when one leans over it one perceives a disgusting odor of +putrefaction. + +Frightful dramas are enacted in the darkness. + +When an animal has suffered down there for ten or twelve days, nourished +on the foul remains of his predecessors, another animal, larger and more +vigorous, is thrown into the hole. There they are, alone, starving, with +glittering eyes. They watch each other, follow each other, hesitate in +doubt. But hunger impels them; they attack each other, fight desperately +for some time, and the stronger eats the weaker, devours him alive. + +When it was decided to make Pierrot "piquer du mas" they looked round for +an executioner. The laborer who mended the road demanded six sous to +take the dog there. That seemed wildly exorbitant to Mme. Lefevre. The +neighbor's hired boy wanted five sous; that was still too much. So Rose +having observed that they had better carry it there themselves, as in +that way it would not be brutally treated on the way and made to suspect +its fate, they resolved to go together at twilight. + +They offered the dog that evening a good dish of soup with a piece of +butter in it. He swallowed every morsel of it, and as he wagged his tail +with delight Rose put him in her apron. + +They walked quickly, like thieves, across the plain. They soon perceived +the chalk pit and walked up to it. Mme. Lefevre leaned over to hear if +any animal was moaning. No, there were none there; Pierrot would be +alone. Then Rose, who was crying, kissed the dog and threw him into the +chalk pit, and they both leaned over, listening. + +First they heard a dull sound, then the sharp, bitter, distracting cry of +an animal in pain, then a succession of little mournful cries, then +despairing appeals, the cries of a dog who is entreating, his head raised +toward the opening of the pit. + +He yelped, oh, how he yelped! + +They were filled with remorse, with terror, with a wild inexplicable +fear, and ran away from the spot. As Rose went faster Mme. Lefevre +cried: "Wait for me, Rose, wait for me!" + +At night they were haunted by frightful nightmares. + +Mme. Lefevre dreamed she was sitting down at table to eat her soup, but +when she uncovered the tureen Pierrot was in it. He jumped out and bit +her nose. + +She awoke and thought she heard him yelping still. She listened, but she +was mistaken. + +She fell asleep again and found herself on a high road, an endless road, +which she followed. Suddenly in the middle of the road she perceived a +basket, a large farmer's basket, lying there, and this basket frightened +her. + +She ended by opening it, and Pierrot, concealed in it, seized her hand +and would not let go. She ran away in terror with the dog hanging to the +end of her arm, which he held between his teeth. + +At daybreak she arose, almost beside herself, and ran to the chalk pit. + +He was yelping, yelping still; he had yelped all night. She began to sob +and called him by all sorts of endearing names. He answered her with all +the tender inflections of his dog's voice. + + +Then she wanted to see him again, promising herself that she would give +him a good home till he died. + +She ran to the chalk digger, whose business it was to excavate for chalk, +and told him the situation. The man listened, but said nothing. When +she had finished he said: + +"You want your dog? That will cost four francs." She gave a jump. All +her grief was at an end at once. + +"Four francs!" she said. "You would die of it! Four francs!" + +"Do you suppose I am going to bring my ropes, my windlass, and set it up, +and go down there with my boy and let myself be bitten, perhaps, by your +cursed dog for the pleasure of giving it back to you? You should not +have thrown it down there." + +She walked away, indignant. Four francs! + +As soon as she entered the house she called Rose and told her of the +quarryman's charges. Rose, always resigned, repeated: + +"Four francs! That is a good deal of money, madame." Then she added: +"If we could throw him something to eat, the poor dog, so he will not die +of hunger." + +Mme. Lefevre approved of this and was quite delighted. So they set out +again with a big piece of bread and butter. + +They cut it in mouthfuls, which they threw down one after the other, +speaking by turns to Pierrot. As soon as the dog finished one piece he +yelped for the next. + +They returned that evening and the next day and every day. But they made +only one trip. + +One morning as they were just letting fall the first mouthful they +suddenly heard a tremendous barking in the pit. There were two dogs +there. Another had been thrown in, a large dog. + +"Pierrot!" cried Rose. And Pierrot yelped and yelped. Then they began +to throw down some food. But each time they noticed distinctly a +terrible struggle going on, then plaintive cries from Pierrot, who had +been bitten by his companion, who ate up everything as he was the +stronger. + +It was in vain that they specified, saying: + +"That is for you, Pierrot." Pierrot evidently got nothing. + +The two women, dumfounded, looked at each other and Mme. Lefevre said in +a sour tone: + +"I could not feed all the dogs they throw in there! We must give it up." + +And, suffocating at the thought of all the dogs living at her expense, +she went away, even carrying back what remained of the bread, which she +ate as she walked along. + +Rose followed her, wiping her eyes on the corner of her blue apron. + + + + + + +A NORMANDY JOKE + +It was a wedding procession that was coming along the road between the +tall trees that bounded the farms and cast their shadow on the road. +At the head were the bride and groom, then the family, then the invited +guests, and last of all the poor of the neighborhood. The village +urchins who hovered about the narrow road like flies ran in and out of +the ranks or climbed up the trees to see it better. + +The bridegroom was a good-looking young fellow, Jean Patu, the richest +farmer in the neighborhood, but he was above all things, an ardent +sportsman who seemed to take leave of his senses in order to satisfy that +passion, and who spent large sums on his dogs, his keepers, his ferrets +and his guns. The bride, Rosalie Roussel, had been courted by all the +likely young fellows in the district, for they all thought her handsome +and they knew that she would have a good dowry. But she had chosen Patu; +partly, perhaps, because she liked him better than she did the others, +but still more, like a careful Normandy girl, because he had more crown +pieces. + +As they entered the white gateway of the husband's farm, forty shots +resounded without their seeing those who fired, as they were hidden in +the ditches. The noise seemed to please the men, who were slouching +along heavily in their best clothes, and Patu left his wife, and running +up to a farm servant whom he perceived behind a tree, took his gun and +fired a shot himself, as frisky as a young colt. Then they went on, +beneath the apple trees which were heavy with fruit, through the high +grass and through the midst of the calves, who looked at them with their +great eyes, got up slowly and remained standing, with their muzzles +turned toward the wedding party. + +The men became serious when they came within measurable distance of the +wedding dinner. Some of them, the rich ones, had on tall, shining silk +hats, which seemed altogether out of place there; others had old head- +coverings with a long nap, which might have been taken for moleskin, +while the humblest among them wore caps. All the women had on shawls, +which they wore loosely on their back, holding the tips ceremoniously +under their arms. They were red, parti-colored, flaming shawls, and +their brightness seemed to astonish the black fowls on the dung-heap, the +ducks on the side of the pond and the pigeons on the thatched roofs. + +The extensive farm buildings seemed to be waiting there at the end of +that archway of apple trees, and a sort of vapor came out of open door +and windows and an almost overpowering odor of eatables was exhaled from +the vast building, from all its openings and from its very walls. The +string of guests extended through the yard; but when the foremost of them +reached the house, they broke the chain and dispersed, while those behind +were still coming in at the open gate. The ditches were now lined with +urchins and curious poor people, and the firing did not cease, but came +from every side at once, and a cloud of smoke, and that odor which has +the same intoxicating effect as absinthe, blended with the atmosphere. +The women were shaking their dresses outside the door, to get rid of the +dust, were undoing their cap-strings and pulling their shawls over their +arms, and then they went into the house to lay them aside altogether for +the time. The table was laid in the great kitchen that would hold a +hundred persons; they sat down to dinner at two o'clock; and at eight +o'clock they were still eating, and the men, in their shirt-sleeves, with +their waistcoats unbuttoned and with red faces, were swallowing down the +food and drink as if they had been whirlpools. The cider sparkled +merrily, clear and golden in the large glasses, by the side of the dark, +blood-colored wine, and between every dish they made a "hole," the +Normandy hole, with a glass of brandy which inflamed the body and put +foolish notions into the head. Low jokes were exchanged across the table +until the whole arsenal of peasant wit was exhausted. For the last +hundred years the same broad stories had served for similar occasions, +and, although every one knew them, they still hit the mark and made both +rows of guests roar with laughter. + +At one end of the table four young fellows, who were neighbors, were +preparing some practical jokes for the newly married couple, and they +seemed to have got hold of a good one by the way they whispered and +laughed, and suddenly one of them, profiting by a moment of silence, +exclaimed: "The poachers will have a good time to-night, with this moon! +I say, Jean, you will not be looking at the moon, will you?" The +bridegroom turned to him quickly and replied: "Only let them come, that's +all!" But the other young fellow began to laugh, and said: "I do not +think you will pay much attention to them!" + +The whole table was convulsed with laughter, so that the glasses shook, +but the bridegroom became furious at the thought that anybody would +profit by his wedding to come and poach on his land, and repeated: +"I only say-just let them come!" + +Then there was a flood of talk with a double meaning which made the bride +blush somewhat, although she was trembling with expectation; and when +they had emptied the kegs of brandy they all went to bed. The young +couple went into their own room, which was on the ground floor, as most +rooms in farmhouses are. As it was very warm, they opened the window and +closed the shutters. A small lamp in bad taste, a present from the +bride's father, was burning on the chest of drawers, and the bed stood +ready to receive the young people. + +The young woman had already taken off her wreath and her dress, and she +was in her petticoat, unlacing her boots, while Jean was finishing his +cigar and looking at her out of the corners of his eyes. Suddenly, with +a brusque movement, like a man who is about to set to work, he took off +his coat. She had already taken off her boots, and was now pulling off +her stockings, and then she said to him: "Go and hide yourself behind the +curtains while I get into bed." + +He seemed as if he were about to refuse; but at last he did as she asked +him, and in a moment she unfastened her petticoat, which slipped down, +fell at her feet and lay on the ground. She left it there, stepped over +it in her loose chemise and slipped into the bed, whose springs creaked +beneath her weight. He immediately went up to the bed, and, stooping +over his wife, he sought her lips, which she hid beneath the pillow, when +a shot was heard in the distance, in the direction of the forest of +Rapees, as he thought. + +He raised himself anxiously, with his heart beating, and running to the +window, he opened the shutters. The full moon flooded the yard with +yellow light, and the reflection of the apple trees made black shadows at +their feet, while in the distance the fields gleamed, covered with the +ripe corn. But as he was leaning out, listening to every sound in the +still night, two bare arms were put round his neck, and his wife +whispered, trying to pull him back: "Do leave them alone; it has nothing +to do with you. Come to bed." + +He turned round, put his arms round her, and drew her toward him, but +just as he was laying her on the 'bed, which yielded beneath her weight, +they heard another report, considerably nearer this time, and Jean, +giving way to his tumultuous rage, swore aloud: "Damn it! They will +think I do not go out and see what it is because of you! Wait, wait a +few minutes!" He put on his shoes again, took down his gun, which was +always hanging within reach against the wall, and, as his wife threw +herself on her knees in her terror, imploring him not to go, he hastily +freed himself, ran to the window and jumped into the yard. + +She waited one hour, two hours, until daybreak, but her husband did not +return. Then she lost her head, aroused the house, related how angry +Jean was, and said that he had gone after the poachers, and immediately +all the male farm-servants, even the boys, went in search of their +master. They found him two leagues from the farm, tied hand and foot, +half dead with rage, his gun broken, his trousers turned inside out, and +with three dead hares hanging round his neck, and a placard on his chest +with these words: "Who goes on the chase loses his place." + +In later years, when he used to tell this story of his wedding night, +he usually added: "Ah! as far as a joke went it was a good joke. They +caught me in a snare, as if I had been a rabbit, the dirty brutes, and +they shoved my head into a bag. But if I can only catch them some day +they had better look out for themselves!" + +That is how they amuse themselves in Normandy on a wedding day. + + + + + + +FATHER MATTHEW + +We had just left Rouen and were galloping along the road to Jumieges. +The light carriage flew along across the level country. Presently the +horse slackened his pace to walk up the hill of Cantelen. + +One sees there one of the most magnificent views in the world. Behind us +lay Rouen, the city of churches, with its Gothic belfries, sculptured +like ivory trinkets; before us Saint Sever, the manufacturing suburb, +whose thousands of smoking chimneys rise amid the expanse of sky, +opposite the thousand sacred steeples of the old city. + +On the one hand the spire of the cathedral, the highest of human +monuments, on the other the engine of the power-house, its rival, and +almost as high, and a metre higher than the tallest pyramid in Egypt. + +Before us wound the Seine, with its scattered islands and bordered by +white banks, covered with a forest on the right and on the left immense +meadows, bounded by another forest yonder in the distance. + +Here and there large ships lay at anchor along the banks of the wide +river. Three enormous steam boats were starting out, one behind the +other, for Havre, and a chain of boats, a bark, two schooners and a brig, +were going upstream to Rouen, drawn by a little tug that emitted a cloud +of black smoke. + +My companion, a native of the country, did not glance at this wonderful +landscape, but he smiled continually; he seemed to be amused at his +thoughts. Suddenly he cried: + +"Ah, you will soon see something comical--Father Matthew's chapel. That +is a sweet morsel, my boy." + +I looked at him in surprise. He continued: + +"I will give you a whiff of Normandy that will stay by you. Father +Matthew is the handsomest Norman in the province and his chapel is one of +the wonders of the world, nothing more nor less. But I will first give +you a few words of explanation. + +"Father Matthew, who is also called Father 'La Boisson,' is an old +sergeant-major who has come back to his native land. He combines in +admirable proportions, making a perfect whole, the humbug of the old +soldier and the sly roguery of the Norman. On his return to Normandy, +thanks to influence and incredible cleverness, he was made doorkeeper of +a votive chapel, a chapel dedicated to the Virgin and frequented chiefly +by young women who have gone astray . . . . He composed and had +painted a special prayer to his 'Good Virgin.' This prayer is a +masterpiece of unintentional irony, of Norman wit, in which jest is +blended with fear of the saint and with the superstitious fear of the +secret influence of something. He has not much faith in his protectress, +but he believes in her a little through prudence, and he is considerate +of her through policy. + +"This is how this wonderful prayer begins: + +"'Our good Madame Virgin Mary, natural protectress of girl mothers in +this land and all over the world, protect your servant who erred in a +moment of forgetfulness . . .' + +"It ends thus: + +"'Do not forget me, especially when you are with your holy spouse, and +intercede with God the Father that he may grant me a good husband, like +your own.' + +"This prayer, which was suppressed by the clergy of the district, is sold +by him privately, and is said to be very efficacious for those who recite +it with unction. + +"In fact he talks of the good Virgin as the valet de chambre of a +redoubted prince might talk of his master who confided in him all his +little private secrets. He knows a number of amusing anecdotes at his +expense which he tells confidentially among friends as they sit over +their glasses. + +"But you will see for yourself. + +"As the fees coming from the Virgin did not appear sufficient to him, he +added to the main figure a little business in saints. He has them all, +or nearly all. There was not room enough in the chapel, so he stored +them in the wood-shed and brings them forth as soon as the faithful ask +for them. He carved these little wooden statues himself--they are +comical in the extreme--and painted them all bright green one year when +they were painting his house. You know that saints cure diseases, but +each saint has his specialty, and you must not confound them or make any +blunders. They are as jealous of each other as mountebanks. + +"In order that they may make no mistake, the old women come and consult +Matthew. + +"'For diseases of the ear which saint is the best?' + +"'Why, Saint Osyme is good and Saint Pamphilius is not bad.' But that is +not all. + +"As Matthew has some time to spare, he drinks; but he drinks like a +professional, with conviction, so much so that he is intoxicated +regularly every evening. He is drunk, but he is aware of it. He is so +well aware of it that he notices each day his exact degree of +intoxication. That is his chief occupation; the chapel is a secondary +matter. + +"And he has invented--listen and catch on--he has invented the +'Saoulometre.' + +"There is no such instrument, but Matthew's observations are as precise +as those of a mathematician. You may hear him repeating incessantly: +'Since Monday I have had more than forty-five,' or else 'I was between +fifty-two and fifty-eight,' or else 'I had at least sixty-six to +seventy,' or 'Hullo, cheat, I thought I was in the fifties and here I +find I had had seventy-five!' + +"He never makes a mistake. + +"He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that +his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot +depend absolutely on the truth of that statement. + +"When Matthew acknowledges that he has passed ninety, you may rest +assured that he is blind drunk. + +"On these occasions his wife, Melie, another marvel, flies into a fury. +She waits for him at the door of the house, and as he enters she roars at +him: + +"'So there you are, slut, hog, giggling sot!' + +"Then Matthew, who is not laughing any longer, plants himself opposite +her and says in a severe tone: + +"'Be still, Melie; this is no time to talk; wait till to-morrow.' + +"If she keeps on shouting at him, he goes up to her and says in a shaky +voice: + +"'Don't bawl any more. I have had about ninety; I am not counting any +more. Look out, I am going to hit you!' + +"Then Melie beats a retreat. + +"If, on the following day, she reverts to the subject, he laughs in her +face and says: + +"'Come, come! We have said enough. It is past. As long as I have not +reached my limit there is no harm done. But if I go, past that I will +allow you to correct me, my word on it!'" + +We had reached the top of the hill. The road entered the delightful +forest of Roumare. + +Autumn, marvellous autumn, blended its gold and purple with the remaining +traces of verdure. We passed through Duclair. Then, instead of going on +to Jumieges, my friend turned to the left and, taking a crosscut, drove +in among the trees. + +And presently from the top of a high hill we saw again the magnificent +valley of the Seine and the winding river beneath us. + +At our right a very small slate-covered building, with a bell tower as +large as a sunshade, adjoined a pretty house with green Venetian blinds, +and all covered with honeysuckle and roses. + +"Here are some friends!" cried a big voice, and Matthew appeared on the +threshold. He was a man about sixty, thin and with a goatee and long, +white mustache. + +My friend shook him by the hand and introduced me, and Matthew took us +into a clean kitchen, which served also as a dining-room. He said: + +"I have no elegant apartment, monsieur. I do not like to get too far +away from the food. The saucepans, you see, keep me company." Then, +turning to my friend: + +"Why did you come on Thursday? You know quite well that this is the day +I consult my Guardian Saint. I cannot go out this afternoon." + +And running to the door, he uttered a terrific roar: "Melie!" which must +have startled the sailors in the ships along the stream in the valley +below. + +Melie did not reply. + +Then Matthew winked his eye knowingly. + +"She is not pleased with me, you see, because yesterday I was in the +nineties." + +My friend began to laugh. "In the nineties, Matthew! How did you manage +it?" + +"I will tell you," said Matthew. "Last year I found only twenty rasieres +(an old dry measure) of apricots. There are no more, but those are the +only things to make cider of. So I made some, and yesterday I tapped the +barrel. Talk of nectar! That was nectar. You shall tell me what you +think of it. Polyte was here, and we sat down and drank a glass and +another without being satisfied (one could go on drinking it until to- +morrow), and at last, with glass after glass, I felt a chill at my +stomach. I said to Polyte: 'Supposing we drink a glass of cognac to warm +ourselves?' He agreed. But this cognac, it sets you on fire, so that we +had to go back to the cider. But by going from chills to heat and heat +to chills, I saw that I was in the nineties. Polyte was not far from his +limit." + +The door opened and Melie appeared. At once, before bidding us good-day, +she cried: + +"Great hog, you have both of you reached your limit!" + +"Don't say that, Melie; don't say that," said Matthew, getting angry. +"I have never reached my limit." + +They gave us a delicious luncheon outside beneath two lime trees, beside +the little chapel and overlooking the vast landscape. And Matthew told +us, with a mixture of humor and unexpected credulity, incredible stories +of miracles. + +We had drunk a good deal of delicious cider, sparkling and sweet, fresh +and intoxicating, which he preferred to all other drinks, and were +smoking our pipes astride our chairs when two women appeared. + +They were old, dried up and bent. After greeting us they asked for Saint +Blanc. Matthew winked at us as he replied: + +"I will get him for you." And he disappeared in his wood shed. He +remained there fully five minutes. Then he came back with an expression +of consternation. He raised his hands. + +"I don't know where he is. I cannot find him. I am quite sure that I +had him." Then making a speaking trumpet of his hands, he roared once +more: + +"Meli-e-a!" + +"What's the matter?" replied his wife from the end of the garden. + +"Where's Saint Blanc? I cannot find him in the wood shed." + +Then Melie explained it this way: + +"Was not that the one you took last week to stop up a hole in the rabbit +hutch?" + +Matthew gave a start. + +"By thunder, that may be!" Then turning to the women, he said: + +"Follow me." + +They followed him. We did the same, almost choking with suppressed +laughter. + +Saint Blanc was indeed stuck into the earth like an ordinary stake, +covered with mud and dirt, and forming a corner for the rabbit hutch. + +As soon as they perceived him, the two women fell on their knees, crossed +themselves and began to murmur an "Oremus." But Matthew darted toward +them. + +"Wait," he said, "you are in the mud; I will get you a bundle of straw." + +He went to fetch the straw and made them a priedieu. Then, looking at +his muddy saint and doubtless afraid of bringing discredit on his +business, he added: + +"I will clean him off a little for you." + +He took a pail of water and a brush and began to scrub the wooden image +vigorously, while the two old women kept on praying. + +When he had finished he said: + +"Now he is all right." And he took us back to the house to drink another +glass. + +As he was carrying the glass to his lips he stopped and said in a rather +confused manner: + +"All the same, when I put Saint Blanc out with the rabbits I thought he +would not make any more money. For two years no one had asked for him. +But the saints, you see, they are never out of date." + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Original Short Stories, Vol. 10. +by Guy de Maupassant + diff --git a/old/gm10v11.zip b/old/gm10v11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a014ce --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gm10v11.zip |