diff options
Diffstat (limited to '3086-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3086-h/3086-h.htm | 5207 |
1 files changed, 5207 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3086-h/3086-h.htm b/3086-h/3086-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e86ab19 --- /dev/null +++ b/3086-h/3086-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5207 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Original Short Stories, Volume 10 (of 13), by Guy de Maupassant + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +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 + + + + + +</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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + </body> +</html> |